“Just trying to start the week off right,” I said, pretending to be engrossed in something on my phone screen.
My mother’s hands came into view, covering my own, and I looked up to see a face I knew well on her. It was the face of every mother, when they were calling bull on all that teen surliness. I was powerless under that look, and she knew it.
“Everything will turn out in the end,” she said. “Nikolas and his family are going through a lot and I know that it’s hard for you to have to watch your friend’s tears get broadcast all over the news. But it’s a part of the way things go sometimes, even if we wish it wasn’t. Just try to focus on school.”
“Trust me Mom, I’m banking on that.”
She smiled, nodded, kissed my forehead, and sent me off for the day with an extra cup of coffee to drink on the walk to school.
I was keeping myself together. Autumn was creeping into the air with a morning chill and the slightest hint of the leaves changing from green to red. I tried to soak it in and not think about anything as I crossed the streets to get to school. There was the distant sound of DC traffic and kids were playing as they ran down the streets, exasperated parents in tow, to catch their school bus. Everything was going pretty much okay.
Until I actually got to school.
I was usually invisible, and I liked it that way, but today I was like a neon sign. Eyes from everywhere were on me. People I’d never seen before in my life were looking at me from their lockers and the edges of the hallway as I walked past. I felt my face heat up the way it did whenever I had to give a presentation in a class.
“Hey, Isabel, right?” said some girl who I vaguely recognized from the gym locker room, third period. “Sorry to hear about everything. The prince and stuff. Hope you’re doing okay.”
I wondered if my eyes looked like saucers – they felt that big. I mumbled “thank you” and pressed on. Why had she given me such a weird…condolence? Yeah, the things with Nik’s family were news but I certainly wasn’t.
I kept my head down as I walked toward homeroom, hoping for some kind of reprieve from all this attention once I was safely tucked into my seat and my own little corner of the universe, where I could hide for a few minutes until the bell rang. Of course, I had no such luck. Because there was Jennifer, waiting for me with a bright face.
“Hey Isabel!” she said, like we were old friends. It left a bad taste in my mouth as I remembered Jess.
She said it loud because she wanted people to hear. She wanted people to know we were friends. She wanted to be included in my little sphere of attention. It occurred to me, in that moment, that she might actually be the reason for it.
“Uh, yeah—did you—did you mention seeing me out with Nik to anyone?” I asked, as casually as I could. I was never a fan of confrontation.
“Yeah, a few people. After that news story about his dad I told some people. I hope you’re doing okay. Do you need anything? We could do brunch or something this weekend?”
I gave a polite shrug and a noncommittal answer with a thank you, but inside, my blood was simmering. I wouldn’t confront her here. It might be easy to let my words fly with Jess but I was taught, at least, to be cordial and polite in situations like this. I imagined it like my dad’s meetings. Politics was all about politeness and sleight of hand with a smile. So I gave Jennifer that much and was saved by the sound of the attendance bell ringing.
The rest of the day was spent the same way: stares, eyes, questions, all of it. Of course school wouldn’t be the sanctuary I wanted, just when I needed it most. It had turned into a reality TV show. There was no escaping this entire situation and by the time the clock rolled around to 3 p.m. and I was free to leave, I felt like utter crap.
Trying to cope with any of this was useless. I looked forward to another Netflix binge on my bed all afternoon when I got home.
* * *
“Breaking News out of the micro country of Heledia in the crystal seas of the Mediterranean: King Alexandru II has officially been pronounced dead, the correspondents at the Rose Palace confirm. The king was injured in a collision during a sailboat race a week ago. It was the country’s annual Yacht Festival commemorating the ancient tradition of races in the harbor. He remained in critical condition for much of the week with injuries including…”
I turned the TV off and dropped down into the couch.
“I got the call early this morning,” my father said, sitting down next to me. “I didn’t know how to tell you, but I came home early to talk about it. I’m sorry this is the way you ended up finding out.”
He squeezed my shoulder and I sighed. I felt terrible. I couldn’t imagine what Nik and his sister were going through, what their mother was going through. To lose your father and have cameras shoved into every corner of it. And Nik would become king. Or was he already king? I didn’t know how that worked, but this was nowhere near the fairy tales and romantic comedies I’d imagined only weeks ago.
This was real life.
“What do we do?” I asked. “Do we call or write or something?”
“I’ll send an official condolence letter. The president will send one too. For now that’s the best we can do. They want privacy, like any family.”
I nodded. My real question, of course, was what should I do? The last I’d seen of Nik was like something out of a Nicholas Sparks novel. And now the world was darker and completely turned on its head, and I didn’t know what to do about that.
“You okay going to school?” he asked.
“Yeah, of course. It’s not, like an excuse to skip,” I said.
He nodded, and said to tell my mom to order in whatever I wanted for dinner that night. Usually that was a good thing, because it meant I had free reign to get the pizza I loved and she hated but I wasn’t even sure I’d be hungry tonight.
