Autumn Flame (Seasons #2 )

Chapter 21: The News

Felicity has always had good taste. Therefore, it's no surprise that she chose a super nice restaurant for this dinner tonight. We walk into the dining room and I am floored by the high ceilings, the moody yet sophisticated vibe, and the drinks that just made their way past me on a silver tray. I have to physically hold myself back from chugging one after the whole golf ordeal.

I squeeze Sydney's hand and give her a quick encouraging smile. She searches the tables until she locates our group and I let her steer me to them.

I am still struggling to contain my thoughts, but the different setting and people around me help. They're much less... triggering.

We exchange hellos and hug and we take our seats between Preston and Clement's date, a girl from our calculus class I've never spoken to before. Tall, dark, with model features and a super-tight mini dress, she's Clement's type, alright. And judging by how he's staring at said dress, he'll probably ask me to remind him of her name by the end of the night.

"We were just talking about you!" exclaims Felicity. Her cheeks are red and her eyes glossy. It's no surprise to see an empty cocktail glass between her pink nails.

Clement, always the great host, flags down a waiter to order another round for everyone.

"You better not be telling them the ice rink story," I warn Felicity and Preston.

The group bursts out laughing.

"How did you know?" Felicity giggles. She clutches the new girl's hand. "Stacy, they were so cute."

Preston and I look at each other. Cute is not how I would describe us. I shake my head at him. He shrugs, but already a goofy smile reappears on his face.

"Oh, oh!" Felicity cries. "Did you know that Melanie is dating Charlie Thompsett?"

It's as if the piano stopped and the floor gave out and dropped me in a dark pit. Am I in a nightmare? When did I go to sleep?

"Um..." I stutter.

"We actually just met him this afternoon," says Sydney easily.

Felicity straightens. "Wait, you met him? Charlie Thompsett? The Third?"

"No way," gasps Preston.

Clement lifts an eyebrow while his date, Stacy, leans forward, a look of surprise on her face. Her boobs almost spill into her plate and I have to focus on the awkward conversation to avoid a more awkward staring situation. What has my life come to?

"Is he someone important?" I ask, looking between them.

Felicity rolls her eyes. "Seriously, Rhys. Do you live under a rock?"

Preston chuckles. "Man, even I know who Thompsett is."

"Will anyone clue me in?" I ask.

"Charles Thompsett—the dad—is a huge movie celeb," Felicity explains, "and the mom is part of the royal family. I think she's like sixteenth in line to the British throne?"

"I think twelfth," adds Stacy.

"Okay, so?" I say, more than a little agitated.

"Charlie, their son," Fel continues, "is basically a young, good-looking royal and a super wealthy, famous socialite."

"More like a famous douche," I mutter.

"They just don't make them like that anymore," says Stacy wistfully, missing my comment.

But Sydney catches it. "I don't know," she says in response to me, "he seemed nice. Maybe a little stuck up, but he could just be British."

"Definitely British," nod Felicity and Stacy as if they know him well.