The Legend of the Eight: The Charmed (Book 4)

7: One Milkshake, Two Straws

SEVEN: ONE MILKSHAKE, TWO STRAWS
SEPTEMBER 5
WIL DIAMOND

"THAT'S ALL YOU'RE EATING?" Wil asked with two prominently-S shaped brows after listening to Sir Oliver place his dinner order. They were at some hole-in-the-wall pub, grabbing a bite to eat after the game—though for Sir Oliver, who'd just ordered a chicken Thai salad with dressing on the side, it appeared to be just that. A bite.

"What do you have against salads?" he fired back, scoffing at her while handing his menu back to their waiter.

"Nothing," she answered though that was a lie. "It's just that I am not a rabbit and therefore I don't eat them." Then she turned to their waiter to place her order. "I'll do the chicken bacon ranch sandwich with fries and extra pickles on the side. And we'll take a plate of fries now—ranch on the side, please—and a basket of fried pickles. Thank you."

"Of course, Your Highness. I'll put that right in and your starters will be right out."

Their waiter disappeared to the kitchen and Wil folded her hands as she smiled eagerly at Sir Oliver. He looked his usual brand of handsome in a pair of dark wash jeans, an Academy crew, and suede loafers. His eyes sparkled and whenever she looked at him, he was smiling. It was impossible not to smile back.

"A girl who can eat," he teased of her full order. "I like that."

Wil stuck her tongue out at him playfully and then bit her lip. "So. Your first Academy soccer game is in the books. What did you think?"

"I never realized it was such a big deal, if I'm being honest. But you guys don't play around."

Wil giggled. "I guess it's a good thing you stopped by the Gear Shop and picked up that sweater then. They would've eaten you alive for dressing in Purum colors."

"Unintentionally dressing in Purum colors," he pointed out, since when he'd arrived on campus earlier, he was wearing a royal blue pullover with his jeans. Purum blue. If it was any consolation, the color did make his eyes pop.

"I like your friends," Oliver told her, grinning like a happy child. "You guys seem close."

"We are," Wil nodded. "We've been through a lot together. It's nice having them in my corner."

"I'm sure," Oliver replied as he took his napkin and laid it across his lap, just in time for their waiter to return with their fried appetizers. "It's not easy having every aspect of your life broadcasted for the world to see. It's hard to find true friends that can stand by you through that."

"What about you?" she asked. "You've had your fair share of press. How do you handle it all? You always seem so composed and put together."

"Gin, mostly," he answered a little too quickly and for a moment, Wil thought he might be serious. But then he cracked a smile and popped a fried pickle in his mouth. "If I'm being honest, I'm not sure. The Henstridges are certainly no Diamonds but for some reason, people care what I do. I guess I kind of figured that if I'm going to live my life under a microscope, I might as well do some good. It gives people something positive to pay attention to."

"As opposed to the overwhelming negativity currently consuming the Realm," Wil joked since peace in the Realm was at an all-time high.

Oliver chuckled with her. "What about you? Up until recently, you were... Well, you were much different than the girl you are now. What changed?"

Wil shrugged complacently and dipped a fry in ranch. At the palace, she rarely got to eat anything fried (thanks to the healthy restrictions her mother placed on the kitchen staff) so she tended to indulge when she was away. While she chewed, she smiled at Oliver as if to say the answer was a mystery and then swallowed.