by Marian Tee
“Gabriel,” she growled.
An exasperated sound came from the other end of the line. “Yes,” the prince grumbled. “In exchange for one thing.”
Lace countered readily, “I won’t have sex with you.”
“Since I know now you have the most awful personality, I unfortunately do not consider any kind of relationship with you sufficient compensation.”
“Wow, Prince, way to go on refusing me. You could have just said ‘no’.” Outside the dorm, she did a couple of stretches before setting her calorie counter on and jogging briskly to the university’s main road. It was that time of the month again, and Bobby Granger would kill her if she didn’t show up for club work.
Gabriel laughed. “Apologies. You bring out the worst in me, I’m afraid.”
“Flattered,” she snarled.
Still laughing, the prince said, “Well, if you believe it will help, then I agree. I’ll pretend to be the one you’re talking to and say whatever else you want me to say, provided it does not result in any kind of harm that I may be—”
“Do you have to make everything sound like a contract?” she demanded.
“Actually,” the prince deadpanned, “I’ll have to fax you an agreement and I’ll need your signature before we can progress further.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.”
“May I speak of my compensation now?”
“Fine. If you’re really asshole enough to ask for it.”
“Of course, but it is quite a good bargain, so be thankful for that. Going back, I will help you any way I can, but only on one condition: that you update me regularly with how things are working out.” In a musing tone, he added, “I kinda like the idea of how all this will eventually blow up in your face.”
Lace scowled. If only she could strangle someone over the phone, the prince would be so dead right now. She said grumpily, “Deal, although…it’s probably fair for you to know: once this is all over, I’m so going to send an anonymous tip to OK and Hello. I’m gonna let them in on how you may have the whole Prince Charming image down pat, but deep inside you’re worse than…”
She paused, having just reached the booth for the Sign Language Club. Her friends were already there and she waved at them even as she thought hard about a proper analogy to use.
“I give up,” Lace said after a few moments. “You’re so evil, but I can only think of Jafar, and I don’t think he’s evil enough.”
Gabriel’s tone was sardonic as he suggested, “Rasputin perhaps?”
With the prince, it was often like they were talking in two different languages. “Is that a Dutch version for Rumpelstiltskin?”
The prince barked out a laugh. “You, Lace Wyndham, are priceless. I wonder if this quality of yours is what makes Silver March so unfathomably enamoured with you.”
“Shut up with the big words. I’m not impressed.”
“How about good old-fashioned manners?” His tone became humble. “You are most welcome, Lace.”
Reddening, she muttered, “Thank you.” God, it was so hard to say that. “I appreciate it.” Even harder. “So there. Gratitude properly expressed. Bye, your royal asshole.” Now, that was easy.
Lace ended the call, grinning at the thought of the prince cursing her now.
Aria had her board up when Lace turned her way. WAS THAT SILVER?
Lace shook her head. “Nope. Another guy.”
Aria feigned disapproving shock. “Adulteress.”
“Shut up. I’m not even married and it was not like that.”
“What’s not like that?” KC asked as she rejoined them and handed Lace her own set of handcrafted bookmarks. It was overpriced at $5 a piece, but since it was also for charity, with proceeds donated to deaf-oriented non-profit organizations, Lace figured no one would mind.
Aria pointed to Lace. “She has another…guy.”
Lace wanted to strangle the older girl. “Will you stop it with that?”
KC, meanwhile, was looking at her with great interest. “Oh, I didn’t see that coming.” She nodded understandingly, as if having an internal conversation. “The reverse plot thickens!” She brightened. “Yay!”
Lace raised a brow at Aria, wondering if the other could translate what KC had just said. Aria shrugged. “Beats…me.”
Turning to KC, she said with a sigh, “I don’t get you at all.”
“Sorry,” KC apologized sheepishly. “A reverse harem is a sub-genre, basically, where the heroine’s surrounded by a lot of bishounen—”
Aria’s white board went up. WHAT?
“Hot guys,” Lace clarified. This she already knew even as far back in high school since it was what KC was most obsessed about.
KC nodded approvingly as she continued, “—and most times, these men have romantic feelings for the heroine. An example of this would be—”
“I already get it,” Lace said quickly. She must absolutely not allow KC to get started on giving out recommendations. Once her friend started, she could talk all day long about it.
KC was visibly disappointed. “B-but—”
“No.” When KC opened her mouth, Lace frowned. “No. And just to be clear,” Lace grumbled, “my life is not like your manga…” She had to stop talking when a couple of guys came to them and began asking about the bookmarks. Seeing that they were just all about flirting, she said baldly, “Only the green-eyed redhead isn’t taken.”
“Lace!” KC protested, the said green-eyed redhead looking especially becoming today with her long-sleeved blouse and sheer-paneled skirt.
“If you buy all of my bookmarks,” Lace promised, “I’m going to give you her number.”
“We’ll take it,” the boys agreed in a chorus.
“Mission accomplished,” Lace said fifteen minutes later and a hundred dollars richer.
KC was red-faced with embarrassment. “That was so…”
“Relax, KC. It was just your number, not your virginity.”
KC blushed even harder.
