Letters from a Prince: The Royals of Heledia (Book 1)

by Hart, Victoria

  “So, what are we doing about this?” Jess asked.

  “I say just blow the whole thing off and spring for some Tinder dates,” Jennifer said.

  “Weren’t you the one who was over the moon about her dating a prince?”

  “He’s not a prince anymore and he’s also turned into kind of an asshole—“

  “Hi, I’m right here.”

  Jess rolled her eyes and Jennifer turned to look at me.

  “Maybe don’t jump back into things because he gives you doe eyes,” Jennifer said.

  “I’m not totally over what he did,” I said. “But I’m over letting it just sort of consume me. “

  “That’s the spirit.”

  After that I diverted their attention by forcing them out for a walk to get whatever pumpkin spice concoctions we could find at Starbucks and complain about the homecoming dance or our college applications.

  I let the fall air distract me, and the sounds and smells of a bustling coffee house fill up all the spots in my head that wanted to think about Nik’s letter.

  It took about 24 hours for me to break and pen a message back to Nik. It wasn’t long and it was pretty objective. I told him about school, about the change in weather which he always seemed to envy, about college applications starting to come back. I hoped by the next time I wrote him I’d have a school to brag about, but we’d see. No rejections yet, at least.

  Talking to him like this was easy. It was passive and the stories about my day-to-day life flowed pretty easily.

  Nik,

  One day you’re going to have to actually see the changes in all the leaves because even the most hi-def Google images don’t really do it justice. Granted, it’s not as pretty here as it is in like Vermont or something, but still. And we do get the cherry blossoms every year down here in the spring. The first kid in our class got an acceptance letter back. It was only for some dinky B school he put as his safety but of course he’s all hyped about it because it means he won’t be college homeless, at least. Still waiting on mine, maybe by my next letter I’ll have some news about that to share.

  Sorry if this wasn’t as exciting as you hoped, but fall in DC is pretty chill (ha, puns). Talk to you later.

  --Isabel

  While at school, I kind of clung to my newfound friendship with Peter too. I loved hanging out with Jennifer, but it could get kind of depressing when you only had one friend and she wasn’t in any classes with you. So I kind of craved the hours when Peter and I were shoved together in organic chemistry with Mr. Orvall.

  “This is hurricane season in Florida,” he said one day from behind his lab goggles. He carefully pinched the turkey baster to let out only a small drip of the solution and we watched it change colors as soon as it hit the surface of the stuff in the beaker. I really hadn’t been paying attention to what any of it was or why it was doing that but it sure did look cool. “It’s kind of nice to have a fall where I’m not closing up all the hatches and learning how to be a shut-in.”

  “Are hurricanes scary?”

  “Not really. Well, yeah I mean I guess they could be, and probably are for people who don’t have a house built for them. Mostly they’re just boring and an excuse to have a prolonged family movie night.”

  Jennifer was warming up to Peter too. She had plenty of questions about Florida, since she was trying to plot some trip down there for spring break as if we were already in our freshman year of college.

  And all the while Nik’s letters continued to come and our interactions were actually pretty good. It was almost as if we were just friends.

  Isabel,

  Chill out, seriously, your acceptance letters are coming soon, I’m sure. Then you can just breeze through the rest of the year. And just try to ignore Dr. Campbell’s rants maybe? The lady is like 50,000 years old you said, of course she’s going to have some weird, outdated thoughts about social issues. It’s no good getting yourself stressed and agitated over it.

  I wish I could complain to you about the things I have to put up with here on a daily basis but it’s all super confidential and would be treason, even for me. So, all you’re going to have to go on is that it sucks pretty bad. And it’s super boring. No shocker there. Doing anything fun for Halloween? I know you Americans are obsessed with that holiday.

