Chapter 10

I snatch the first thing I see, which just so happens to be eggs benedict, my least favorite way eggs are styled. I once read in an article that they can be contaminated with salmonella bacteria, and ever since then, my perception of breakfast foods has been hindered. It’s a shame, because breakfast is supposedly the most important meal of the day. I’m tempted to try and scout for something better to eat, but the buffet is closing, and I don’t want to cause a scene. So, I nimble on the bread, taste-testing it first before diving in.

I find Cyrus waiting for me in front of my door when I walk back, and he gives me a little wave.

“Want to walk with me down to the library? There, we can discuss and work out a solution for this misfortunate situation,” he states.

“Alright,” I agree. “How’s everything been going with you lately?” I decide that it’s less awkward to talk while we’re walking down the hallway together, rather than being in complete silence.

“Fine,” he shrugs. “Nothing out of the ordinary has happened to me these past few weeks. Classes, homework, parties, repeat, you know the vibe?”

“Yeah. I suppose what I meant to ask was... do you have any plans for the holidays?”

“Um, yeah, I do. Normally, my brother and I would go skiing all winter long, but since he’s in college now, he thinks he’s too cool to hang out with his little brother. Therefore, I’m going to Paris with my parents.”

“Paris? Wow.”

“I know, right? It was kind of a spontaneous decision on their part, but I’m pumped. I was thinking of bringing a friend with me since they’ll be attending some conferences, so you’re welcome to tag along. No worries if you already have plans.” I must say that I was not at all expecting Cyrus to invite me to travel with him, but I can’t say I’m not thrilled at the idea of visiting a new country with a relatively new friend. Winter break is all about new experiences, and what better opportunity could I possibly have to visit the city of romance?

“I’ll have to confer about this with my family, but I’ll think about it.”

“Take your time. Just let me know before we board the plane,” he laughs.

“Will do,” I confirm, right as we enter the library doors. All of us gather around by the table, with Marvin leading the conversation,

“Alright, so what are we going to do? Has anyone come up with something? If not, then I suggest we take the easiest route out by pointing the finger at Sander.” He’s really pushing my buttons right now, and intentionally or not, I know I have to divert this downhill train of thought he has.

“Actually, I have a better idea. We’ll just let Peyton fall,” I chirp up. The others look at me with incredulous eyes, but I can tell their gears are rolling, taking in my suggestion.

“No, no, no,” Juliano shakes his head firmly. “We can’t do that; he’s part of the Force. We swore to protect both the royal family, and each other.”

“Exactly, there goes my point. As we saw earlier, Peyton never had the best intentions for us. He’d do anything to stay here at Bayshore, including throwing us to the wolves. This just proves that he’s only looking out for himself, and himself only,” I argue.

“You can’t say that. If you were put into his shoes, I can’t imagine you’d be any different,” Juliano rebuts, but his voice falters, diminishing the lack of confidence he once had.

“Besides,” I continue. “You’re not in charge here; we’re a democracy. And soon enough, you’ll be kicked out if you don’t pay up for the next semester. Do you want the entire school to know that you’re dirt-poor?” He gasps loudly at my last two sentences, and the whole room falls into an unbearable silence. I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud, but I also have a tendency to not always think before I speak, or act, for that matter. Blackmailing him isn’t my proudest moment, but it’s the only way I can see him keeping his mouth shut about Sander.

His face confirms that what I’ve said is true, as if it weren’t blatantly obvious before. He’s biting the edge of his lip with furor, almost to the point where he can taste his own grisly blood. This is the first time I can see a glint of vulnerability within his gaze, like he’s not made of metal after all. The muscles in his jaw tighten, while his ragged breathing turns shallow.

“How. The. Hell. Do you know that?” his voice quavers out of weakness.

“I know everything. It’s purely a matter of time before the truth sprawls itself in front of me,” I deflect. Mentioning Sander or Miss Charlemagne could possibly tarnish my bonds with them, so I opt for a broader response. Although it doesn’t answer his question, judging from the gravity of my tone, he doesn’t try to battle me on this one.

“So, that settles it,” I conclude. “We’ll blame Peyton. It’s a numbers game and he's outnumbered, so whatever strings he tries to pull won’t work out for him. Any objections?” Once again, the room divides into silence. No one has the guts to protest, after the way they saw me call out my own cousin. Gradually, Marvin nods his head. He’s shaking a tad bit, but confirms my decision. No one says anything, so I end the conversation for them.