Lace grinned. “How can you draw such smutty manga and still blush when I just say the V-word?”
KC wailed, “I don’t know.”
Aria pointed out, “You’re bullying her.” A rare smile flashed on Aria’s face. “I approve.”
Lace burst into laughter.
“If you keep this up,” KC threatened, “I won’t tell you about what reverse harem heroines normally have problems with.”
Lace gasped. “You’re actually blackmailing me?” She still didn’t believe her life was a manga, but…it didn’t hurt to know those things, right? “Tell me,” she demanded. “I’m your best friend!”
“No more selling my number,” KC said severely.
Lace hesitated. She still had another twenty to sell tomorrow…
“The first step to solving a problem is identifying the problem,” KC hinted.
Lace grimaced. “Oh, fine, it’s a deal. So tell me.”
Grinning, KC began, “Well, most of the time, problems arise because the heroine is usually dense…”
Ouch. She could name more than a few examples when she had been particularly dense, emotions-wise.
“They also tend to take their heroes for granted…”
Ouch.
“Which is why,” KC ended, “at least one breakup takes place—”
“But that’s not going to happen to me, right?” Lace asked even as she did her best to keep the worry out of her voice. “Because we already broke up.”
“At least one breakup.” KC frowned. “But…why should you care? Aren’t you guys okay now?”
Lace couldn’t make herself say it.
“Yes.” And so the lying had started again.
God help her.
Really. I mean it, God. Help. Me.
Aria was the last to sell all her bookmarks, but she had the easiest time, too. At about lunchtime, a couple of bikers from the Afxisi came, ordered by Kellion to sell the bookmarks on behalf of the President’s girlfriend.
“Cheater,” Lac
e teased.
Aria reddened. “I would have refused…” She gritted her teeth in frustration. “But those are…r-rookies. They’re just going to be…punished if I d-don’t…l-let them…do it.” Aria scowled. “Kellion’s going to…pay for that.”
Parting ways at the intersection, with Aria riding off with Kellion on his big bike, Lace and KC were left alone. “Hey, Lace?”
“Yeah?”
“You know we – Aria and I – are here for you, right?” She bit her lip. “I mean, you helped me so many times with Yuki.” Her voice gentled. “You can depend on us, okay? I just wanted you to remember that. I mean, you can still be strong even when you’re asking for help.”
Lace mulled over the words as she did push-ups with the rest of her boys. Ask for help. Oh, how easy it sounded but for Lace, she would rather swallow a pack of nails.
…98, 99, 100.
Jumping to her feet along with the others, she called out, “Ten laps, beginning now.” She blew her whistle. The boys started off, Ivan leading his team.
Inside her pocket, her phone buzzed. It was Grant again, and she promptly deleted his message. It went on and on, until—
Her phone rang, making Lace jump because it was Silver’s ringtone. “Hey, March.” She tried to sound cool, but she knew she sounded more wistful. Yuck.
“Wyndham.”
Lace wanted to jump for joy at the sound of her name on his lips. He no longer sounded angry, which gave her the courage to consider apologizing first. Taking a deep breath, she started to talk, only to have herself cut off by the sound of an incoming text.
“Who is it?” Silver asked.
“Gabriel,” Lace lied.
“You mean, Gabe?”
“Umm, yeah, Gabe.”
His voice cooled. “Then that means he’s calling long-distance. I should put the phone down—”
“He’s a prince,” she said desperately. “He can afford to call—”
“Please.” Silver’s voice was so cold now it could have made snow happen in Miami. “Don’t mind me. We can talk anytime.” Silver paused. “Although I do have to leave for New York tomorrow morning. I’ll probably be there for a week.”
There was a long pause, and Lace held her breath.
Ask me.
Ask me.
Ask me!
But more seconds passed, and it became painfully obvious that he was not going to do what he usually did – ask her to stay over at his place so they could spend one last night together before he left.
Did he not…miss her anymore? Did he even…love her? Did he…have a girl with him right now?
Suddenly, Lace remembered Annie Lawrence’s rather sordid stories about him, which the older woman had been overly eager to tell her every time she managed to be alone with Lace.
Then, she hadn’t cared at all. What was past was past, but…if Silver had been a playboy once, wouldn’t he have an easy time playing around now? Especially since they were fighting and he was travelling all the time?
“I can see your mind’s already miles away.” Silver’s voice was stiff. “I apologize for boring you. I suppose you and the prince have more fascinating stuff to talk about.”
Lace didn’t know what to do. Rather, she knew what she could do, but her pride forbade it.
“Goodbye then.”
Swallowing, she forced herself to say in an extremely bright voice, “Goodbye.”
When the call ended, she let out a scream, the loudest possible—
“What the hell, Coach?” Her boys were looking at her like she was in danger of demonic possession.
Oh my God, she had forgotten she wasn’t alone.
It was all Silver March’s fault. Everything was his fault. And if they ended up breaking up…
Well, that would be her fault—
“What the fuck, Coach? Are you crying?”
Bad Luck
Bang, bang, bang. Lace banged her hand against the locker room’s metal door as hard as she could to ensure everyone inside heard her.
That should be warning enough, Lace decided. Closing her eyes, she pushed the doors open, announcing, “We have to talk, you guys.”
