Young Royals: What...now?

I'm fine. Really.

Wilhelm

As the car pulled up the familiar drive leading to Hillerska, Wilhelm's breath quickened. He was back. The three weeks he spent at home felt like both three days and three years- three days in the sense that he didn't end up working out any of his problems and three years in the sense that the days passed at an absolute snail's pace. 

He was no closer to figuring out what to do about Simon than he was when he left school.  

Wilhelm emptied the trunk of the car, taking out his suitcase and his garment bag, along with the new backpack his parents had given him for Christmas, and headed over to put his things away before dinner. 

What is tomorrow  going to bring?  he thought, as he carried his bags up to his room. 

He forced himself to put his head up and greet the others he passed by as he walked down the hall. I'm fine. It's all going to be fine. Really.

It's all going to be. just. fine.

--

Simon

Simon's mom sat him down on the couch next to him with a plate of cheesy nachos on Sunday night, the day before the break was to end. The news was showing a story about a new cultural center somewhere in Lund. Fascinating stuff. 

His mom grabbed the remote, clicked off the TV, and took a bite of her gooey nachos. "Honey, look at me. I know you said you were fine going back to Hillerska, but, you know it's not too late." She offered him a bite of her nachos. He refused. He just didn't think he could swallow it right then.

"We can put you in an online school for a semester while we work out another option. I see you, and you don't even look like you. Your head is always down, you don't have an appetite really. You just sit, in your room, playing video games. This isn't like you, mijo." 

"I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. Promise, Mom," he answered, a look of concern growing on his face. He grabbed a chip from her plate and forced it down his throat to cover up the worry emanating from him.

"No estoy segura, I just want you to be happy, you know that, right?" She pulled her legs up onto the couch and crossed them, her knee overlapping his.

"I know, Mom. I know," he responded, resting his head on her shoulder as she took another bite. 

"What was he thinking?" she muttered. Simon didn't have to ask who the 'he' was in her question. Wilhelm.

He sighed as he thought of the day when Wilhelm came by his house, the day after the press release. "He was scared, mami. That's what he was thinking. He was scared and confused and under a lot of pressure. You've got to forgive him, Mom."

"I'm working on it. And when did you become a saint?" she answered, gazing at him with a quizzical look. 

"I just get it, I guess. You should have seen the look on his face. It killed him, saying what he did. He just couldn't come up with another way." Simon looked down at the floor. It killed Simon, too. But he also knew that sometimes it was better to be the victim than the offender. At least he got to sleep with a clean conscience. What about Wilhelm?

"Lack of imagination," she said.

He grimaced. "Yep, lack of imagination."

Linda looked at him squarely in the eye. "I know you. And you know you. Don't be easy on him. Don't let this slide. You wouldn't let someone treat Sara this way, so don't let anyone treat you this way either, okay?" She tousled his hair like she had done when he was a little kid. 

"Got it, Mom," he answered as he used his fingers to comb his curls back into position. 

"Okay. Now, vaya. My show's coming on, and you have chores to do, sir," she said as she pushed him off the couch. 

"Ya, ya. Voy," he replied with a grin and shuffled off to the kitchen to take out the trash.

"Gracias!" 

"Uh, huh. Sure..." 

Tomorrow's going to be fine. I'm not going to avoid him. I'm just, you know, not going to seek him out. I've got this. It'll be fine. Really.