Cracked Kingdom

  Beside me, Easton grumbles about how he should’ve never brought me here, but I know he’s teasing. He woke me up in the best possible way and announced, even before we got out of bed, that it was already the most lit morning of his life. It was definitely the most active morning of mine.

  And last night was… I can’t even put it into words. Easton was so gentle and so amazing and… My cheeks heat up as I remember how slow he’d gone, how patient he’d been with me. Considering his reputation for being a bit of a slut, a part of me thought he’d be all about himself, but he hadn’t been selfish at all. He’d been…amazing. My cheeks get even hotter.

  We totally need to get a bed at the apartment and a big one at that. And I wonder if there are sheets that don’t pull away from the bed? That would be nice.

  Ella sighs, a long despondent gust of air that has us all turning toward her.

  “What?” Easton asks.

  This time I’m the target of the pointing spoon. “I recognize that morning blissed-out look. That used to be my look,” she complains. “Thank God stupid football season is almost over and I’ll get to spend some decent time with Reed.”

  Across the table, Sawyer pushes his bowl away. “Can we talk about something other than the two of you screwing my brothers?”

  I turn scarlet and stammer, “We—I—there was—we didn’t.”

  Easton reaches over and whacks his brother across the top of his head. “Shut up, you’re embarrassing Hartley.”

  “What about me,” Ella says in an aggrieved tone.

  “Since when do you get embarrassed?” He pats her on the head, gets up and drops a kiss on the top of mine. “We better get going. Ella drives like a ninety-year-old grandma, so if we don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”

  “I drive the speed limit,” she protests.

  “Like I said, grandma style.”

  Ella tries to hit him but Easton easily slides out of reach. The two chase each other around the kitchen as Sawyer and I watch from the table. Someday, Dylan and I are going to be like that with each other—comfortable and happy and loving.

  I take the moment of privacy to turn to Sawyer. “I don’t know if this will piss you off, but I’m sorry about the accident and your brother.”

  He drops his gaze to his nearly empty bowl and stirs the spoon aimlessly. I don’t know what thoughts are buzzing through his head until he raises a pained gaze to meet mine. “It wasn’t your fault and we both know it,” he says in a low, resigned tone. “We were driving too fast. We were…distracted by shit going on in the Rover, so don’t apologize anymore. Seb will come around. We’ve just been dealing with a lot of…stuff,” he finishes.

  I wonder what stuff means, but I feel like it’s not my place to ask. I’m just relieved that he feels that way. I don’t want Easton to be alienated from his family over me.

  “You done?” I tip my head toward his bowl. “I’ll take it to the sink with me.”

  He nods and pushes it my way. He flicks an unhappy glance toward the doorway, probably waiting for his brother—who is likely waiting for me to leave before coming out. I hope he’s right and that Sebastian does come around, because this love between East and me is so new that it wouldn’t take much to snuff it out completely.

  On the way to school, I lean against the headrest and listen as Easton and Ella chatter on the way to school about Thanksgiving and the Christmas holiday and how they both hope that State does terrible in its last few games so that Reed doesn’t go to a Bowl game. Easton says they should go to Aspen, and Ella wants to go somewhere warm.

  “It’s the winter,” she tells him as she drives about five miles per hour under the speed limit. “And in the winter, people go to warm places.”

  “No, in the winter, you go to snowy places because snow only exists for a short amount of time, whereas there is always someplace warm in the world,” he counters.

  “There is always snow at Everest,” Ella proclaims.

  “You can’t ski at Everest.” He twists in the seat. “Babe, back me up here.”

  I flip one eye open. “Can’t you ski year-round in Dubai? I think I read that once.”

  “This is what you remember?” he says in a wounded voice. “You’re supposed to be on my side. Make up shit that backs me up.”

  “Can’t. Sister solidarity and all.”

  Ella raises a fist in acknowledgment.

  “Sister what?” East exclaims. “What about this morning when I had my tongue in your—”

  I fly forward and slap a hand over his mouth. He licks the center of my palm. I yelp and fall back.

