Royal Engagement

by Chance Carter

  I chuckled. Now that I was looking elsewhere in the room, I noticed a few girls behind Jake were staring my way. I caught one of them looking, and she blushed and turned to the girl beside her, giggling.

  I could’ve indulged in a little preening, but I didn’t give a flying fuck if some giggling halfwit entertained fantasies of me asking her to prom. I set my sights back on Dallas, curious what her reaction to all this was. She was talking to the girl beside her now, a nasty piece of work named Sasha Barnett. I had no idea why a little angel like Dallas would want to hang around someone who flaunted her crummy personality like a pair of diamond earrings. The two of them whispered to each other, and at the front of the room, Mrs. Fairfax tried to regain order.

  “Guys, guys! Prom is still over a month away. You’ve got lots of time to gossip and chit chat about it. But you’ve only got so much time to absorb all this math before exams.” She placed her hands on her hips and stared menacingly at the class while the prom committee girls slunk out the door to disrupt the next classroom.

  The class quieted, and soon we were back to integers and square roots. And I was back to Dallas.

  The prom announcement was just another reminder that my days with Dallas were numbered. I didn’t know what she had planned after high school, but I could only assume a bright girl like her would be off to college, or at least some place known for more than an overabundance of trees and rain. She was better than all this. Me, on the other hand? I wasn’t so sure. I needed to find an opportunity to ask her out, and I needed to find it soon.

  Then I realized the answer to my conundrum was staring me right in the face.

  I would ask Dallas to prom.

  Sure, we hadn’t talked much since we got up to high school, but she was friendly to me, and I honestly believed the only reason we hadn’t spent more time together was simply that we ran in different circles. She was popular and I was... Well, I wasn’t really anything. I had football, and I had Jacob, and that was all I needed. That and the chance to call Dallas mine.

  That was it, then. It was decided. I was going to ask Dallas Keane out to prom. If she said no, so what? At least I could start distancing myself from this obsession with the cherub-like girl I’d always figured I didn’t have a chance with anyway. We’d go our separate ways, and I would have no regrets.

  The class drew to a close, and everyone packed up their things and started ambling toward the door. Dallas and Sasha were taking their time, chatting excitedly. Jake slung his bag over his shoulder and followed the direction of my stare.

  “Come on, man. We’ve got shop. You can’t sit around here and pine after Little Miss Perfect all day.”

  I glared over at him. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

  The lanky ginger put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, whatever. Are you coming or what?”

  “I’m going to hang around,” I said. “I need to talk to her.”

  Jake’s eyebrows furrowed in consternation. “About what? You never talk to her.” A light bulb flicked on in his head, and his mouth fell open. “You’re not seriously going—“

  I shoved him toward the door. “Dude, get out of here.”

  “Fine, fine.” Jake waved me off. “Good luck.”

  The next group of students began to filter in just as Dallas was gathering her binder into her arms and heading toward the door. I fell into step beside her.

  “Hey Dallas,” I said.

  I wished I had a better opener than that, but I always got a little flustered where she was concerned.

  “Shane, hey,” she said with a smile.

  Sasha glared daggers at me. What the fuck was that girl’s problem? I tried to pretend she wasn’t there, even though I half expected her to grab Dallas’s arm and run off at any second.

  We stepped out into the bustling hallway, and I turned to face Dallas. Now or never.

  “Do you have a second to talk?” I asked.

  “We’ve got to get to class,” Sasha complained.

  Dallas didn’t miss a beat. “But I can hang out and chat for a moment.” She looked over at Sasha, and something passed between them. “Why don’t I just meet you in History?”

  Sasha rolled her eyes but started to turn away. All I had to do now was ask Dallas one simple question. I wouldn’t ramble, I wouldn’t stutter, I would just get right to the point.

  Before Sasha could leave or I could speak, a booming voice called out, “Hey pretty ladies!”

  My skin crawled.

  Wes Gromley sidled up between Dallas and Sasha, flinging an arm over each of their shoulders. The act was overtly territorial. Sasha leaned into him, a coy smile flitting over her lips. Dallas didn’t react, but her smile fell away.

