Agreements With Mr Rich Boy | ✓

10 | Royal

MILES'S REACTION SEEMED warranted as she said those words.

I stepped away from her. Well, more like stumbled away, feeling myself subconsciously stand straighter and push my shoulders back. Her eyes flickered down to my moving feet, but I couldn't tell if she was angered or amused.

It felt strange to act this way when I'd never heard of her before, like everyone else had seemed to. Correction: it was strange.

"W-well," I said, edging closer to Miles and getting ready to hightail it out of there. "Thank you. We better..."

"Oh, right, of course," she said, seeming unchanged but with her slouching shoulders and disheartened molten gold eyes, it was clear she was disappointed.

I don't really know what I was thinking, considering both Miles and I could barely speak English when she was near. I suppose I figured we'd get over it, eventually.

Ensuring my throat was clear and I wouldn't spit all over her, I hesitated but finally asked the question. "We're just going to eat pringles in my room, if you want to come."

It didn't seem all that fun when I said it aloud. In fact, it seemed very, very sad. Pathetic, even. Like me, ha.

Whether she was going to say yes or no was not foreseeable. She could turn up her nose at the idea and stomp away, yet equally, would she do that having just helped us?

Rich people confused me.

"If you don't mind," she said, rocking on her heels a bit as if terrified we were going to change our minds and run away.

"Course not," I said. "The more the merrier, right Miles?"

Miles hadn't said anything for the conversation so when I called on him, he was not in the least bit ready. He jumped out of his skin when his name was said, and went to pulling on his sleeves, agitatedly.

"Right."

***

The three of us were sat in my room, them on the bed whilst I sat on the window ledge with a cushion under me.

Miles seemed to have become a lot more relaxed as we began talking and eating. He and her, surprisingly, were devouring the crisps like no tomorrow. Several times, I had to reprimand the both of them for leaving crumbs.

"Come on," Miles said, laying on his side and leaning on his hand. "You're telling me you don't like galas?"

She looked up to the ceiling. "Of course I like them, they're just a bit of a chore. There's this one at the end of the year and it's absolutely huge; everyone in the higher circles go and it's put up in a friend of mine's castle and—"

"Castle?!" Miles shrieked.

At the sight of her looking confusedly at us as if castles were the norm in both of our lives, I said, "Neither of us have ever been in a castle."

"Oh," she sighed, dejectedly. "You should both come, then. I'll show you around and it'll be fun."

Whilst Miles shouted a 'Yes!' very enthusiastically, I went for the unsure approach.

"I don't know, we'll see whe— hey, what's that?" I had spotted a line of cars, each with blacked out windows, both in front of and behind a large limousine. They barricaded it in as they were driving, sure to keep their pace slow and never more than a metre away from it.

Autumn was up and out of her seat as soon as she'd seen what I had, and was out the door.

Both Miles and I looked at one another.