Leaving another person behind in my life should have made the hole in my gut grow wider. But … it didn’t. The weight was finally lifted, the expectations and pressure and false realities taken off of my shoulders.
I didn’t have a clue where to go from here, or how to do anything when I’d been brought up in a world where every single thing was taken care of for me. But I’d figure it out. It was about time.
And I was ready.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Asher
“Mate, just go talk to her.” Drake unwraps the protein bar he’s holding and chomps off a bite.
I stare down and across the hall, catching a glimpse of burnt orange hair buried in her locker.
None of my friends know what happened, but they know that all communication between Nora and I has stopped.
“I can’t, it won’t make any difference. Just drop it.” I place my textbooks in my locker, eager for this school year to be over.
Not that I know fully what I’m doing next year. Sure, I still have my Oxford acceptance, and I could attend and be privy to the same college experience every Frederick has gotten for generations. I could continue to live the cushy life that’s been provided, and stay close to London.
But, I was trying something new. Or at least I was struggling to. Opening my trust fund was never something I thought I would have to do. The large nest egg of money was going to be gone eventually, sometime in the distant future, and then I’d be on my own. It was both terrifying and exhilarating.
“Fine, just hate to see my girl so upset. She won’t even joke around with me anymore.” I had noticed that she wasn’t really speaking to any one in our group anymore, save for Eloise. “So when do I get to see your bachelor pad? I can’t believe you went out and bought a bloody flat!”
My flat was nothing to brag about, a small one bedroom in the quiet neighborhood of Chelsea. It was clean, updated with nice furnishings, and best of all … it was all mine. I’d used a sizable portion of my trust fund on it, but at least I knew I would always have a home in the city I’d grown up in if it came to it.
“Soon … maybe. I’m actually enjoying being alone, and I don’t need you wankers coming in and mucking the place up.”
“Alone? Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t had some fit birds coming over to your solo place, shagging ‘em like crazy?!” His eyes speak volumes, telling me I must be crazy.
“You wouldn’t get it.” I close my locker, the bell ringing and the hallways emptying out.
“Jeez, mate, sorry. I get it, I’m proud of you … I know your dad isn’t the easiest of guys.”
His eyes speak something else, and I wonder if my friends know more than they let on about my home life.
Glancing down the hall, I see that Nora is dragging behind everyone. “I’ll catch you later, mate.”
I don’t wait for his goodbye, but instead start quickly toward her. In the months since that dinner, I’ve seen her at school almost every day. At first I acted cold, wanting my message from the dinner to sink in. I wanted them to hurt … but those feelings vanished very quickly. About five days after I’d spewed all of that hate in their home, I came face to face with Nora in the hall.
And in her eyes, I’d seen all of the damage I’d done. The hurt, the rejection, the betrayal. That look she gave me spoke louder than words ever could have, and I felt repulsive.
I didn’t expect her to ever talk to me, let alone look at me, again … but I had to try. I couldn’t continue to sit in this despair, and even if she never accepted my apology, I had to make it.
The hall was empty, and she seemed to be engrossed in something in her locker.
“Hi.” Smooth opening, Asher.
She looks up slowly, knowing my voice. Her eyes don’t shine like they used to, at least not for me. She doesn’t talk, but shuts her locker and turns like she might bolt.
I step in front of her. “Please, Nora … let me explain.”
My tone is desperate, and maybe that sparks something inside of her. “I don’t know what more you could possibly say to me.”
“You don’t … there is so much more to it all. Could we just talk somewhere?” I wanted so badly to just reach out and touch her.
I ached for her when I was alone, and pretty much all the time. I missed her conversation, her odd observations, even her shy naïveté. I missed the words she used, so complicated and sophisticated that I couldn’t do anything but laugh. I missed the way she chewed on the end of a pen when she studied, how her hair fell into her face every time she laughed, the aimless conversations we had over coffee for her and tea for me. But when I was here, standing in front of her, the ache grew into a massive throb of need. I’d wasted so much time, spent hours and minutes plotting against her when I should have been caring for her. We had only gotten the one time in my room, and I needed more.
She tilted her head, taking my request in. “What reasons could you ever have for trying to break apart my family? To ruin my stepfather? For so long, so long Asher, you lied to me. You made me trust you. I don’t … I don’t even know what good excuse you could make to explain that.”
She was right of course, but I pleaded still. “Please, you don’t know what it was like. The home I grew up in, the propaganda I was fed.”
“I may not, but you chose to do what you did. Chose to pursue me, to sleep with me! Do you know that before you, I hadn’t opened myself up to anyone like that. And thanks to you, I probably won’t again. You’re a bad person, Asher, and how you grew up might have influenced it, but it doesn’t change how you truly are inside.”
Her words slice me, making the bleeding gash in my soul even wider. I nod, accepting that she will never allow me to explain. There is that cliché saying that if you love something, you must let it go. And as stereotypical as it was, Nora had taught me to love through a time where I should have been staying far away from her.
And now it was my turn to suffer. To let her despise me and never look my way again. It was my penance; the cross I had hung around my neck and was now forced to bear.