  “Hey Shane,” said Wes. “What are you doing here? Do you need help reading something?”

  I swallowed, trying to ignore the red creeping over my vision. Wes and I played on the football team together, which should have made us friends. We weren’t. His popularity and overblown ego would have made him a perfect star quarterback. The only problem was he didn’t possess an adequate amount of talent to go with it. But I did. I might fall behind in the popularity contest, but on the field, Wes played second fiddle and hated it.

  “That’s not nice, Wes,” Dallas piped up. I watched her try to shimmy out from under his arm, but he latched his fingers around her shoulder to keep her there.

  “Aw, come on, it’s just locker room banter,” he said snidely. “Shane knows I’m just joshing around, don’t you Shane?”

  I relaxed my jaw and forced a light smile. “Of course.”

  Wes then pretended I wasn’t in the hall with them, looking down at each of the girls in turn as he spoke. “We’re going to catch a movie tonight. I can count you ladies in, right?’

  Sasha nodded her head enthusiastically. Dallas offered up a weak smile.

  Wes looked back at me. “Hey, we’d invite you man, but we know that you can’t afford it. No sweat. See you later.”

  Wes turned then and started off down the hall, both of the girls still tucked securely against his sides. I couldn’t believe the nerve of him.

  Jake must’ve stayed around to watch just out of sight because he was at my side a second later. He patted my shoulder.

  “That sucks, bro.”

  I rolled my eyes and straightened my back. “Whatever. Let’s just get to our next class.”

  We took long strides in the direction of the shop. Jake easily kept pace beside me, beanpole that he was, even though we were zooming down the hall.

  “Did he actually call you both poor and illiterate in the span of a minute or did I hear that wrong?” Jake asked as we entered the haven of the shop. The scent of burnt ozone surrounded me, and I dropped my bag onto our stainless steel workstation.

  “Yeah, well. Wes is a dick.”

  Jake whistled between his teeth. “That’s rough. In front of the girl you like and everything.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Jake.”

  I tried not to sound too harsh, but I didn’t need a reminder of the humiliation I’d just suffered at Wes’s hands. I couldn’t help that I grew up in a trailer park outside of town, just the same way I couldn’t help that my brain couldn’t process letters and sentences the same way as everyone else’s. I was overcoming these problems more and more each day, and just from looking at me it was impossible to tell that I was poor and a little dyslexic. Good thing there were assholes like Wes to point it out.

  I threw myself into the project I was working on, a stupid lamp that was going to get me a good grade and then be immediately forgotten. I tried to focus my thoughts away from Dallas, away from Wes and his irritatingly smug face.

  Away from the fact that if today proved anything, it was that I was right all along. I would never be good enough for her.

  Chapter 2

  Dallas

  The rain let up just after two. I wouldn’t have minded if it kept showering on the walk home, but Sasha always complaine
d the whole way if so much as a drop of rain landed on her pin-straight hair.

  Living in the Pacific Northwest, I got to hear her complain a lot. Today, however, the air felt dry, and the clouds were a light, fluffy grey that didn’t herald another shower. The pavement was still damp in spots but beginning to dry, and the sun looked like it might still make an appearance.

  Sasha and Patrice and I headed out the school’s double doors. I tucked my sweater tighter around me and thought about how someday very soon I would never walk out those doors again. High school was coming to a close, and thank god. I couldn’t wait to get a job. Not that working at the coffee shop or grocery store held much appeal for me. Whatever job I got would only be a stopover, a necessary step between me and my real dreams. Broadway was calling, and I intended to answer.

  Sasha and Patrice were debating the subject of prom, which Patrice was gung-ho for while Sasha was less excited.

  “It’s just a pageant for all the preppy bitches,” Sasha moaned. “There’s a goddamn crown and everything. I’d rather be getting shit faced behind the bleachers with the AV Club.”

  I snorted. “You won’t even give the AV club the time of day.”

