The Lords, Princes, and Kings.

Chapter Thirteen-

   "If I get too close/And I'm not how you hoped/Forgive my northern attitude/Oh, I was raised out in the cold" –Noah Kahan & Hozier- Northern Attitude–

    I still woke up before Marcus. He had to go to school an hour before Margarita and I did. "Wake up, Mars," I prodded.

After a few minutes of me trying to wake him up, he finally opened his eyes. "Wha-"

"School." When Marcus was finally ready and about to go out to the bus, Aunt Mindy burst through the doors.

"Oh! Good morning, Marcus. Mickey, thank you so much for getting him up," she breathed. She threw her arms around Marcus in a hug before showing him out the door. Her sleeve folded up when she hugged him, revealing a handprint. My breath caught, but I shrugged it off.

"How was the meeting?"

She groaned and held her arms open. I eyed her cautiously. "Let's just say, I need more than one hug after it." I gave her a hug before going back to my room.

Before getting ready, I fetched my French notebook- the type of notebook, not my notebook for French class.

" 16/10/2024- The Kanin Enigma- 12/11/2029, European Calendar

Polish-Swedish Battalion 2-0-95 fought beside American troop 1-60. American General Locke and Swedish General Nilsson led the force into battle by the Suur Munamägi. By dawn, 5;32 EEST time, to be exact, ten soldiers of 2-0-95 and about half of troop 1-60 followed General Locke into American Fort Columbia. The doctor on site claimed those involved had memory blockage caused by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). The opposing battalion was almost decimated, or disappeared, besides two men. Both told separate ghost tales about that night. Both died within thirteen months. "

  I jumped to my feet, rushing to get ready. I had about fifteen minutes before the bus would be there and I would prefer to be ready before it rolls up. Shoving the notebook back into my bag and throwing Her necklace on, I bolted out. Too quick.

"Sh- oot. Shoot, Milv, watch out."

"Sorry, Peggy-" I winced, not meaning to use the nickname I had long forgotten about. She froze, gaze shifting. She looked at me, still. Colder, yet.

"Sor-"

"Its time to go." Her voice was hard. I nodded slowly.

Carter and Hina were nowhere to be seen.

"I'm sorry, Mickey, but I think Hazel likes Violet." Dove said abruptly. I gave her a look.

"What?"

Stormii glared at Dove. "Violet is straight, and, for the last time, Mickey does not. Like. Hazel."

"W-h-a-t."

"Fine. Maybe Mickey doesn't like Hazel, but she will. Hazel is charming, and fine as fuck. Oh, and, so lesbian, she breathes out rainbows."

"Guys-"

"Fine, whatever. Hazel doesn't like Violet and she knows Mickey swings that way. Also, have you seen how Hazel talks to her? Everyone in the room has their gaydar a-blazin'."

The bell rang and I left, not wanting to deal with them. Carter stepped into view and I rushed to grab her bag. "Hey!"

"Hey..."

"I missed you the last two blocks, where were you?"

"Nothing."

"What were you doing?"

She paused. "I was about to be doing someone. But, no, Cam and Rita can't keep their shit to themselves and had to interrupt before we even kissed! I hate them so mu-"

Speak of the devil. Rita ran into me, causing the words to die in Carter's throat.

Margarita gripped onto my arm so she wouldn't fall face-down in the swarming hallway."Fuckin- Mickey! Shit, why do you-" She stopped, glancing at Carter. The alarming level of concern in her eyes fizzled out as she fixed her posture. I suddenly remembered that I had accidentally cut my forehead–not that I even understood how.

  "Um, my mom's picking us up. Meet me at my locker?"

"Rita-... Mickey?" Carter's eyes shone with betrayal. A lump of remorse formed in my throat.

"I'll tell you later. I swear."

"Uh-"

"I love you, I hear you, I am here for you. Call me, text me, I don't care. Contact me with carrier pigeons for all I care!"

Locker 665. The hallway would be empty.

"Mickey, can you give me a hand?" Margarita asked anxiously.

"Sure," I began before challenging it. "Peggy."

She laughed the slightest bit, only to frown at whatever was in her locker.

"Whatsup?"

"Um... do you have any pads?" Oh!

"Yeah, don't be so awkward about it." I took off my bag, searching for it. Margarita sighed shakily, leaning her back against the lockers. "You all right?"

"How could Carter be like she is when her cousin is how she is? Allowing two people to be blood related, yet so different, is so fucked up. Carter is funny and nice, and gay, and Cameron thinks she's funny and she's disgusting and homophobic." She slide down until she was sitting.

    "Still need a pad?" I questioned.

"Probably," she answered with a sigh.

"Why are you friends with her if you are willing to think, let alone say, such things?"

"Because."

"Uh-huh."

"It's easier...?"

"Sure." I handed her the pad, zipped my bag up, and sat beside her. "Your mom is picking us up." I reminded her.

"Yeah..."

"Go change your pad."

She turned to look at me. Suddenly, my ribcage wasn't doing its job. It nearly hurt. It ached. The fluttering began to burn as it sped up. Her eyes, hair, and skin. Gold.

"Peggy-"

"My mom is coming in half an hour or so, Marcus has wrestling."

"Right, I forgot he had wrestling on Tuesdays."

Silence clung on to us. I drew away and picked up our stuff.

"Your makeup is smeared, you know."

"Yeah?"

 "Yeah," I confirmed, passing her my compact mirror.

"13 minutes."

Longest thirteen minutes of my life.