“Good, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll see you all later,” the corners of my mouth perk up in a half-smile as I leave the library. Phase one of my job has been accomplished, and it went even better than I anticipated. Of course, I do feel bad for Peyton because he’s been nothing but welcoming to me from the few times we’ve talked. Yet, someone has to take the fall, and I’d much rather it be him than Sander. I try to comfort my nerves by reminding myself that Peyton was the one who showed his cards. Peyton was the one who’d backstab us in a second for his own benefit. This was the only way out, and everything will return back to normal soon enough.

The second step on my agenda is to spill the tea to Miss Charlemagne. The lie we made has all the reason to be bought. This makes me sound like a bad person, but I’m not. No one really is, but people can just do bad things. Perhaps what I’m about to do is unprincelike, but that’s just a cost I’ll have to deal with. I breathe in and out a few times before knocking on her office door.

“Come in,” a voice answers. Inside, I’m met with her assistant, standing nonchalantly by the potted plant. She gives me a friendly smile, and then flicks her ginger hair that’s overflowing down to her plaid blazer. I haven’t seen her before, but I’ve also barely been in this place fewer times than I can count on a single hand.

“Miss Charlemagne is currently wrapping up her meeting, so she’ll be with you in just a second. I’m Mrs. Mayfield, by the way.”

“Cool,” I nod. “You probably already know me, but I’m Nicolas. Nice meeting you.” We converse about some light topics to fill up the time, such as what music we’re into and things like that. It doesn’t take long for Miss Charlemagne to round the corner and join us.

“Oh, how lovely it is to see you in person this time! Tell me, what have you been up to?” she beams. She takes the seat beside me while Mrs. Mayfield shuffles away to give us some privacy.

“Well, I know about Peyton’s suspension, so I came today to talk about it and explain to you what happened.” I waste no time diving right in, because it provides me with no benefit to slowly lead into something that needs to be said. I’d rather be upfront about it.

“Ah, okay. What he did was something very serious, and unfortunately, he’ll just have to pay the consequences,” she exhales.

“Yes, I know. I’m not here to justify what he did. In fact, I’m here to do quite the opposite. You see, he was the one who offered me drugs. And not only me, but everyone else who came to my welcome party.”

“You’re saying that he was in possession of these illegal substances, and willingly handed them out to other students,” her eyebrows shoot up in a vacillating manner.

“Yeah. I don’t know what story he told you, but it’s false. A few of my friends wanted to talk with you too, and they can clear up anything you still have questions about.”

“Okay, but why did he do that? I can’t imagine a good enough reason for him to risk something as major as expulsion.”

“To be honest, I don’t know. My best guess is that he wanted to be cool, to fit in with everyone else. But he should’ve known better, because our school explicitly says that there is a zero-tolerance policy for drugs. I assume he thought it would make him popular among the freshmen.”

“What did you say to him? Why didn’t you come to me immediately?” she questions, her expression dithering between a mix of dumbfounded and skeptical.

“I told him I had no interest in those such things. I apologize for not telling you right away, but I thought it wasn’t a big deal. No, wait. It was a big deal, but I thought that he was joking around with us. I didn’t think he was actually serious.”

“Thank you, Nicolas, for providing me with this information. Your help is much appreciated.”

“Anytime. Thank you for listening.” I stand up from my chair, and she holds out the door for me to exit. That went well. Maybe things are finally looking up for me. I’d like to hope so. The rest of the day crawls by, while I patiently wait for the winter formal, where I’ll be able to talk to Sander. I’m a tad bit early to the dance, but luckily, I spot a familiar face, which happens to be Brynleigh, who’s hoarding all the snacks in the snack aisle.

“How’s it going?” I pipe up. “You better leave some treats for the rest of us.”

“Haha, very funny. I eat a lot, but not this much,” she discloses with her mouth half-full. Just then, the music unfolds, with students concurrently stuffing the room until all I can see are swarms of heads bopping to the beat. Brynleigh takes my hand, in more of a friendly manner than a flirtatious one, and guides me to the dance floor.

Without saying a word, she bursts into a dance, twirling both rhythmically and graciously. My eyes move from her hair to her shoulders to her hips. It shocks me how I’ve never noticed her raw beauty, but then again, I never paid much attention to her. Every time we’ve interacted, there was always at least a third person present in the room. Strangely enough, I’m not attracted by it. By her. This gorgeous girl is standing right in front of me, and yet I feel nothing. Okay... nothing is a strong word, but what I mean is that the connection doesn’t feel there. Not like how it feels with Sander.

