There it was, my heart in a voicemail. Now, I would wait for him to call me back and hope for the best.
I was bored with school being out for the next few days, so I decided to grab some coffee and then hit the gym. It was the best way to work off my anxiety. Running five miles on a treadmill would take away a massive amount of stress, then swimming for an hour would pretty much wipe out any energy I would have left, whether it would be positive or negative.
I didn't care; I needed an outlet for my pain. I desperately needed somewhere to put all of my pent-up anger at Clayton, Poppy, and all of Drew's friends. I needed to sweat and work out to get rid of all my frustrations. If I knew Drew, he was probably doing the same thing at his condo. He loved working out, and I imagined that he had been pumping iron for the last two days to get rid of his pain as well.
***
The day wore on without a word from Drew, and I was beginning to worry a bit. He had rugby practice for four hours each day this week because of the game coming up on Sunday, but where he was all the rest of the time was beyond my ability to even guess. Maybe he was with his family. He liked to visit his mother as much as he could, so I tried not to worry. If we were going to work things out, we needed to communicate as soon as possible.
After a quick trip to the grocery store, I whipped up a salad and diet soft drink. It wasn't my first choice, that would have been pizza, but I had always been an emotional eater, and I didn't want to give in to my nerves just because they were frazzled.
I read over a couple of chapters in psychology as I slowly ate dinner. I was trying my best to keep my mind off of Drew, but it was getting harder with each hour that passed. I was missing him something awful and praying that he would call. I didn't even know if he had gotten my message. Maybe he had and he ignored me because of how I had left things between us. I’d admit I hadn't handled things very well, but I was hoping that he would at least give me a chance to explain myself so that we could move on. It wasn't looking good, though, and I was becoming more sullen as the evening wore on.
Picking up my phone without thinking, I dialed his number again and was surprised to hear him answer.
“Hello,” he sounded as if he was asleep.
“Drew?” I asked, unsure of whether or not it was him.
“Uh, yeah,” he said in a very groggy tone.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
There was silence on the line.
“Are you there?” I asked, wondering if he'd hung up on me.
“Yeah, I'm here.”
“What's wrong? Are you in bed?”
I heard rustling like a comforter moving and then footsteps.
“Yeah, I laid down to take a nap. I've been so tired the last couple of days.”
“Well, I texted you and left a couple of voicemail messages. I wasn't sure if you'd gotten them or not.”
“Uh, no. I haven't checked my messages.”
His answers were short, and it was obvious that he had no interest in talking to me.
“Is there any way that we can talk? I want to explain what happened the other day and why I disappeared on you the way I did. Drew, I'm so sorry.”
I heard the commode flush then he cleared his throat. “Uh yeah, can we do it tomorrow? I'm kind of still tired, and I want to go back to bed.”
“Yes, of course we can,” I said, relieved that he was at least willing to sit down and talk to me. “Drew?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” I had to add that if it was the last thing I said to him. I did love him, and I wanted him to know it.
“Listen, I have to go, but I'll get up with you,” he said right before he hung up.
No 'I love you' in return, no 'where did you go?', no 'I miss you'. Nothing but, “I'll get up with you.” It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it was something, at least.
I went to bed early and wondered what on earth had he been doing that had him so tired. Then it dawned on me—
rugby practice. He had to have been worn out and needed as much sleep as he could get, poor thing.
“We will get this entire mess straightened out tomorrow,” I said to myself.
I fell asleep happy that I had gotten to talk to him. Just hearing his voice brought a relief to me that I hadn't felt in several days.
***
I woke up early the next morning with an expectancy that I couldn’t contain. I was cheerful, for the first time in the past week, and I was actually looking forward to getting up and getting dressed. I wouldn’t have to drag myself up and make myself get ready; no, I was almost springing up out of bed that morning.
The sun was shining, spring flowers blooming all around us. I was happy because I wanted the weather to match my mood, or vice versa. I hated cold, drab days that seemed to linger on endlessly. You couldn't get out without nearly freezing to death, the roads were slippery and snowy, and life was all around sucky in the winter. But when the sun was out, everything was better.
I spent the day at the salon getting my hair washed and curled, getting my nails done, and splurging for a pedicure. I had never had one before, so I thought it was about time that I treated myself. It was just as divine as everyone said it would be, and I would definitely get another pedicure whenever I could afford it.
I was getting more and more anxious with each hour that passed and no word from Drew. It was now almost three in the afternoon, and he hadn't called or texted. I was beginning to panic when I walked out of the nail salon and right into Clayton.
Oh God, just when I thought things couldn't get worse.
I tried my best to just drop my head and go on, but I could tell by the way he walked toward me, he wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Pauper!” he said loudly.
“What do you want, asshole?” I asked with a bite.
“Well, look at you,” he said as he looked me up and down. “Getting all dolled up? Who's the lucky fella?” he asked mockingly.
“Clayton, I'd love to stay here and trade insults with you, but I have somewhere to be, so if you'll excuse me,” I said before trying to step around him.