* * *
What I really wanted to do was call Jess or ask her to take a walk with me or invite her over for a tub of ice cream and any new comedy we could get between our combined Netflix and Hulu accounts. But she hadn’t said anything to me since our fight at the bagel shop and I didn’t blame her. It wasn’t so much that I hadn’t messaged her. It was that I hadn’t apologized. And what’s worse was that I made her feel so small, to make myself feel more justified in being selfish.
Nik’s face, stern and almost unrecognizable to me, was all over the Internet. My Facebook feed was filled with pictures of him, his name became a trending topic on Twitter, and suddenly TMZ had things to say about him. Few people had known who he was weeks ago, some handsome rich boy with a title and a beautifully sculpted face, who occasionally showed up at Wimbledon and film festivals and important political events. Now he was some kind of tragic prince, forced to wear a crown too soon.
Not knowing what to do, or who to reach out to, I ended up sitting on the couch in the living room for quite some time that afternoon, feeling sick and alone, unable to really do anything.
“I see you had a productive afternoon,” my mom said, walking in and dropping her keys on the kitchen table. “Not that I blame you.”
All I could do was groan in response and let out a small, but poignant, punch into one of the pillows on the sofa. I heard my mother shuffle around in the kitchen and watched her step into my field of vision as she came around the front and kneeled down in front of me.
“It’s hard for everyone,” she said. “Dad said you still wanted to go to school tomorrow, which is fine, but if you feel the least bit like you want to come home—“
“If I don’t go to school it’s all going to become a bigger deal than it already is,” I said, thinking of what all those people would think or do if they saw me taking a sick day because the king was dead and Nik was going to become king.
“I’ll support whatever decision you make. Have you tried contacting Nikolas at all?”
“I have no idea what I’d say.”
I groaned again and this time flopped down into the couch, belly first, face in that same poor, abused pi
llow. My mom sighed.
“I suppose that’s fair,” she said. “But in times like this people appreciate any way you can offer your condolences. Even if you just send him a couple of words saying hi. I imagine he feels very alone right now.”
“Yeah, he’s not the only one.”
“What do you mean?”
I sat up and looked at my mom. She did that thing where she gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and suddenly, for a second, it felt like everything was going to be okay, like everything already was okay. The universe wouldn’t let me hold onto that feeling, but I did my best in those few seconds before opening my eyes again and seeing all the real, dingy, dull colors of the world.
“Jess isn’t talking to me,” I mumbled.
For this, I was immediately embarrassed. Jess’s silence was entirely my fault, I couldn’t even curse the universe or the gods or karma. I’d been the most royal of bitches. I wasn’t afraid to admit that to myself or even to Jess, but seeing the disappointment in my mom’s eyes was going to sting.
“What happened?” she asked calmly.
“She was mad because I didn’t let her know Nik was here, and I…I was mean to her,” I said. “I mean I’m still mad at her too, because why shouldn’t I have a couple of days to myself? But she has more right to be mad at me. I said some pretty awful things.”
“This goes without saying but I have to ask anyway: did you apologize?” she said.
I felt like the biggest idiot in the world as I dropped my eyes and shook my head back and forth.
“And why not?” she asked.
“Because I was too scared to try. I was kind of hoping she’d text me first or something,” I mumbled.
“You kids and your freaking texting,” my mom said and I tried not to laugh. “Someone’s got to make the first move. Why shouldn’t it be you? Think of a couple words to start and the rest will come.” With that, she stood up and went back into the kitchen. “I mean that for more than just Jess, by the way.”
She couldn’t see me, but I nodded. I thought about it all. Maybe I should stop trying to see Jess and Nik as two separate entities in my life. My best friend and my…well, my other best friend, at least. Even if he were to become something more to me, that didn’t mean I had to compartmentalize everything in my life. Nik liked Jess and she seemed to like him. There would be time to be alone with him, but for now, they were both important parts of my life and nothing more.
So I wrote.
I started with crafting my text to Jess. I sent her a novel of an apology and had to retype it eight times to stop myself from continually inserting places where I defended myself. This was about Jess’s feelings. I’d get my turn in time.
The letter to Nik was much harder. I’d never written a letter or tried to talk to someone who’d just lost a parent. It was all brand new territory. But Nik, himself, was not, I realized. I was fearful of the medium and the contents but not of the man I was talking to. So I just pictured his face. Honoring our longstanding agreement not to use electronics to communicate, I pulled out some notebook paper and began to write.
Dear Nik,
I know hearing the eight millionth ‘I’m so sorry’ isn’t going to do you much good and I know you already know I am sorry. This is awful. I’m so sad for you, and for everyone. He is such a loss.
I keep thinking about the funny things he used to do, like the time that arrogant statesman came from – where was it? – and your father pretended to be the butler? But your father was actually a terrible butler. And the man was so rude because he thought he was talking to an incompetent servant? And the ruder he was, the funnier your father found the whole situation. I wonder if that man learned anything at all, that day.
Anyway, please give my love and sympathy to your mom and Sonia. I hope you’re doing okay. It’s impossible for me to imagine everything that you must be going through and everything that’s going to be changing for you. I just want you to know that I’m not changing. Prince or king I’m still your friend and always here if you need someone to talk to.
Take a deep breath and I hope you get some time to rest.