For her, I would do it. Just as on the first day of the school year, one of us turns on a heel and walks away from the other. But this time, it’s me.
Chapter Thirty
Nora
There is exactly one month until my high school graduation, and it cannot come fast enough.
When I’d lived in Pennsylvania, I couldn’t wait to get out. I’d daydream about grabbing my diploma on the school football field and sprinting for the closest bus station or airport. But now … I couldn’t wait to go home. To land my two feet on some Philadelphia soil and breathe in that polluted air that everyone in London makes fun of.
It’s been a ball exploring Europe, but they, whoever they are, weren’t lying when they said there is no place like home. I know I will come back here, but the last three hundred days or so have been a whirlwind, and I need a break.
There is also the tricky matter of seeing Asher and all of his friends every single day, even though for the most part, they’ve forgotten about me. Only Eloise has kept in touch, because I actually make the effort to talk to her.
“So the royal wedding is coming, yeah? Must be fucking brilliant to have the best of the best waiting on you hand and foot. I hear Mendoza is designing your mother’s dress … is it bloody amazing?”
I smile, not letting anything slip. “You know I can’t deny or confirm any of that, Eloise.”
She points a salad-clad fork at me, our table in the corner of the lunchroom kind of out of the way of the popular crowd that congregated in the middle. “And here I thought we were mates.”
For some reason, she still kept trying to get me to open up to her, even if I wasn’t going on the group’s international party trips or sneaking into closets at royal functions. Maybe she wanted the inside information, but I tried not to let what Asher did to me cloud my judgment. I chose to believe that since she’d come from a similar background, she commiserated with my
position. And maybe it was a little easier hanging out with someone cut from the same cloth.
I watch her, the diamond studs in her ears sparkling. Around the room, girls and boys lean the most expensive leather bags against chairs on the ground, their Rolex watches and Cartier jewelry gleaming. Shoes the price of a small country are laced on their feet, the meals they consume some of the finest food in the world … not to mention that of a high school cafeteria.
Me? I’m still rocking the plain Winston uniform, pearl studs from Forever 21 in my ears. My nails are bare, the cuticles shredded from where I’ve been biting them. Almost a year in this world, and it really hadn’t jaded me as I’d feared, and some had hoped, it would. In part, I had to thank Asher. He’d shown me just how cruel and harsh this world could be, just like he’d promised he would at the beginning, and I’d grown from his betrayal. Now I was ready to go back to the real world.
“We are, which is why I will save you a dance with me at the wedding.” I planned on letting loose after the ceremony.
With all of the pent-up stress and double the paparazzi following us around at all times, I was ready for the day to be here. I think Mom was too, but that was mostly because she just couldn’t wait to be married to Bennett. It was truly inspiring the way they’d forged together after that dinner with Asher. It was also why I could remain mostly positive about being vulnerable and opening up more to people. Sure, there were bad people out there, but there were also people worth showing your true self to. And I was holding out for those people.
“Christ, I love weddings. Free booze, dancing, single men … what more could you ask for? You can bet I’m going to find the most eligible bachelor. Unless you want him, of course. It’s your home court, so you get advantage.”
I gulp as I look down at my plate of sushi. The hardest part of losing my virginity and all of the aftermath was not being able to talk about it with anyone. I couldn’t talk to my mom about such things; not because she wouldn’t listen supportively but because it was all just too awkward. I didn’t want to talk to Eloise about having sex for the first time, because I didn’t trust that she wouldn’t laugh about it. And I also couldn’t divulge the details of Asher and I’s break up, because if any of that information ever got out my family would be ruined.
Suffering in silence is making this ten times harder, but I shut my trap. “They’re all for you, girl. I’ll be so busy running around making sure things are perfect, I won’t have time to ogle.”
She picks at a bright purple cuticle and smirks. “Not that you want to. It’s okay to admit that you’re still hung up on Frederick.”
I roll my eyes, playing it off. “It’s been months, Eloise … I’m over it. And I’m sure he is too.”
Her laugh is sardonic and teasing. “Oh, yeah right, that’s why he tracks you with his eyes every hour of the school day like some lovesick puppy.”
“He does?” It pops out of my mouth before I can stop it.
I shouldn’t care, should be able to biologically cut off the feeling. But I can’t. I still lie awake, thinking about the night that we’d connected so intensely that my whole body still flushed just recalling it. I’d never known how it would feel, how in-tune your body and your partner’s body could become.
She quirks an eyebrow. “Like you’re the poshest thing since tea time.”
There shouldn’t be a niggle of satisfaction that tingles in my heart, but there is.
“So, one month, huh? What’s your plan?” I change the subject.
She shrugs, picking at the ingredients in her salad. “The Sorbonne, so I can educate people on why food like this is terrible.”
Surprise lights my face. “Really? I didn’t know you were into cooking …”
Eloise smiles. “There are a lot of things this group doesn’t know about me, Nora. See, when you’re trying to be cool and part of the in-crowd, you hide the interesting and unique tidbits about yourself. But after Winston, I just get to be me. I get to leave here and pursue my dreams. Not everyone is eager to stay … some of us are like you, and can’t wait to get out.”
