Tarnished Crown

by Erin Watt

  “Morning, Gid, Reed,” she sings.

  “What a bitch.” Shea grabs my wrist again and starts to drag me off. “Let’s go.”

  I dig my heels in. “No. Why?”

  “There’s no point in challenging Jordan. Let it all shake out and see which Royal she cuts loose.”

  “No.” I twist free. “I’m not interested in any Royal. I want Gideon.”

  Shea stomps back. “This isn’t a restaurant. You don’t get to go in and order one of them off the menu.”

  I glare at her. “Isn’t that what Jordan’s doing? Deciding which of the Royals she wants?”

  “You’re not Jordan.”

  “Damn right I’m not, but I didn’t get up at five this morning and spend two hours flat-ironing my hair and putting makeup on just to give up before I even get a chance to introduce myself.” I cross my arms over my chest.

  Shea heaves a great, put-upon sigh. “Fine, but if Jordan comes after you, I don’t know you.” Then she lifts her chin, tugs on the bottom of her blazer and pastes her best country-club smile on her face.

  “You look like you’re at a Miss Bayview contest.”

  “Shut up and smile, dummy,” she says without moving her lips. “They’re moving our way.”

  I twist around and nearly fall over. She’s right. Gideon’s only a few yards away. Close enough that I can admire the fit of his T-shirt underneath the unbuttoned dress shirt and uniform blazer.

  Three’s saying something to him that he finds amusing. The side of his mouth is quirked up. Three’s girlfriend slaps him across the arm. Gideon hides his laughter by bringing a hand up to his nose, but Bailey hears him chuckle and delivers a light slap. Gideon grabs her and pulls her under his arm.

  “God, she’s so lucky,” I sigh.

  “Yup,” Shea agrees.

  We both watch as Three wrestles Bailey away from Gideon, saying something in mock anger as Gideon raises his hands up innocently. The whole time, Jordan’s walking next to the group with only Reed paying her even the slightest attention.

  So maybe Jordan’s no competition, after all. Gid doesn’t appear the least bit interested in her. God, he’s beautiful. The sun’s rays seem to follow him, providing his perfect body with the most gorgeous fall backdrop. I could look at him all–

  A blot appears in my sight line.

  “Hey, Shea,” says the blot. “Who’s this?”

  I crane my head around the blot, but it moves, too. With a frown, I look up into the square jaw of senior Aiden Crowley and his two minions, Dumb and Dumber.

  “It’s my sister.” Shea flips her hair over her shoulder. “Savannah, this is Aiden Crowley.”

  “Yeah, I know. Nice to meet you.” I hold out a hand while still trying to spot Gideon. Crap, he’s going to bypass us because of stupid Aiden.

  I barely notice when Aiden takes my fingers in his or steps closer to me. “Wow. Little Savannah Montgomery, all grown up. Last time I saw you, I swear you had braces and…different hair?”

  “Amazing what a flat-iron and some makeup will do.” The sweet laced with venom voice belongs to Jordan.

  I freeze as she comes to a stop in front of us. She gives me a scary, toothy smile, which I endure because Gideon has stopped, too.

  “Too bad about the sophomore smell,” Jordan remarks. “That’s not something even a good bottle of perfume can get rid of.”

  “We all had it once,” Bailey admonishes.

  “But Jordan has only ever smelled like roses, right?” Aiden says.

  “Bullshit,” Gideon coughs into his hand.

  Jordan throws Gideon a glare as she threads her arm through Aiden’s. “If you say so, Addy.”

  Addy? I arch an eyebrow toward Shea, who elbows me in the gut again. Dammit. How am I supposed to stand up straight if she keeps doing that? I shove her aside, gently so no one notices.

  A muffled snort catches my attention. I look up to see Gideon smiling at us.

  “I can tell you two are related,” he comments. “You remind me of my brothers and me.”

  “Yeah, well, can’t live with them, and your mom says you can’t kill them.” I reach over and ruffle my sister’s hair.

  “Stop it.” She bats my hand away and gives me the look of death.

