Royal Ever After

chapter thirteen

It takes the platinum-chrome alarm clock a dozen tries to make me budge. Its normal sing-songy tunes don't feel as soothing as they used to. By contrast, the relentless ringing noise feels like a guitar constantly being struck with the wrong chord. At least I'm awake now. I drowsily scrub my eyes open, letting the sun gleam through the crack of my blinds and bounce off the walls.

I get dressed in a tan pullover and loose sweats and grab a fresh burrito from the buffet. Even after devouring the scrumptious meal, I still don't feel ready to face the day. Especially not all the drama-hungry students. But I have to for Sander. I told him we'd work this out together, and there's no way on Earth I'm bailing on him. So, I force myself to keep on walking, up until I reach the classroom. I arrive right on cue, as the bell rings as soon as I slouch into the chair.

Sander is already there. His head is immersed in his book, so he doesn't notice me until attendance. I give him a reassuring smile that today will be okay. I'm not sure if I'm trying to convince him or myself, because I am very much so losing hope. I mean, even if this eventually dies down, it will be engrained in everyone's memory forever. Sure, I could run away again, but I don't think that I have the energy left to start over.

My paranoia prevents me from paying attention to class, because the instant I turn my head away, I sense my classmates' whispers. Their nasty snickers are almost unbearable, but somehow, I manage to survive. Mr Quinn hands us all a stack of paper to review as we're exiting class, and a bunch of groans fill the hall. When I'm positive that no one's looking, I snatch Sander's wrist and drag him to the music room where we can have some privacy.

He looks at me with wide eyes like I've just kidnapped him, but softens up when I squeeze his hand. We sit opposite each other, with our hands up front and our fingers intertwined. I still feel too far away from him, so I scoot to his side and hold his hand. I can feel his soft curls tickling my cheek.

"Well, I talked with my mom, and she wants me to deny that it was me in the video," I sigh.

"But you're not going to do that, right?" He looks at me expectantly while I try to find the right words to say next.

"You know how much I care about you Sander, but there are some other things that I need to consider."

"What about me? You can see my face so much more clearly than yours, so what am I supposed to do?" he groans. He raises a valid point. I haven't thought that far ahead. Of course, I've thought about how Sander would get out of this predicament, but I always figured that I'd overshadow him and their attention would be focused on me.

"I don't know," I confess. "I'm sure we can figure something out, though."

"I guess that no matter what, they can't dictate what you say", he points out. "And I trust that you'll do the right thing. I trust that you'll accept whatever repercussions that'll come from you telling the truth, and live your life freely." That's easy for him to say, but he has no idea how messy my life would get into if I confess. I'd always be looked at differently, and this is my last chance to turn things around. My heart breaks a little more every time I look at his face and think about how easily everything can fall apart.

"I don't want to say anything to the press, but my mom's making me do so," I complain, twirling the strands of hair covering his face.

"I believe in you. We haven't even done anything wrong," he reassures me.

"You're right. Thank you for putting your trust in me," I let out a wistful smile. We sit there for some time longer, up until the bell rings for our next period. I make a mental note to myself that I will not give up on Sander. Unfortunately, we aren't in the same class again, but at least I have art, which means I can be a little more laid-back. Our teacher, Mrs Rivera, never pays much attention to me anyway. She's always too focused on helping the guys with no artistic ability whatsoever, which also happens to be the majority of the basketball team.