She realizes that my mind is drifting away and puts her hands on my shoulders in hopes of brightening up my mood. We’re rocking back and forth and to her credit, the tenseness that I once felt eases up. I focus on the moment; on the way our bodies move together so harmoniously. I’ve never been much of a dancer myself, but the way she effortlessly leads the way almost makes me feel like dancing is easy.

We communicate with our movements until her pupils glide away. I trace them to see who she’s staring at, and it’s none other than Kaiden. Of course, a girl like her would fall for him. I should’ve known. Being the generous young man I am, I motion for her to go ahead. I can see it in the glimmer of her pupils that she’s really into him.

“Are you sure?” she whispers with a doubtful look.

“Yes! Go do your thing and trust me: he won’t be able to resist you,” I force a laugh. Not that I’m jealous of them or anything, because I know how it feels to have your heart flipping in loops for someone. I just wish it were that simple. I wish I could dance and do normal, teenage stuff with Sander without having a million eyes gawk at us. But it’s not like that, and that’s what makes it so hard to be together. We have to hide. I don’t want to stay hidden away, but I have no choice.

What's the worst that can happen if I ask Sander for one dance? One dance doesn’t have to mean anything. Guys hang out together all the time, and no one even bats an eye at whether or not something deeper is going on. I know we were planning to meet up after it was all over, but why delay it? I frantically search the overcrowded room, and right when I’m on the brink of losing hope, there he is. He’s wearing the slightest bit of eyeliner that wouldn’t even be noticeable, if not for the copious amount of time we’ve spent together. And it looks stunning on him.

When he first spots me, he seems a little taken aback, like he’s surprised that I’m here even though he knew I was attending the formal. He says something to his friends before cautiously making his way to me.

“What are you doing?” he mouths, sneaking glances at the crowd to make sure no one is watching us. Luckily, everyone is so self-absorbed in their own bubbles to be bothered.

“We should talk,” I whisper back. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.” He rolls his eyes halfway then follows me out of the dance floor. The roaring music is quite honestly making me nauseous, so I motion for him to run with me to the empty art classroom. I lock the door shut and we sit on the wooden desks which are smothered with dried paint.

“We decided to blame it on Peyton,” I announce to him. “No one said anything bad about you.” He doesn’t respond right away, staring blankly at me instead. After a long pause, he shakes his head.

“What, you expect me to thank you?” he scoffs like I just said something crazy. There’s still a grenade in his chest, contained but susceptible to an explosion at any second. I take a deep breath, inhaling all of the dust suffusing the air. I don’t blame him for being upset. I blame myself for getting into this situation in the first place. This could have been easily prevented, but now I have to deal with the consequences. I try to think of something reasonable to say, yet it feels like all my words are numb and stuck at the back of my throat.

“I just– I’m sorry,” I mumble with watery eyes. “I don’t want to lose you. You’re the only person that I can talk to without being self-conscious. You’re the only one here that doesn’t judge me, or look at me differently because I’m a prince.” The tears this time start trickling down, and even with all my efforts of batting them away, the warm liquid fogs my line of view. Sander wipes them out of my face, his hand gently breezing my eyelids. As he does that, I pull him in for a hug, crushing my face into his suit.

“I’m sorry too,” he sniffles, fighting back his own tears. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you like that.”

“I promise to always stick up for you, Sander. I don’t know what got into me that day, but I deeply regret it. You’re the best thing that has happened to me in my life,” my confession is cut short by a peck on my forehead, and then another, and then some more, all the way trailing down until he finds my lips. Unlike the other ones we’ve had, this is a more demanding kiss, with a surging tide of warmth that’s enough to make me helpless. I can feel myself drowning in his mouth, simultaneously tasting the saltiness that is my tears.

Right as our tongues are about to touch, a blaring ding vibrates off my phone, making me jump out of reflex. I want to keep our lips locked together like they were a second ago, but he backs away precipitously.

“You should probably check on that,” he mutters. “Could be important.” I make a groaning sound before turning on my phone. My index finger swipes up to see Aurora’s name in bold, and I wonder what she has to say that could possibly be more urgent than our kiss. When her message finally loads, my mouth cartwheels off of my face in pure shock. Are u gay??!