  “—in your mouth,” he finishes, a wicked glint in his eye. “What did you think I was going to say?”

  “Nothing. You were going to say nothing.” I glare at him, but inside, my heart is doing little jumping jacks of happiness. I loved every single thing Easton and I did last night. And…yeah…I have zero complaints about his tongue.

  “And we’re here. Saved by the Astor Park bell,” Ella announces as she turns into the school parking lot.

  I’m not sure who was saved—Easton or me.

  As the three of us walk up the wide sidewalk leading to the main building, the stares we receive are comical. Jaws drop, people stop walking, conversations abruptly cease. If eyes could fall out, the concrete would be littered with them.

  East stops in the middle of the sidewalk, just below the stairs, and turns to face a stunned student body. I want to keep going inside, but his strong arm around my waist prevents me from escaping.

  “Because I’m a helpful, giving man, I’m going to answer some questions for y’all before classes start so you can concentrate on your shit inside, instead of spending the class period making up your own stories. Yes, Hartley and I are together. Yes, my family is okay with that.” He taps Ella, who nods. “Yes, Hartley still has amnesia and yes, I will beat the shit out of anyone who even makes her frown. If you make her cry, you’ll have so many broken bones that it’ll take an entire fleet of Chinese steel to put you back together.”

  He says all of this with a huge smile and a conversational tone, which is probably why it sounds chilling.

  “Any questions?” he hollers.

  The silence is deafening. Easton smiles wider, claps his hands together and says, “All right, then. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. See you inside.”

  He turns and urges Ella and me inside.

  “Was that necessary?” I’m torn between embarrassment at what happened and embarrassment at myself for enjoying it so much.

  “It was necessary,” Ella answers for him. “Especially when Seb shows up. We want to show a united front. Last year, the Royals were kind of shambling around like zombies and the school went nuts. There was so much awful bullying going on until we stood up together as a team. It’s always better for the sharks at Astor to know that the Royals will stick up for each other. Anyway, I’ll see you at lunch.”

  She waves and jogs off, falling in beside a brunette who immediately hugs her.

  “That’s Val, Ella’s best friend. You met her once before at the pier,” East murmurs in my ear. “And that’s Claire, my ex-girlfriend.” He points discreetly to a delicate, doll-like girl looking in our direction with sad eyes. “I’m only pointing people out so that you won’t be surprised. Let’s see. You should meet Pash. He’s my best friend outside my family.” He looks around.

  He does these things all the time—these off-hand, seemingly unimportant gestures that turn my insides to mush. A few minutes ago he announced his intention to throw the massive Royal mantle over my shoulders, and now he’s anxious to share the smallest part of his life with me. He doesn’t want me to feel left out.

  I thread my fingers through the ones that are dangling over my shoulder. “I can meet him later. Tomorrow. We have class now.”

  He smiles at me, warming me from the inside out. My own personal sun.

  The morning goes smoothly. Easton is in all of my classes. He admits that it was not a coincidenc
e but that he finagled his way into them. I don’t mind. It’s nice not being isolated. There are plenty of stares in our direction, but East’s big frame is a formidable shield.

  When we go to lunch, he steers me away from the corner. “There are bugs there, remember?”

  “Oh, right. Bran told me.”

  He scowls. “I told you, too, before Bran.”

  I turn to hide a smile. His little, petty jealousies are adorable. “Bran’s a nice guy. You could be friends with him.”

  “I was friends with him until he tried to trespass on my territory,” East mutters under his breath as he offers his ID card to the cashier.

  “Your what?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

  “Our territory?” he counters in an effort to save himself.

  I hand my cash over. “I don’t think that’s much better.”

  He pushes my hand down and gives the cashier his card.

  “You can’t swipe it twice,” I remind him.

  “Since when?” He points to the cashier. “Swipe it.”

  “Um…” The guy bites his lower lip. “We’re not supposed to.”

  “Swipe it,” East repeats, quiet but firm.

  The cashier does as he’s told, the transaction goes through, and we pick up our trays so the next student can be checked out.