He wasn't moving. “Surely you don't expect Andrew to take you out, now do you?”
He laughed like the devil as he spoke, and his utter contempt for me scared me.
“Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I do have a date with Drew. He's coming over to talk to me and get some things straightened out.”
I tried once again to step around him, but he put his arm out and blocked me.
“Let me tell you something, you little piece of trash, Drew isn’t coming to see you tonight or any other night. He's through with you. He's come back to society's elite now.”
His words stuck in my heart like a dagger, and I felt as if I would burst into tears right there on the street. But there was no way in hell that I would give that piece of shit the satisfaction of seeing my tears.
“Well, we'll just have to talk some other time,” I said as I pushed past him.
“Hey, pauper,” he called out.
For reasons unknown to me, I stopped when he said that. Maybe because deep down I felt that was really who I was. Maybe I actually felt like a poor nobody when it came to running with that crowd.
“Drew is with Poppy now.”
What? What the hell was he saying to me?
I stood there stoic, unable to move a muscle, knowing I should just walk away, but I wanted to hear what he had to say.
I heard him laugh. “Oh, so now you want to listen to me?”
I couldn't have moved if I had tried to force myself. Part of me wanted to hear what he said, part of me dreaded hearing it.
“You heard me. I set it all up. I asked Poppy if she would go to Drew and cheer him up because he seemed, well, a little down lately. Believe me, she was more than willing to go. She texted me last night and said that they fucked all day and night and that she rode him like her stud horse.”
He laughed so loud that it hurt my ears. I
couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was it true? Had he been with Poppy? Was that where he had been when he wasn't answering. I didn't know, but there was no way that Clayton was going to lay that on me and then get the last laugh in.
“It’s true. You’ll see tonight. The Royal Gala. Poppy will be on his arm, while you’ll be watching from your filthy little flat in holey pajamas and eating stale popcorn. It’s a televised event, so make sure you tune in.” He threw his head back and laughed, and fury surged through my veins.
“You know what, Clayton? I feel sorry for you because if that is true, then you have just cost yourself the best friend that you've ever had. Drew loves you, he always thought of you as a brother, and this is how you thank him?” I felt my knees shaking, and my head was spinning so fast that I thought I would hit the ground right there. I willed myself to stand up to that prick.
“Whatever is going on between Drew and me, we will work it out. If it's true that you set it all up with Poppy, well, after I tell him what you've done, he'll drop you faster than a bad habit.”
“You little bitch! Do you really think he’ll believe common trash like you over his best friend. Like you said, we’re like brothers.”
Somewhere, from a place unknown to me, I found the courage to react, with my knee slamming upward into Clayton’s balls. He clasped his groin and sucked air for breath as his knees hit the pavement.
I took off running for my car. My hands were shaking so badly that I couldn't even get the key into the ignition. I looked around to make sure that he was nowhere in sight then I burst into tears, sobbing so hard that my head felt as if it would split open right then and there.
What was I going to do? Clayton had laid a lot of information on me, and I had to sort it all out. I finally got my car started and headed back to my flat. Once inside, safe and away from everyone, I let myself go and I cried huge tears that soaked my face, neck, and shirt. I didn't care, I had to let it out.
What if it was true about Drew and Poppy? Was it possible that he could have made love to her when he was in love with me? Surely not. I could never do that to Drew. Men were different, I reminded myself. Men were like dogs; they didn't care who they screwed—they just wanted to fuck.
I thought back to my mum's heart being broken after my father admitted to an affair with his coworker when I was just thirteen-years-old. He claimed that it was just sex and that she meant nothing to him. I was eavesdropping on them the night that Mum confronted him, and although I wasn't sure about all of the how and whys of it all, I knew that sex was supposed to mean more than just being with someone's body. I promised myself at the very moment that I would never be with a man and allow him to say, 'it was just sex; it meant nothing'.
No, I wanted it to be special each time I was with someone. Now, here it was that Drew had possibly had sex with someone else. I covered my face with my hands and wept into them. “Please God, don't let it be true. That is something I don't know if I could forgive or not,” I prayed.
The memory of Drew claiming my virginity played on repeat, accosting me. How he was rough, experienced. How he explained that we’d fucked, and fucking was different than making love. He’d promised that we’d be together again, and eventually we’d make love.
He’d lied to me. He’d tricked me. Played me for a fool.
Drew never loved me.
He used me.
Chapter 17
Drew
As I stood in front of the full-length mirror clasping pins to my uniform, Eliza breezed through my mind. I had commitments as Prince, the Royal Gala being one of them, but I’d wanted Eliza here, on my arm tonight. Meeting Mum, Edward, and Maggie. Being introduced on the red carpet as my girlfriend.