  “I might if they had enough whiskey to make me forget how lame they are,” she pitched back. “My point is that prom is just a juvenile waste of our time.”

  “You’re just saying that because Wes isn’t going,” Patrice commented.

  Sasha glared daggers at the shorter brunette. “It has nothing to do with Wes. I couldn’t give a shit what Wes is up to.”

  Patrice and I exchanged a look. Yeah, sure Sasha didn’t care. Like she didn’t follow him around like a lost puppy waiting for a scrap of attention. I didn’t fault Sasha for it since Wes was objectively handsome and popular to boot. It made me nervous though, especially since she wouldn’t admit her obsession and I sensed it was because I received more attention from the object of her affection. Sasha and I had been friends since junior high but she’d changed over the past couple of years. She turned bitter, even bitchy at times, and had a catty streak that made it downright unpleasant to be around her sometimes. Part of me worried that she’d continue pretending not to give a shit about Wes, but one day she’d trip me down a flight of stairs or something. I felt horrible for even thinking it.

  We turned onto the main residential street of Sitka Valley. It was a small town, though our shops and restaurants tended to thrive thanks to the influx of tourists in the summer season stopping through on their way down the coast. Wes’s father owned several businesses on this block, and he occupied a high seat in the Sitka Valley hierarchy. Personally the guy always gave me the creeps, just like his son.

  “Speaking of stupidity, I totally saw that Shane Kelly kid checking you out during the prom announcement,” Sasha slipped in.

  My heart thumped, and I tried to keep my features as neutral as possible. “Really?”

  Sasha’s eyes were searching mine for a reaction. “Yeah. You guys a thing or something? You been sneaking around in the slums?”

  Patrice sighed. “That’s not nice, Sasha.”

  “What? I’m just curious. He looked like he wanted to eat her.”

  Heat crept up my cheeks. “He’s a nice guy, but no, I haven’t been sneaking around. He would have to ask me out for anything like that to happen.”

  Sasha exploded with laughter. “Ask you out? And you would say yes?”

  “I would,” said Patrice. Her eyes took on a far off expression. “Shane is dreamy. I mean, have you seen his arms?”

  “Yeah, like the rest of him they look like they’re twenty years old. The school probably held him back a few years. He’s dumb as a brick wall.”

  “What is your problem?” I rounded on Sasha, officially over her snooty remarks. “He’s a good guy. And no, he wasn’t held back. We were in elementary school together.”

  “No word on whether he’s dreamy?” Sasha mocked.

  Patrice glared but didn’t stand up for herself. She never did. Sasha told her to jump, she asked how high. Sasha told her to stick some mascara in her purse and walk out of the store, Patrice became the world’s slyest thief.

  “He’s too bad for you anyway,” Sasha said when I didn’t reply. “He’d eat you up, Miss Virgin USA.”

  She laughed and Patrice, desperate to get back into favor, laughed too. I didn’t think it was funny. The problem with Sasha’s jokes about my purity was that I couldn’t fight her on them. I had never even kissed a boy, while she’d made it her mission to discover all sex had to offer as soon as possible. I didn’t think any less of her for the route she chose, so how was it fair for her to judge me for mine?

  “He is pretty hot though,” Sasha continued. “I’ll give you that.”

  I wasn’t sure whether she was talking to Patrice or me, so continued walking in silence.

  “Poor as dirt, but hot as hell. Maybe one of these days I’ll have a ride.”

  Two blocks away from the intersection, Sasha paused to adjust her skirt and pull more of her ample cleavage into view. Patrice and I hung alongside her as we always did, waiting for her to finish raking her fingers through her long brown hair and begin walking again.

  “Come on,” she said after a moment. “Why are we just standing here?”

  She started forward but wasn’t walking anymore—she was strutting. She strutted right past the blacked out front windows of the nightclub on the corner, Satan’s Perch, swaying her hips in an exaggerated fashion. I didn’t know why she did it. I doubted anybody was in the sleeping nightclub, and if they were they probably weren’t the kind of people we wanted to attract anyway.