  “Yup, siblings. Aren’t they the best?” Gideon winks.

  My heart explodes. “T-t-the best,” I stammer out.

  Beside me, Shea groans. Everyone else grins. Everyone but Jordan.

  Instead, she rolls her eyes, and sticks her other arm inside Gideon’s elbow. “Come on, guys,” she says, leading the group away from us. “I’m thinking of having a party and I was wondering if you could give me some tips on how much liquor we’ll need. Did I tell you my dad’s working with Kendrick Lamar’s agent? Maybe we should have him perform at the Fall Ball.”

  Gideon perks up. “Kendrick Lamar? That’d be lit, Jordan.”

  “I know, right? His music is so interesting.” The rest of her conversation is too quiet for Shea and me to hear.

  “Does she really know Kendrick Lamar?” I wonder aloud.

  “Maybe? Who knows.” Shea turns and straightens my blazer collar. “You did good up until the end there. Please try to speak in complete sentences when you’re around Gideon. No one wants to date an idiot.”

  My cheeks grow hot. “Thanks, Shea.”

  She ignores my sarcasm and pats my face. “You’re welcome. Let’s go inside.”

  We turn to follow Jordan and the Royals. At the base of the stairs, we find Jordan standing to the side alone, typing something on her phone.

  I want to walk past her without saying anything. No need to poke the beast, in my opinion, but Shea stops.

  “Hey, Jordan.”

  Jordan’s head raises slightly, not enough to look at us, but enough to acknowledge our presence.

  “Shea, tell your sister to roll her tongue back in her mouth. She was getting drool all over Giddy’s shoes.”

  “I’ll pass that along,” Shea replies dryly, then tugs me up the stairs before I can blurt out an insult.

  “Giddy?” I ask incredulously once the school doors close behind us.

  “It’s enough to make you vomit,” Shea agrees. “But it is what it is. Jordan’s at the top. Don’t antagonize her or it’ll go poorly for you.”

  Asshole Park is turning out to be the nightmare I thought it was going to be. I run a hand over my stick-straight locks.

  This school is filled with a few hundred kids of the South’s finest families. And by finest, I mean the ones that have money. But even here, there’s a hierarchy. There’s the old money, the origins of which no one likes to acknowledge. Then there’s the new money, which often has a dirty birthing place, too. Then there’s the scholarship students who are trying to either marry into money or create their own awful legacy. Basically, everyone here is trying to eat the lunch of everyone else.

  It’s been this way since middle school. I guess that’s when we first started noticing that we could separate from each other based on how far back to the Mayflower we could trace our family trees.

  Shea and I come from new money in manufacturing instead of land like the Royals. There aren’t many old money families left—at least not that have actual money. I think that’s why so many girls are excited about the five Royal brothers. It’s a chance to polish the family tree.

  That’s not the reason I’m in love with Gideon Royal. And it’s not because he’s gorgeous, either. Not that his tall, dark-haired, leanly muscled frame is a turn-off, but it’s not that, either.

  It’s because Gideon Royal, for all his rumored coldness, was kind to me at a time when I needed it the most. I’ll never forget that moment. He stole my heart then and he’ll always have it.

  Now I have one year with him to figure out how to win his.

  Chapter 3

  Gideon

  Present Day

  The lights in the sorority house begin to flicke
r off one by one like individual candles being snuffed out. I lift the beer can to my lips. Savannah’s in one of those rooms, taking off her top, brushing her teeth, climbing under the covers. She always wore a pair of shorts and a tank to bed. After we started dating, she’d take my gear and claim it as her own.

  I wonder what she wears now. Whose clothes she’s sleeping in.

  I wonder how many guys have seen her flushed cheeks and bare shoulders. How many of them have traced the line of skin above her waistband and felt the reverb of her body as she shudders.

  The sound of crumpling metal fills the air my fingers curl tighter around the beer can.

  “She’s a fine looking ghost,” Cal observes from the sidewalk behind me.

  I ease up on the can and sit down on the curb next to my friend. “The best.”