The last week had been a blur. I hadn’t anticipated spending spring break at the palace, but sulking alone in my condo had grown boring before classes even closed for break. Eliza had shut me out without just cause. She’d ignored my calls, texts. She didn’t even answer when I’d gone to her flat. Although, it was rather a late hour. We didn’t typically speak in passing while at school, and I could have kicked myself for making that stipulation. She’d kept her distance from me, but I sensed something was wrong. It was almost as if we’d broken up without actually conversing it.
Then there was the entire fuck up with Poppy. Fucking Clayton. I’d let the bloody bastard manipulate me enough. With the Royal Gala closely approaching, we’d seen an influx of paparazzi hanging around campus and near the condo. It was to be expected with such a highly publicized fundraiser. To deter the vultures from creating a story that would reflect in poor taste for the Royal family, Clayton had suggested that I stay amongst my circle of friends, spend more time with Poppy and invite her to the gala just for show. Poppy being on my arm at the gala had made sense. She was a socialite, the heir of a wealthy watch manufacturer. We’d been friends for a very long time, so I didn’t question Clayton’s motives.
I’d attempted to go along with Clayton’s grand scheme until Poppy overstepped her boundaries. I had no romantic feelings for Poppy, and she of all people should have understood that we were merely keeping appearances for the tabloids and nothing more would come of our friendship.
When she’d kissed me in my car the other day, I was completely shocked that she expected more from me. Sex. There was no fucking way. We’d been old friends for as long as I could remember and Poppy had never seemed interested before. Even though Eliza had distanced herself from me, I couldn’t bear to make a move with someone else until I knew she and I were officially over.
That kiss, as innocent as I was in the action, left me with a pit of guilt in my stomach that I couldn’t get rid of. I felt dishonest for not telling Eliza, but how could I when she wouldn’t fucking talk to me. This was all a mess, and it’d left me wrecked the last couple of days.
After kicking Poppy out of my car, I’d gone home to my condo and literally sulked. I was pissed at myself, pissed at Clayton. I’d drank myself into oblivion that night, not realizing just how much alcohol I’d consumed. Whiskey would put a man on his ass, and I wasn’t a drinker usually. But I had drowned my emotions with the liquor—the anger, the confusion, the hurt.
Even when Eliza called yesterday evening, I didn’t even realize what day it was or how much I’d slept. I wanted to talk to her—needed to hear her voice—but I couldn’t wake myself up enough to carry on a conversation that would matter.
Until I woke up yesterday morning to a banging on my front door that was loud enough to wake the entire building.
Mum was pissed that I’d ignored her calls all week, so dear brother showed up to bring me home. Eighteen-years-old meant nothing in this family. I still had responsibilities to the throne.
This was Maggie’s big night, a fundraiser for her charity that was not only highly publicized, but would bring together all of England’s royal families, politicians, and businessmen. I was attending alone.
I could only blame myself that Eliza wouldn’t be on my arm. I’d put too many rules and restrictions on our relationship, and maybe she thought that I was ashamed of being with her.
No, I certainly wasn’t ashamed of Eliza, who she was or where she came from, but I could understand in hindsight what led her to those conclusions.
Hell, I hadn’t a clue what had happened, but as I stood her with these racing thoughts plaguing my mind, I knew one thing—Eliza and I had to talk.
I had a lot of questions, and I hoped she would have answers. If she didn’t want to be with me, I’d just have to understand.
Could I tell her about Poppy?
I wasn’t sure if how she’d handle that, and I realized then, if I hadn’t lost her yet, the kiss with Poppy would likely be the final nail in the coffin of my relationship with Eliza.
A knock interrupted my thoughts, and I echoed, “Come in,” as I clasped the final pin. I adjusted my tie as Edward entered my room at the palace.
“Little brother, it’s almost time for the gala. Are you ready?”
&n
bsp; “Just in time, I’d say.” I swept my arms out in front of my uniform.
“Look at you, getting all suited up with your pins and medallions without Mum showing you where everything goes properly.”
“Yes, well, it's about time I learned how to dress myself,”I said as we both chuckled.
“Drew,” Edward said with a solemn voice. I could tell the conversation was going to take a serious turn. Could it be that he could read my thoughts or see the expression of my face? I wasn’t sure. But hell, anybody who was around me long enough should’ve been able to see that something was wrong with me. I hadn’t been myself as of late, and as much as I tried to fake things around Mum, even she noticed that I was hiding something. I’d upset her terribly yesterday when I arrived, but Maggie sure set my ass in line with her little chat.
“Yes?” I replied as I gave myself one more look, turning to see my backside.
“I’m worried about you.”
I didn’t want to look at him, so I pretended to pick lint from my uniform, all the while trying my best to avoid what was to follow.
“You seem different, like something is troubling you.”
His concerns were valid. I was different. The love of my life had broken my heart, leaving me with an emptiness that I didn’t know could exist. How could I not be different?
I didn’t want to talk about it, but I felt I had no choice; he had cornered me in my room. “Well, you know how university can change a chap.” I continued to look everywhere but at him.
“It seems more serious than just going off to university.”
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