I realize that in all of the time I’ve spent with her, I haven’t genuinely tried to get to know her. And that’s sad. “I apologize, really. I should have asked sooner, or at least had you cook me a meal.”
“We still have some time. I’ll make you one of my signature dishes, and you can bring your Netflix and we can binge watch Friends. I do love me some American TV.”
I laugh, because it’s just so her. “Well, you’ll have to come visit me in Philadelphia next year then. I’ll get you a proper cheesesteak and we’ll go to a football game.”
“American football or soccer? Because you Americans are so wonky with that.”
“American football, baby … with the pads and tight pants and men tackling each other over a ball.”
She snorts. “It’s the same in our kind of football dear, but bugger if I don’t love the sport for that.”
“Have you ever been to the States?” The British endearment for it feels funny coming off my lips.
“I’ve been to New York and Los Angeles of course, but I haven’t done the whole suburban States tour. You’ll have to take me. I’ll wear jean shorts and flip-flops, and drink out of plastic cups from whatever that store is you’ve mentioned before.”
“Wawa? Ha! I’d love to see you filling a Slurpee cup, it would be so domestic of you.”
“And maybe you’ll introduce me to a cowboy, one with real boots.”
I roll my eyes. “Eloise, I’m from Pennsylvania, not the deep south of Texas. While we have farms, they don’t typically house the kind of stereotype you’re looking for.”
“Whatever. Just know that I’m driving your car on the wrong side of the road when I visit.”
Just thinking about that made me laugh. A bittersweet kind of chuckle, because while I was ready to get to college, and back to people on the same level as myself, I was also going to miss the few connections I’d made here.
Chapter Thirty-One
Nora
Having no true family, and a very small circle of people that I knew continuously while growing up, I’ve actually never attended a wedding before. So planning for my mother’s big day, while a challenge, was also kind of fun.
Pinteresting and prepping, picking out colors and dresses and centerpieces and fun personal artifacts to include in the decor … it had been a labor of love for us both. I’d seen the odd romantic comedy wedding, even watched that silly show about picking your wedding dress. I knew that some people went over the top, and that the entire industry was just a money-making machine.
But I had absolutely no clue just how out-of-this-world her wedding day would actually be.
“This is insane.” I smile through my teeth as Mom looks adoringly at the crowd.
And when I say crowd, I mean … literally every person who has ever resided in London. Women cheering and crying, wearing shirts with Mom and Bennett’s faces on them. Little kids running around with flowers, tossing them at the glass top car we’re sitting in. Men yelling about how they love my mother, and God Save the Queen. So many faces line the street, everyone clamoring for a glance at the beautiful bride.
“Just smile and wave.” Mom doesn’t look rattled in the least, her hands sitting calmly in her lap.
I can’t help but smile, feeling the infectious glow from her. All day, she’s been nothing but relaxed and joyful. Through the makeup and hair, to getting into her dress fit for a real live queen, to pictures on the grounds before we left … she never once complained of nerves or agitation. Whatever worries were there, whatever last minute details to plan, it all vanished. She was going to meet Bennett at the church, and I could tell that to her, that was all that mattered.
“Are you nervous?” I ask her for the fifth time, not able to hold it back because I’m a little shaky.
She reaches across the seat, and grasps my hand. “I’m not at all, honey. But it’s understandable if you are. It�
�s a big step, one that seals our life. But it doesn’t mean we stop being us, it will always be me and you against the world. We just … are adding Bennett too. And the three of us, we’re going to support and love each other no matter what. I promise.”
Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears, and I swallow down the lump in my throat that has formed. “I love you, Mom.”
We watch as the people blur, the long road to the church filled with loudness. When we finally pull up, the cream carpet rolled all the way to where we got out of the car door, my butterflies are at an all-time high. The noise outside the car is deafening, and people chant my mom’s name.
She gets out first, her exit graceful and noble in every action. Her hand cups, waving to the crowd like the queen-to-be she’s about to become. The megawatt smile on her face is not for show, I know it because I feel every ounce of her happiness in my bones as well.
I get out, my long light purple dress blowing in the soft spring air. Mom let me choose my dress, a tulle creation with a lace on the upper part and thick straps that lifted my boobs a little higher than they actually were. It fit me in all the right places, but was still so beautiful and just … lovely.
The crowd roars again, and I wave sheepishly. I’m not used to all of this, have forgotten the training as if my head was on fire each time I get out in front of people. I wasn’t bred for it, and it’s not super important that I learn all of the aspects as I’m leaving for college in the fall. I won’t be subjected to as much scrutiny or public outings … but I know how to behave when it’s needed of me.
“Beautiful!”
“Radiant!”
“Brilliant!”
The sidewalks gush with compliments, praise ringing out from every corner. Silently, I thank the heavens that no one is throwing any insults or questions at her. Walking over to her, I squeeze her hand before moving behind her and picking up the train of her dress. The lace is like butter beneath my fingertips, and I choke up at just how beautiful she looks.
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