  Yours,

  Nik

  Nik,

  First of all, do not tell me to chill out. This is my future. MY FUTURE. Like I could very easily not get in anywhere. And then what? End up in some $12/hour marketing job, answering phones in a call center? (I may have had a nightmare about that). And it’s impossible not to get agitated when a dinosaur of a woman who never stops talking about having a PhD won’t stop talking about how much she thinks gay marriage is some kind of horrible fault in our society. Hello??? I’m willing to bet at least a third of the population at school is gay and you can’t just start talking about it like that???

  Whatever. I’ll get over it.

  I know you meant the greatest holiday ever when you said Halloween with such a snort (I know you were snorting). As a matter of fact I do have fantastic, all-American plans for it. It falls on a Saturday this year which means I have parental permission to actually do something for it (though being 18 means I could technically do whatever I want, you know how my dad is). Peter is throwing a party in his backyard since he’s got all this space back there and he’s been dying to have one. His dad’s off at base camp and his mom went with him so there is no one to tell us no. It’s my first house party and I’m kind of nervous, but hey, gotta get that prep time in for college, right? I’ll keep you posted on my hangover.

  --Isabel

  After I sent that letter, I didn’t hear from Nik for two weeks. I didn’t even really notice it at the time. Instead I was being dragged to every location of those pop-up Spirit Halloween Stores around town.

  “Are we sure there isn’t a costume theme for this party?” Jennifer asked, sifting through the collect of Wonder Woman costumes.

  “Just, you know, wear one,” Jess said.

  “What are you wearing?” Jennifer asked her.

  “Vampire.”

  “Lame.”

  I was aimlessly looking over by the vampire costumes as well. There was also the sexy cat and sexy nurse and sexy fire fighter and basically every version of all the staple costumes as a short skirt and plunging neckline. I didn’t think I would be able to pull that off, but Jennifer insisted I try to wear something “alluring” after I mentioned just buying a pair of scrubs and going as a Grey’s Anatomy nurse.

  “Are we sure I can’t just like, throw on one of these knock-off Game of Thrones costumes?” I called. “It’s not exactly like I have anyone to impress at this party.”

  “At least try to make yourself look good. What’s the point of Halloween if you can’t show yourself off? You’re super pretty, Isabel, and you deserve more than going as like the Bride of Frankenstein or something,” Jennifer said.

  She always had this unique way of giving compliments in a completely genuine way that also felt like a backhanded criticism. It was a weird little gift she had and Jess was rolling her eyes at it from across the store.

  “Should I go with Wonder Woman or Supergirl?” Jennifer asked.

  “Who could kick whose ass?” Jess said.

  “Aren’t they like basically the same thing?” I asked. “One’s an immortal Amazon princess and the other is like an unkillable alien. Win-win.”

  In the end she felt like the Supergirl costume “showed off her curves” better. As for me, I snuck a glance at a Where’s Waldo costume that I’d come back to get when Jennifer wasn’t there to judge my costume decisions.

  When I got back home, Nik’s reply letter had finally arrived. It was sitting, perfectly propped in the mailbox. I pulled it inside and mumbled something to my mom as I tucked it under my arm and took it upstairs to read without her looking over my shoulder. She’d become very interested in any correspondence with Nik now that she knew everyth
ing, and part of me completely regretted ever telling her. But it would come in handy one day, when I needed advice.

  Isabel,

  Tell your teacher I’ve got a nice suggestion for a place where she can shove her outdated views (is that American enough of a response?) I severely hope your next letter brings good college news, just to help you get some sleep at night (and because I yearn for the day when I don’t have to hear your rant du jour about it).

  Glad to hear you’ve got Halloween plans. Sounds fun. Is Peter a new friend? Are Jess and Jennifer going?

  Yours,

  Nik

  Even though it was the shortest letter he had sent me yet, I could just see in his final question how many times he had perhaps erased, re-written it, or even started all over again. It didn’t take someone two weeks to write a paragraph. Even if he was a king.