  Savannah had caught my eye the first day of school. But it wasn’t her looks that made her stand out. It was the barely suppressed delight in her eyes. To her, each day was an exciting adventure. Until I broke her, that is.

  “Did she dump your ass?”

  “Something like that.”

  He hums sympathetically. “Must’ve been a bad breakup. Is that why you’ve never hooked up with any of the girls here?”

  That and I’ve come to hate sex, but that’s a story I don’t want to get into, not even with Cal. It’s easier to claim heartbreak as the reason why I’m not interested in chasing tail around campus.

  “That’s why,” I confirm. I grab another can and take a long pull.

  He finishes his own drink before snatching another from the case we bought at the convenience store up the street. “There were rumors you were gay.”

  “I know.” In college, if you aren’t nailing girls every spare moment, then you’re gay. People tend to be binary like that. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Nah. I always knew that was false. You never once looked at my awesome ass.”

  “Not true.” I count the windows on the house and wonder which one she’s crashing in. “I’ve noticed your ass plenty. Your cheeks are lopsided.”

  “What!” he exclaims. “No way.” He raises one butt cheek off the ground for inspection.

  I chuckle into my beer. “You work your left glut more than your right.”

  “I’ve got to see this.” He stands up and hands me his phone. “Take a picture of me.”

  “And by you, you mean your ass?”

  He juts his butt in my face. “Yeah, my ass.” He pats his left cheek with one hand while holding up his sweatshirt with the other. “There’s no way my ass cheeks are different sizes.”

  “I’m not taking a picture of your butt, Cal.” I shove his rear out of my face. It’s blocking my view. Another light flickers out.

  “Why not? I gotta know,” he insists. “It’s going to bug me now.”

  “Your jeans are in the way. The picture isn’t going to show anything but them.”

  “Fine.” He proceeds to unbuckle his belt.

  “Jesus H. Christ, Cal. What the hell!” I reach up and grab the back of his jeans and pull them up. “Neither of us are drunk enough for that shit right now.”

  Across the street, the front door opens. Both Cal and I freeze. A figure steps out and my breath catches in my throat. As she walks, I let it out. It’s not Savannah. Even in the dark, I can tell it’s not her.

  The air would change if it was. My skin would draw tight and it’d be difficult to breathe. The stars would shine brighter and the night sky would feel less oppressive..

  No. It’s not Savannah.

  Instead, it’s our teammate Julie Kantor.

  “Can you two move under the street lamp? We’re trying to film your impromptu porno but the light is bad,” she calls out as she approaches.

  Cal waves to her with one hand, the other still gripping the waistband of his jeans. “Julie! We need your unbiased opinion.” He swings around and jiggles his ass in her direction. “Are my ass cheeks different sizes?”

  I pop open a beer and hand it to her. “If you don’t answer, he’s going to drop trou and ask you to take a picture.”

  “I’m not stopping that,” she says cheerfully and then waves a hand toward the front of her sorority house. “But like I said, get into the light so my sisters can see you better. No point in giving a show if no one can see you.”

  “Really?” Cal looks confused for a minute.

  I give him a vigorous shake of my head, but he’s torn. Julie said to take his pants off and generally he does what she tells him to because he can’t think for himself when she’s in his orbit. Those two should date already. They remind me of Three and Bailey.

  “No, honey,” she sighs. She joins me on the curb and pats a space next to her. “Your ass is fine. Sit down.”

  He hesitates but predictably drops down beside her.

  “My president was going to call the police and report a suspicious character loitering around the house, but I told her that you’re already suffering cruel and unusual punishment,” Julie informs me.

  “Is that right?” I lean back and try to figure out if any of the dark shapes in the front window belong to Sav. Crap, what am I going to do if she actually attends this college next year? Probably pitch a tent and live outside this sorority house.

  “You’ve sat out here drinking with Cal for the last half-hour gazing longingly at your ex’s shadow.”

  I don’t even try to deny it. “I actually can’t figure out which room she’s in, so I haven’t been staring at her shadow exactly. You could help me out by pointing out which room she’s staying in..”

