𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧, young royals

4: Horror Night

4: Horror Night

I very quickly regretted showing up to this stupid movie night.

By nine o'clock, everyone was already cramped up on the floor with dozen of cushions and blankets, the third-years having claimed the sofas and armchairs as theirs. Felice and I were sat in the front, sharing a bowl of gummy worms while we waited for the movie to start, and by nine twenty, everyone else had arrived.

One of the third-years pushed a button on the projector, hissing at everyone to quiet down.  After a few more minutes of mindless bickering and popcorn-throwing, someone finally slapped the tape in, and the movie started.

That's when Simon showed up.

People whined, urging him and Sara to sit, but as it appeared, the only free places left were in the front row, next to mine.

So now here I was, uncomfortably huddled up on the ground and thigh-to-thigh with Simon.

For the next hour of the movie, I was strangely aware of his every moves. I felt whenever he stirred and switched positions, or when he flinched at a jump-scare and tugged on the blanket. I noticed when he stretched his legs and wiggled his toes, or when he held his breath during a scene. I was painfully aware of his knee jabbing into my thigh from time to time, sending electric shocks spasming through my leg at every contact, and I hated every second of it.

The room felt small, too small. I didn't like that Simon could touch me at any given moment, that it somehow jarred me every single time. I couldn't stop peering back at him, trying to decipher his expressions and figure out if this bothered him, too, but he just stared ahead at the movie screen, stone-faced and unfazed.

I needed to leave.

Throwing the blankets off my legs, I rose to my feet and darted away, carefully avoiding the pillows and crumbled bags of chips scattered all over the floor, and I steered toward the stairs. I stomped down the stairway, winded up in a hall, then headed to a nearby window and climbed up on the sill.

I reached for the latches, inched open the window, letting a gust of crisp air lap at my face, and slid against the window frame.

Outside, the crickets sang, and the trees danced with the wind. I sat and listened to the rustling leaves, gulping down the fresh September air, the earthly smell of dewy grass and crushed-up leaves.

And then the sound of footsteps came from behind me, echoing off the walls of the hall, and I turned away from the window. For some reason, I wasn't surprised to find Simon aimlessly roaming in the hallway. Had I been expecting him to follow me out? I wasn't sure.

His eyes found me sitting by the window, and he titled his head, cocking a brow at me.

"What are you doing?" I rasped.

Simon approached me slowly, dropping lazily from one feet and onto the other, and shrugged.

"I was going to pee," he replied indolently. "Thanks for caring."

And that was it for me.

"You know what?" I snapped crossly. "This is getting tiring, and quite frankly, I have better things to do than bickering with you."

Simon nonchalantly crossed his arms over his chest.  "So?"

I rolled my eyes, sucking on my teeth.  "So when are you going to quit being a bitter asshole?"

He raised his eyebrows at me, entertained.  "Was that supposed to win me over?"

I paused and glared at him.  "Hate me all you want, but whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me for three more years."

He looked unimpressed.  "Okay?  Do you wanna be friends now?"

"Absolutely not," I scoffed.

"What do you want, then?"

"To settle things civilly."

Simon audibly laughed at that, crow-feet around his eyes.  "And what's that supposed to mean?"

I hopped off the windowsill and stepped closer to him.  Standing upright, I towered roughly half a foot over him.

"It means you can either punch me in the face right now or you can fuck right off."

Simon's cocky smile dropped in a matter of seconds, his expression turning solem and unamused, but he didn't budge.

With as much self-assurance as I could muster, I straightened my spine and unwaveringly held his gaze. We stood very still, closer than close, and I could see his ribcage expand with every breath he drew, listen as they pervaded his lungs. His jaw clenched, denting the sides of his face, and his eyes anchored into mine, nurturing a stubborn fire.

"That's an interesting ultimatum," he remarked lowly, nearly a whisper for the breeze to catch.  "Your reputation suits you."

Simon jutted his face closer to mine as he spoke, almost as if to challenge me, and I felt his breath fan over my face. And suddenly, my heart was hammering so ferociously in my chest that I thought it might spring through my flesh, and an unexpected rush of heat flooded my cheeks. It was hard to tell if it was the adrenaline pumping through my veins or the uncomfortable closeness of our bodies. Or both. Either way, I felt my confidence waver, every ounce of composure draining out of me, and my legs suddenly seemed like they were carved out of jell-o.

What the hell is he doing?

A crash sounded from the speaker upstairs, followed by a series of high-pitch squeals, and I snapped out of my trance. Wide-eyed, I flinched away from him and stumbled two steps back.

Simon remained rooted to his spot, unmoving, considering me with curious, slitted eyes. Lips slightly parted, he cocked his head ever-so gently, and a subtle grin tugged at his mouth.

The silence became agoninzingly awkward and unbearable then, like a stack of bricks weighing down on me. Swallowing hard, I gathered my composure and heaved myself upright.

"Well, fuck off, then," I finally managed to spit out, grinding my teeth harshly.

Without uttering another word, Simon flashed all his teeth in a victorious, cat-like smirk and turned his back to me, but his eyes lingered on me until the last possible second. He strolled away, soft-fallen feet echoing in the passageway, and I held my breath until he slipped past the treshold and vanished from my sight.