They The Pretty Stars (Court High 1)

Mr. Prinze gave him the floor, nodding like he led the class instead of the teacher. What was laughable was Mr. Pool actually let him do that before going to the board and bullet-pointing today’s lesson.

I pulled my English book out of my bag. “I just saw that guy,” I whispered, getting Birdie’s attention. Mr. Pool’s back was still to us, and Birdie turned, looking to the back of the room before facing me.

“Royal?” she asked. “What was he doing?”

That guy’s name would be Royal Prinze. His parents were probably pretty damn impressed with themselves too. It all seemed fitting, though, considering the way this boy owned second period English.

Lowering, I explained to Birdie quickly what I saw in the boathouse. Mr. Pool was still busy at the board, and once my story concluded, Birdie did nothing but smirk.

She lowered too. “I’m not surprised, but I’m sure you know all about that, him.”

“If you’d all turn to page ninety-seven, and we’ll begin our look into the Renaissance period. December, I’ll touch base to see where you are in your studies later, but don’t be afraid to let me know while we work today if you’re lost or anything, all right?”

The attention on me, I pulled away from Birdie and what she said. Giving Mr. Pool a wave, I told him I would, and he gratefully moved on but not without me catching the eye of a certain green-eyed blond. He had his legs crossed, thick and muscular, in my direction. Pen to his lips, he flicked at it with a finger, making a silver ring flash on his right hand.

“Why would I know about him?” I asked, purposely severing his connection with me and talking to Birdie.

She frowned in my direction. “Royal Prinze?” she questioned, to which I shrugged. She tilted her head. “He’s only your sister’s best friend.”

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Checking in

Hey,

I started at Windsor Prep today. First day not bad and Dad sent me off. You mentioned Hubert, but did he take you to school every day? It makes me feel like you were some type of secret Bruce Wayne or something and failed to tell me about it. Speaking of, do you know someone named Royal Prinze? A girl at school told me you were one of his friends, but I find that hard to believe. He’s nothing like you, extremely cocky, and he walks around the school like he owns the place. I also caught him in your school’s boathouse messing around with some girl. Do you know this guy? I was told he was your best friend…

Anyway, I miss you, loser. I get it if you need space, but didn’t we always say we can talk to each other? I feel like something more is going on here considering the way you ran off and your text messages at the beginning of the summer. I wish you’d just talk to me. You know I’m here, right? I’m not going anywhere, and expect these emails a lot. I won’t stop sending them, and I’m not leaving this town until you come back. I owe you. I always will.

Em

June 10th

5:08 p.m.

December: Why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?

Paige: I’ve been busy, Em. What do you need?

December: You. You’ve been acting super weird lately. Going MIA. Is it Dad? What’s going on?

10:06 p.m.

December: Hello?

Paige: Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just been busy, okay?

December: Okay.

Paige: I need you to not do this. I need space with senior year coming up and everything. Everything’s cool. Just let me breathe.

Three

The second half of the week at Windsor Prep resembled the first: lots of schoolwork I wasn’t academically prepared for in an environment I slowly mucked my way through. The only difference was, I pored over past texts with my sister instead of eating lunch today. I found myself reading even more just to hear her voice in my head.

I need space…