  “Why? Do you plan to scale the castle walls and stare down the dragon?”

  “Is the dragon your house mom or president?”

  “Neither.” Julie laughs and takes a sip of her beer. “That’d be Savannah herself. She was breathing fire when I left the house.”

  “She was, was she? I like that.” The grip around my beer loosens. Or maybe it’s the tight band around my chest that eases up.

  “Your ex being mad makes you happy?” Cal asks.

  “Sav’s been cold for two years. I like hearing that she’s angry. It means she still cares.”

  “That’s not how it works,” my friend protests. “You’re supposed to make her happy, not mad. Mad people leave and they don’t get back together. My parents hate each other, which is why they’re divorced.” He turns to Julie. “Right?”

  She gives a small shrug. “Possibly. Maybe our boy Gid’s being delusional or maybe the girl inside who was ranting about the dickface douchecanoe shit lord who sucks his own dick does really care about him.”

  The two clowns look at each, say, “Nah,” in unison and then bust out laughing.

  When Cal sobers up, he says, “It’d be awesome to be able to suck your own dick. I don’t think I’d leave the house. Would that make me gay? Or is that incest?”

  She rolls her eyes, but slings an arm around him. “It’d be masturbation.”

  “Oh, right. Good call.”

  I drop my forehead to the edge of the beer can. Seriously, the boy needs a keeper.

  “So you and Savannah must’ve been a thing in high school?” Julie asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “You have no idea how many girls inside are relieved to hear that. There was that gay rumor going around. At least if you’re bi, they have a chance.”

  Cal’s hand inches up.

  Julie sighs. “Yes, Cal?”

  “If he’s stuck on a girl, how does that mean that the rest of them have a chance?”

  That’s actually a good question. I cock my head and stare at Julie while she answers.

  “The other girls figure when you get unstuck, you’ll make good boyfriend material. Everyone’s inside sighing about how romantic you are and that you’re the one guy who really knows how to love a girl. This type of moony devotion is rare.

  “I’m worried about the reasoning skills of your entire house
if you think I’m someone who knows how to love. If I did, would I be sitting out here?” I wave a hand at the sidewalk.

  “Unrequited love is the most romantic,” she proclaims.

  Over her head, Cal and I exchange befuddled glances.

  “Only one person around that’s going to unstick me,” I tell Julie.

  “Hasn’t it been like years since you two broke up? Savannah said—” She bites her lip and looks away.

  I grab her arm. “Sav said what?”

  She shakes her head. “I can’t. It’s against the girl code.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Cal argues. “We’re teammates. Teammates first.”

  “Yeah,” I echo. “Teammates first. Remember how we let you play the Little Mermaid soundtrack on repeat during our Freshman Friday practices?”

  “Don’t bring that up,” Cal groans. “It’s a goddamned earworm.”

  “I want to be where the mermaids are,” Julia sings, her arms thrown wide. “I want to see, want to see them swimming, flipping around on those—” She taps her cheek as if she forgot the words. “Whadd’ya call ‘em? Oh, fins!”

  Cal slaps a hand over her mouth before she can get the rest of the words out. “We don’t have enough beer to make it through the night.” He turns to me. “Quick. Start singing something else.”

  “No. You owe me, Julie,” I insist. “What did Savannah say?”

  She sighs but capitulates. “She said you broke up years ago and that if anyone in the house wanted you, they could have you.”

  That’s a direct hit. I stare at the house again. Seeing Savannah on my turf jolted me. She isn’t ever going to come around unless I do something about it. When she was back at Astor Park Prep and I was at college, it was easier to pretend that she wasn’t moving on, that she’d join me here and we’d start our life together after college was over. But tonight revealed some hard truths I’d been avoiding. Sav’s a gorgeous girl and it won’t be long until she finds her heart again and gives it to someone else.

  Which is wrong, because her heart belongs to me. She gave it to me when she was fifteen and I haven’t given it back. She needs to know that.