  It didn’t occur to me that I’d made some sort of mistake by mentioning Peter. I didn’t think of him in that way, like at all. Not that he wasn’t a good-looking guy and totally dateable for anyone else who wasn’t me. But we also had nestled ourselves so deep in our respective friend zones that the idea of dating him seemed gross.

  But I could see Nik’s point of view on this, I guess. He was half a world away and jealous over some guy I knew? I could see it. But it also left a bad taste in my mouth as I remembered those tabloid photos and all the ways he had absolutely no right to ever be jealous of me about the people I hung out with.

  So I didn’t write him back that night or even in the next three days after.

  * * *

  The day before Halloween a letter came for me in the mail from New York University. I felt my mouth go dry and thought I might just completely pass out at the end of my tiny driveway, staring into the gaping hole of the mailbox. It’s funny how stuff you were so desperate to finally get could also be your absolute worst fear.

  Somehow I walked myself into the house with shaky legs. I put down all the other mail and considered calling my mom in from the office where she was sending emails for work. There were pros and cons to having someone there in the moment of truth. But I also didn’t want to wait any longer. I decided to just go for it. Rip it open, avoid a paper cut with my incredibly shaky hands, and end this weird game of Schrodinger’s Cat.

  So that’s what I did. I tore right through envelope with the purple lettering and a couple sheets of paper spilled out. I grabbed at the one addressed to me and read the word “Congratulations” on the first line of the opening paragraph. I could have cried from excitement. I was vaguely aware of more information as I read the rest of it. Stuff about how to accept and deadlines and freshman services but all I saw was the giant, blinking neon sign that told me I got in.

  “Mom!” I called.

  I didn’t wait for her to show up. I ran into the office and shoved the letter in front of her without really so much as a word. She took one glance at it and her annoyed expression at being interrupted instantly turned into a huge grin. She stood up and pulled me into the tightest, best hug I’d ever felt.

  “Congrats,” she said. “I don’t want to say ‘I knew it’ but I did. Mom’s intuition style.”

  “I don’t care what you knew or didn’t know, I feel like this isn’t real,” I said and she laughed.

  “Not a dream, kiddo,” she said. “We’ll find a fun way to tell your dad when he gets back.”

  So yeah, it was going to be the best Halloween ever. In fact, I’d make an altar to Halloween in my closet and worship for the rest of my life. Everything else, including my C+ on my organic chemistry test, meant nothing, as far as I was concerned. Assuming a meteor didn’t crash into me between now and next fall, I’d be going to NYU. There were other schools I was waiting to hear back from, but this one was my first choice.

  And my second instinct after telling my mom was to tell Nik. I forgot about my annoyance over his jealousy and feverishly started writing in my notebook.

  Nik!!

  I’m sorry if there’s some crazy bad spelling in here or if this is hard to read but I GOT INTO NYU!! No more nightmares about working in McDonald’s or at some tech support center!! I’m TWEAKING!!

  Anyway, I’m prepping for that Halloween party. Pete’s a new guy in school that Jennifer and I kind of adopted. Jess is going too. I’m sure I’ll have all sorts of fun stories about that. But right now all I can think about is how FREAKING PUMPED I AM. I’ll send you a more coherent letter at some point. Talk to you later!

  -ISABEL!!

  Maybe I was a little drunk on endorphins when I wrote that letter but I didn’t care, everything was just too perfect.

  * * *

  Pete went all out on the Halloween decorations. Everything in the backyard was expertly wrapped in fake cobwebs with little plastic spiders perched in them. Fake jack-o-lanterns were the centerpiece at every fold up table he’d set up and a Halloween Spotify playlist was blaring from Bose speakers in the corner.

  “Damn,” Jess said. “Did you hire someone?”

  “Nope,” he said. “I just get super bored sometimes and totally fixate on stuff. This is the result of me spending like three hours deciding on how I wanted it to look.”