Everyone cursed her as the metal doors swung shut behind Lace.
“The fuck, Coach!”
“This is harrassment!”
Since she still had her eyes closed, she could only guess that her boys had probably just come out of the shower and were in various states of undress. “It’s no big deal,” she assured them. “I have my eyes closed, and it’s not like I want to see any of your weenies.”
More curses.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m serious. This day is not going to end until we have this talk. We have to—”
“What you have to do,” Alexio cut her off, “is to get the hell out of here.”
“No. I want this shit over with right now.” She paused. “So, are you all decent now?”
Another round of curses.
She threw her hands up. “Why is it taking so damn long? You’re worse than girls—”
This time, everyone was so incensed Lace became the recipient of everyone’s Greek curses.
Lace wasn’t bothered. Rather, she was ecstatic. It had been five days since that time. Five days since they saw her not acting like a coach, five days since they started acting like they were walking on eggshells when she was around.
But that was going to fucking stop today, Lace thought.
While she did appreciate her boys’ concern, she was also sick of it. Them being nice only made her feel more fatalistic, like an official breakup with Silver was just around the corner. Obviously, she didn’t want that. What she did want was to have her normal life back, which meant her boys being pigheaded, egoistic jerks and Silver being the only man in her life to indulge her whims.
Every time they were nice to her, it just made Lace miss him more, miss Silver being nice to her—
Oh fuck, stop this whining, Lace Wyndham. You’re stronger than this.
“All good now, Coach,” Ivan said.
When Lace opened her eyes, everyone was indeed dressed and staring at her. Normally, their faces were open books but right now, she couldn’t tell what any one of them was thinking, which made her nervous.
“So…” She cleared her throat, buying herself some time.
“Is this about you getting dumped, Coach?” Alexio asked bluntly.
Lace froze.
Everyone erupted in Greek as they threw their water bottles and towels at the team’s power forward.
“What?” Alexio burst out defensively but with a telltale flush on his cheeks. “I was doing her a favor since she couldn’t seem to tell us the truth—”
“It’s okay,” Lace said loudly. It was pointless to blame Alexio for being his usual blunt self. He had always been like that, and it was the number one reason he often got into foul trouble even before the first quarter ended.
When her boys turned to her, she beamed at them. “See? I’m okay.”
Silence.
Finally, Ivan said, “You’re a bad liar, Coach.”
She glared. "I’m not lying. I’m okay. I’m fine. And,” she added fiercely, “we did not break up.” She glared at them harder, daring any one of them to say otherwise.
And they did not.
They did not.
She had her Google Alerts sending her all news concerning Silver March and so far, not one article had claimed him to be free.
So…they had not broken up.
Right?
Lace was badly tempted to sit on the floor and cry. How pathetic was this? She was Silver March’s girlfriend, and she was reduced to relying on the Internet to find out if they had broken up or not.
Around her, the whole team still appeared unconvinced.
“Stop worrying about me, okay? I’m okay. Got that?” No one answered. “Do I have to remind you guys I’m the one you trusted to take you all the way to the championship?” Lace snapped.
More silence before Ivan clarified, “If you haven’t broken up then…you got into a serious fight with Silver March? You’re on the brink of breaking up then? Would that be more accurate?”
Lace hesitated. If she didn’t say yes, would it make her problems less…real?
Finally, she shook her head. “No. We’re not on the verge of breaking up.”
Her boys looked at each other. “Definitely about to break up,” Vasyl said.
Lace’s eyes widened. “Did you not hear what I said?”
“Yeah, she has that look on her face, like the time she told us we could all be the next Michael Jordan.” Drew rolled his eyes.
Lace colored. “I was just trying to motivate you all—”
“Coach.” Damian speaking was such a rare occurrence it made everyone shut up.
“What is it?”
His voice too gentle for a six-foot-seven ex-MMA fighter, Damian said, “We’re on to you. You don’t have to tell us. We know it. And…” Damian paused, an awkward look falling over his face. “If it means anything, we all think this is gonna pass. Silver March’s so head over heels in love with you, it’s not funny—”
Alexio muttered, “Damn strange if you asked me—oww.”
Damian came forward and patted Lace on the back, strong enough to almost send her flying. “Don’t worry about it, Coach,” he said gruffly. “He’ll come back to you.”
Slowly, Lace covered her face.
Oh, God.
She was going to cry again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice muffled. “Sorry for bringing my personal shit to the floor.”
A pat on the head. “You’re not perfect, Coach.” Vasyl’s voice was reasonable and mature beyond his years. “You tell us that all the time, but you can’t seem to remember it applies to you, too.”
Oh, God. She really was going to cry, and Lace wailed, “I don’t want to cry.” She pressed her hands harder to her face.
She knew…she knew she could just talk about it now. Tell them what was happening. Ask them for help. But she couldn’t. And this time, it wasn’t just because she was too proud, like the prince said.
This time, it was because she knew Silver would be even more hurt if he found out she had trusted other people over him to help her.
“I’ve been such a bitch to him.” She said it out loud, the words her way of punishing herself. When no one denied it, she felt even worse.