  “They wouldn’t do that before,” I tell East, omitting the detail that it was Bran who had offered previously.

  “It’s a stupid rule that no one enforces. They get paid, so what’s the big deal.” He stops at the table near the floor-to-ceiling plate glass window overlooking an athletic field. Ella and her friend Val are seated, as are the twins. Now that the two are together, it’s harder to tell which one is Sebastian and which one is Sawyer, but I guess that the scowling face belongs to Sebastian while the pained one is his twin’s.

  I give them both a nod and a quiet hello. Sebastian pretends to gag when I sit down. It’s awkward and uncomfortable for everyone, but I don’t know if leaving would cause a bigger scene than staying.

  My dilemma is momentarily interrupted by a drama playing out two tables away. My old pal, Kyle, stands next to the table where Felicity is seated with her squad. He has a tray in his hand and it’s evident he wants to join them. It’s equally obvious that Felicity doesn’t want that. She places her purse on the empty space beside her tray.

  “This is taken,” she says.

  “By who?” he challenges. “The seat’s been empty for the last five minutes. Besides, you said I could join you.”

  “You must be kidding,” she says in a loud voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a sneed. We don’t with sit with sneeds.”

  “Sneed?” I whisper to East.

  “Needs-based student,” he murmurs in my ear. “He must have a scholarship or something.”

  “That’s a ridiculous sounding insult. Like she stole that from Dr. Seuss or something,” I hiss back.

  He shrugs. “She’s got money. She doesn’t need to be smart or clever.”

  Over by Felicity, Kyle is turning deep red. My secondhand embarrassment meter is at an all-time high. I hate the dude for feeding me a bunch of lies, but this kind of school humiliation is awful.

  “That’s not what you said before.”

  “You must be joking. I would never invite a casual like you to eat lunch with my girls. Doesn’t your father fix cars for a living? What if there’s grease on your hands? Do you know how much Skylar’s mom paid for that blazer? It’s not the cheap synthetic that you’re wearing. Skylar’s is made out of virgin wool from a village in Spain. You’d have to fix like a million cars to be able to even have the right to breathe on that wool, so just”—she makes a shooing gesture—“go.”

  It’s so rude that I gasp. I tense and start to rise to my feet. Easton grabs my right hand and Ella grabs my left. Together they hold me in my seat.

  “This isn’t your fight,” East warns. “Those two have issues to work out and none of them have anything to do with you.”

  “He’s right. There’s a time to fight and this isn’t one of them.”

  Any other day, I might have listened to their warnings. But as Kyle stomps out of the dining hall, something about the satisfied smirk that curls Felicity’s lips triggers my temper. I shrug Easton and Ella’s hands off and shoot to my feet.

  “No,” I tell them. “She can’t keep getting away with this shit.”

  Before they can offer more objections, I march up to Felicity’s table. She’s about to take a sip from some fancy soda bottle with a label written entirely in French. Of course she drinks imported soda. Of course she does.

  Gritting my teeth, I snatch the bottle out of her hand. She screeches in outrage, and her eyes blaze when she realizes I’m the culprit.

  “What the hell! Give that back!” Her arm thrusts out angrily.

  I hold the soda out of her reach. “What gives you the right to treat people like that?” I growl.

  She blinks in confusion. Seriously? Has she actually forgotten what she just did to Kyle?

  “Kyle?” I prompt. “How dare you treat him like he’s a piece of garbage under your shoe?”

  Understanding dawns on her face. Then she bursts out in gales of high-pitched laughter. “Are you serious right now, Wright? What do you care how I treat that loser? Do you realize how easy it was to get him to agree to mess with your poor broken head?” She laughs again. “Cost me less than I pay my drycleaner to take care of my uniform.” She gestures to her white shirt and pristine blazer.

  “You mean this uniform?” With a big smile, I tip the bottle and pour it all over Felicity.

  There’s one long beat of silence.

  Then I hear Easton’s familiar chuckle.

