The Heir

Chapter 43

I feel like I'm going to throw up. Like my insides are tightening into knots. And it hurts. Jesus Christ, it hurts.

It's been a long time since my family was under attack like this. Honestly, I can barely remember it. But I am painfully aware of the fact that we have never fought a war without losing someone important.

My grandparents. My parents. Uncle Antonio. The list goes on and on. And the longer it takes for my mother to call back, the worse the dread is.

But I slap on a smile like I always do and I make good on my word to Ryan. I climb into the running town car right outside the gates. Duke's already in the back seat and offers me a smile.

"Hey there, princess."

"Hi, Duke."

"No dance today?" he asks as the driver closes my door.

"Not today," I reply simply.

The driver takes off and I turn my attention to the window. Winter is in full force now. The entire landscape is pure white. Snow covers the ground and trees, the only exception being pathways people have shoveled clear.

"Elle," Duke nudges my arm. I glance at him only to furrow my brow.

"Want to try?" he holds out a tupperware.

I eye up the brown circles with trepidation, "what is it?"

"Peanut butter covered bananas," he pushes the container closer. "I know you're a fan of both."

I don't feel like fighting with him right now and that's exactly what'll happen if I don't just give in. So I take one and pop it in my mouth.

"Good, right?" Duke takes one for himself.

"Yeah," I have to concede. I reach over and take another.

I can see Duke in the corner of my eye. He's trying to hold back a smile, poorly, as he watches me eat. I choose to ignore him and look out the window again.

"Did you end up putting together a study guide for the English exam?" Duke asks.

"Not yet," I reply, still facing the window. "I'll do it this weekend."

"Share it with me?" he asks.

"Of course," I wave my hand dismissively.

"Hey," Duke puts his hand on my forearm. I look down at it before trailing up his arm to his face.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "You've been off since we came back from New York."

"I'm fine," I flash my trademark smile. "There's just a lot between exams and my recital."

"Didn't you just have a recital?" he asks.

"This is the big one, though," I reply. "It's kind of make or break."

"When is it?" he asks, drawing his hand back.

"The weekend before exams start," I inform him.

"Is your dad going?" he tucks the now empty container into his backpack.

"Probably," I shrug. "I hope so."

"What about that boyfriend of yours?" he continues to question me.

"I haven't told him yet," I admit.

It's the truth and if I'm being honest, I don't think I want Rome there. He's not even really my boyfriend, nor do I have any desire for the other dancers to meet him. Most certainly not if my father is going to be in attendance.