Your friend,
Isabel
I was satisfied with it and shoved it in an envelope and sealed it before I could even think about changing it.
* * *
The situation with Jess was, obviously, the one to resolve itself first.
After I spent a few more days avoiding eye contact around school, coming home and silently doing homework until dinner, and going to bed with hopes that I’d get to dream of something pleasant like Hawaii or Disney World, Jess finally decided to end her radio silence. It wasn’t with a text or phone call, though. It was Friday after school, and I was just grateful to have made it to the weekend.
My apology to Jess hadn’t been the most eloquent thing in the world. It was a long text, spotted with emojis, and full of “I’m sorry”s. But in the realm of us, it meant a lot.
“Hey.”
I jumped, startled. I turned and saw Jess standing there with her own backpack. She looked nervous and shy, but I knew her well enough to spot the accusatory glint in her eyes – I was far from off the hook. But she was softening, just a little. This was her backing down, her shields lowering. I’d seen it many times throughout the years, I just never expected to be on the receiving end of it all.
“Hey,” I said. I gave a tiny wave and felt like an idiot a second later but she smiled, just a little, and laughed.
“Well it’s good to see you’re still an embarrassing dork,” she said.
“It’s been like, a week,” I said.
“Feels like five years though. Sorry about that,” she said, cringing a little.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, and I am,” I said. “I was out of line and however I felt about it, that doesn’t mean I can just completely ignore how you feel.”
“Well the same goes for me too. I was hurt and didn’t think about why you did it or what you were feeling,” she said.
I nodded and she nodded and we stood there staring at each other over the five feet of sidewalk between us. A woman walked past us with her dog, huffing as she had to move around two teenage girls taking up the entire walkway.
“So…” she said.
“Your move,” I shrugged.
“Why?”
“Because I was the ass. You get to decide what we do about it,” I said. She rolled her eyes and stepped forward, taking my elbow into the crook of her own. We started walking, like nothing had changed.
“And I have decided we’re finding the nearest Starbucks and guzzling some vanilla bean fraps,” she said. “I’ll let you pay. That’s your penance.”
I laughed and nodded and we walked on. Within minutes it was like nothing had happened. We were complaining about school and the SATs and sending in transcripts to colleges. Jess had her sights set on a forensic chemistry degree from Georgetown. It was swanky and expensive and hell to get into but she was the smartest person I knew. One day she’d make an excellent FBI candidate at Quantico.
My college inclinations were a little fuzzier. I was applying everywhere with “undeclared” checked off in all the boxes where it asked the area of study. My grades just above average. I was no whiz like Jess, but my father also promised he could get letters of recommendation from any senator or diplomat I needed. It kind of hurt to think about getting into school because of the people my dad knew, but it was better than ending up in a box on the street because I was too proud to use my resources.
“So,” Jess said carefully, as we sat down in the corner with our two huge drinks, topped with extra whipped cream. “How are things with…uh, well….”
“You can talk about it,” I said. “It’s not like the ceiling is going to fall on our heads.”
“I know, it’s just crazy and awful,” she said. “It’s insane to think about. Poor King Alexandru! Have you talked to Nik at all?”
I shook my head.
“I sent him
a letter the same day I sent you that text, but I haven’t done anything else,” I said. “My dad talked to his mom a little bit and my mom was the one who kind of talked me into reaching out to him.”
“You weren’t going to?”
“Well it’s really tough and awkward. Like we kind of left things like…”
“Like what?”
“Well he was like…there was…minor lip action. And it’s okay that happened, but then something serious and adult and life-altering happened. So how do I just go about casually sending well wishes and stuff? And on top of that he’s going to be king of a freaking country. It’s all such a massive headache that I want to drown in pizza and cookies,” I said, taking a pause to sip my coffee.
Jess was nodding, swirling her straw through her drink. When she looked up she was smirking though, just a bit.
“So, you kissed the prince?” she teased.
“Okay, can we focus on the bigger picture here,” I said exasperated but unable to completely hide my smile.
“I know, I know. But one day life will go on and you’re going to want to circle back to that,” she said.
I sighed and nodded and turned the conversation at that point. We talked about anything and everything, because a week without your best friend is like ten years. It was like coming up for air, and the only thing that pulled us out of it was my mom texting me in a panic for not coming home after school, or calling. So naturally she was thinking I was kidnapped. We laughed as we headed out.
* * *
I didn’t hear from Nik, which was fine because I didn’t really expect to. I assumed he’d get the letter, maybe keep it around as some sort of talisman of support. And then when the time was right and he finally felt up to it, he’d get back to me with a letter or maybe even a phone call.
Instead, what I got was another picture of him in the news. In this one, however, he was not alone.
He was in Paris. The tabloids had reported that he’d gone back to school, since the coronation wasn’t for another month. Jess had asked me about it and whether it was a “spectator sport” or not. I told her we’d receive an invite but I’d wait to see what my parents thought about it all before I committed to going. And in the meantime, he was back in Paris to squeeze some more education into his last few days of freedom before he was to be a king for the rest of his life.
Letters from a Prince: The Royals of Heledia (Book 1) Page 6