  Pete was dressed as some Rambo army guy (because he thought it would be ironic). Jess’s version of a vampire was literally her everyday clothes with a pair of plastic vampire teeth shoved in her mouth (“I’m a modern vampire who pays taxes”). Jennifer did wear the Supergirl costume pretty well and was kind of obsessed with the cape. She didn’t scoff too much at my outfit and Pete thought it was funny. So far, so good.

  “So I got into NYU,” I said casually, looking at one of the jack-o-lanterns.

  A resounding “WHAT?” came from all three of them.

  “Details!” Jennifer yelled.

  “I agree,” Pete said.

  I told them about the letter and they let me squeal as much as I wanted. Some people started showing up for the party around us and gave me weird looks when they heard my high pitched yelling but I didn’t care.

  “This means shots,” Pete said. “Pick your poison.”

  “The most alcohol I ever had was some crazy expensive wine at a fancy party once,” I said. “You pick.”

  That was a mistake because he picked vodka. I’d never had it before and I never wanted to have it again. Shots were so weird. The second it was in my mouth I wanted nothing more than to spit it back out again. Instead I swallowed it because I would never live down doing a spit-take on my very first shot. Jess gave me a solid clap on the back when I started coughing.

  “Happy Halloween!” Pete shouted.

  At some point the Halloween music turned into a top 40 playlist and no one was complaining. I was never one for dancing, but this felt like such a normal thing and, inevitably, my mind traveled to Nik.

  I could see the allure of it, of his partying and letting go. Though I still couldn’t understand the way he shut me out, I could see why he hid himself away in clubs with loud music and drinks. There was something so freeing and fun about all of this. It felt a little bit like floating. Though I knew that was probably the alcohol, since this was the drunkest I’d ever been in my life. But it was also easily the best night of my life.

  So I decided, right then, to stop blaming Nik for everything. Sure, he acted like a total asshole. And sometimes he still acted like an asshole. But we each do things in our own way for our own reasons. Maybe I was having fun tonight to celebrate, but I could understand doing this same thing to try and get away from something. And the more sips of beer I threw back (even though I didn’t like the taste), the more content I felt with it all.

  Sure, by morning my sober mind could easily decide he still didn’t deserve to be forgiven outright. But for right now, I felt like it was right and I hoped the sober Isabel thought so too.

  “3…2…1….midnight!” Pete shouted.

  “Wrong holiday,” Jess said.

  “Excuse you, it’s November 1st which means it’s officially Christmas time,” he slu
rred back.

  “That’s not how any of this works,” Jennifer said.

  “Don’t ruin my holiday fun!”

  We all laughed and drank some more and demolished the bags of potato chips. It really was the best night I’d had in who knew how long. The only thing that was really missing was the ability to turn and talk to Nik. He wasn’t there; he was an entire ocean and quite a few countries away. Which sucked. But one day maybe, he’d be able to be just right there, right next to me, whenever I needed him to be.

  Until then, I laughed with my friends into the night.

  * * *

  The hangover was really something. It hurt and made me feel like my body was some kind of strange version of the Tinman and I needed oil everywhere. Oil and to sleep for the next 10 years to make it all go away. I tried not to groan too loud when I first opened my eyes and was met with the atrocious sight of sunlight.

  So this was a hangover.

  A voice that sounded an awful lot like Jess, inside my head, told me that I should get used to it. I didn’t think of NYU as a party school but what was college without drinking?

  I really wasn’t sure what I was expecting from my first hangover. It was both worse and better than I thought. Better because my stomach, even as I shifted to sit up, remained fairly neutral to all the awful things I’d put into it. Worse, however, because I never knew you could really conceptualize what it feels like to have nails drilled into your head but there I was with a splitting headache.

  I wondered what the best way to avoid my mother finding out was. Or worse, my father. I could just imagine my mother’s look of utter disappointment at my life choices. Still, she had to know a high school Halloween party on a Saturday wouldn’t be completely tame.

  I swung my legs off the side of the bed and hazarded a stretch. Nothing felt like it was going to make a reappearance in the form of an unfortunately timed vomit session. All in all, it could be worse.