  And Felicity’s horrified shriek slices through the lunchroom. Another scream quickly follows, this one from her friend Skylar, who ends up being collateral damage. Some of the fizzy red liquid has splashed her magical virgin-wool-from-Spain blazer, and she claws at the lapels, tears filling her eyes.

  “My blazer!” Skylar wails.

  “You fucking bitch!” Clothing stained red and soaking wet, Felicity jumps to her feet, her hand flying out in an attempt to slap me. But it doesn’t reach my face, because there’s soda all over the floor now, and her designer pumps slip on the puddle.

  She goes toppling forward and lands face-first on the shiny floor.

  Laughter breaks out in the cavernous room as everyone watches her try to get up, but to no avail. She’s slipping all over the place, getting up and flopping back down, like some ridiculous comedy act.

  I give the gathering crowd a murderous glare and hold up my hand to silence the laughter. My intention wasn’t to embarrass Felicity or make everyone laugh at her. That would be no better than what she did to Kyle, who I don’t even like! But a point needed to be made.

  “You are not better than us, any of us,” I snap at her. “Just because your family can buy and sell mine a hundred times over, just because you and your stupid friends aren’t here on scholarships and have seven-figure trust funds, doesn’t make you better than anyone. And it doesn’t give you the right to humiliate people, or use them, or ‘mess with their heads.’” Anger bubbles in my throat. “I swear to God, Felicity—if I ever see you pulling that cruel, superiority shit on anyone ever again, I’ll do a lot more than spill a drink on you.” I give her a menacing glower. “I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

  There’s a familiar snicker. Dammit, Easton, I’m in the middle of my tough girl act here.

  He must sense my irritation, because he steps forward and says, “Remember when Ella dragged Jordan Carrington by hair through the school?” He beams at Felicity. “Well, Hart will do twice that damage.”

  “Damn straight,” I confirm.

  Felicity finally manages to stand up, but she’s still wobbling precariously on her heels. She glares at me, then at Easton, Ella, her own friends, and everyone else that’s looking her way with unrestrained laughter.

  She opens her mouth
as if to say something, but then she wisely slams it shut, brushes past me, and flies out of the room.

  “Holy shit,” Ella’s friend Val says once Felicity is gone. “That was badass, Hartley!” She holds up a hand for a high-five.

  I slap her palm, a blush creeping into my cheeks as other students come up to high-five me or gush about how awesome that was.

  There’s one person, however, who doesn’t seem at all impressed by what I’ve done.

  “Gee, she spilled something on some bitch,” Sebastian Royal says mockingly. “What a hero!”

  “Seb,” Sawyer cautions.

  “No.” The angry twin slices his hand through the air. “Who gives a shit that she told Felicity off? I can’t believe I even have to be around this bitch. It was bad enough that I came down to breakfast in my own house and she was sitting at my table like she didn’t ram her car into the side of my Rover, nearly killing me, my brother, and our girlfriend—“

  “Ex,” Sawyer cuts in.

  Sebastian ignores him. “—girlfriend who doesn’t even talk to us anymore. But now she sits at the family table at Astor Park, too? And she gets treated like some kind of hero? Don’t you guys even give a shit that I was in a fucking coma because of her?”

  “Seb, man, don’t be like this,” Sawyer pleads.

  “I see you’ve turned into a pussy since the accident,” his twin sneers. “I’m telling you, either you get rid of this bitch or you’ll be rid of me.” He jerks out of his chair and storms out of the lunchroom.

  “He doesn’t mean it.” East turns to me, brushing a hand down my back.

  A prickle of uneasiness follows the path of his palm. It doesn’t feel right to accept comfort from him. I don’t deserve this.

  “I—I have to use the restroom.” I jump to my feet.

  “Wait, Hart—”

  “Let her go,” I hear Ella say to him.

  As the third person to run out of the lunchroom in as many minutes, I’m sure I look ridiculous, but sitting in there with guilt pressing me into the tiles was worse. I don’t know how I can make it right to Sebastian, but I can at least start with an apology. I gave one to Sawyer this morning, but I’ve never been able to offer one to his twin. Words aren’t much, but they can be a start.