  Satan’s Perch was owned by none other than Preston Gromley, Wes’s dad, and I’d heard stories of all sorts of unsavory goings on in there. Granted, lots of those stories were probably sensationalized or fabricated entirely, due to the over-imaginative and over-inquisitive minds of Sitka Valley’s teenagers, but it still made my skin crawl just thinking about going inside. I didn’t intend to still be here by the time I was twenty-one anyway, so thankfully I’d never have to worry about it.

  After we passed Satan’s Perch and nothing happened—as it never did—we came upon a squat building with “Keane Bikes” emblazoned above the door. The store windows were lit up, displaying the sleek new Kawasaki Ninja, which promised to deliver the best time a person could have on two wheels. Normally I’d walk right past and head home with the girls, but today I felt like getting a little space.

  “I’m going to stop in and see my dad,” I announced. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  “Whatever,” said Sasha.

  “See ya!” said Patrice.

  I disengaged from the group and headed toward the front door, but I pulled off onto the little path around the side of the building. I never came in through the front door, especially not when Dad’s top (and only) salesman Rick was working. I didn’t like small talk and Rick didn’t know what other kinds of talk to make.

  The rear door of the shop opened into a back hallway, which separated the sales floor and the auto body shop. Both sides of the building were small. We had a modest but dedicated client base, and dad didn’t care to expand the store. At least he didn’t care anymore. He used to have dreams of opening a sister location the next town over, where more bikers were known to frequent, but those dreams died around the same time as my mom.

  My dad’s office was just at the end of the hall, and I braced myself, not knowing what kind of state I’d find him in. The last time I visited him at work, I found him staring at the blank wall in front of his desk. It took him a whole minute before he even realized I was there.

  I passed the auto body shop doors on my way to my dad’s office. Dad did most of the repairs, though occasionally Shane came in to work on his bike or do some odd jobs for Dad. We never talked, but I’d seen him around a few times and always wondered if I should say something. Curiosity got the better of me today, after our almost chat earlier, and I poked my head around the corner
of the window to take a peek.

  Holy mother of pearl.

  Shane was there alright. He was there and then some. I couldn’t tell how long he’d been here, but it must’ve been awhile, based on the sweat trickling down his sculpted back. He probably skipped his last class. Maybe he was a bit of a bad boy, which didn’t strike me as a negative at that moment.

  It was a sight. The arms that Patrice had pointed out earlier were in full view as he fiddled with something on the back wheel of the upside down bike on the shop floor. His biceps bulged enticingly, and he turned just enough for me to see his face harrowed in concentration. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, though a few strands of it fell over his brow. In profile, he looked like a Greek god. Long, aquiline nose, prominent chin, high cheekbones. His neck was taut, leading down to those broad, sculpted shoulders that I’d admired more than once when nobody else was looking. How could this be the same high school boy who’d tried to talk to me after class today? He didn’t look like a boy. He looked like a man, hard and strong. If I had a quarter on me, I could’ve bounced it off his abs, which bunched up like frolicking kittens under his skin.

  Shane’s chin turned toward me, and I snapped back away from the window, heart hammering like I’d just run a marathon or two. Did he know I was there? I stilled and listened, but all I could hear was the muffled classic rock coming from the shop and my drumming heartbeat. My mouth was dry. My body was shaking. I needed to get out of there.

  Deciding that seeing my dad could wait, I hustled back to the outside door and into the cool afternoon air. The sun was peeking through the clouds now, and I wished it was dark out instead. I felt like anybody who saw me would know exactly what was going through my mind.

  I raced back to my house, all but sprinting until I made it into my room and slammed the door. I was completely alone.

  I shimmied out of my jeans and pounced onto the bed, sliding under the covers in the same instant as I slid my hand under the waistband of my panties. God, I was wet. It felt so wrong to touch myself to the thought of Shane, but I couldn’t help it. He looked so rugged, so tough. I could just imagine him catching me at the window, calling me into the shop just to slam me against the wall and have his wicked way with me. Sure, I was a virgin, but I’d happily give it up just to have a taste of what that hot Irish bad boy was packing.