Secret Royalty

Chapter Eight

The memory of Pierce dragging me into Snaps for the first time flashed in front of my eyes.

“Like it?” she chuckled, spinning in a lazy circle in front of the doorway. Typically, most people would be embarrassed if their best friend did this, but not me. It was normal for Pierce.

My eyes scanned the room filled with hues of brown and maroon. There was an uneven stage to the left of the doorway. Just in front, or more to my right I should say, was a countertop to acquire your coffee and tables were dispersed ahead. Chairs, couches, and coffee tables remained in front of the wooden stage. The items that caught my eye, though, were the paintings on the wall.

Pierce grabbed my sleeve and pulled me to the old leather couch, the farthest in the back. “I thought you might like the paintings,” she smiled, letting herself fall onto the sofa. My eyes were glued to all the simple watercolor canvases. I had never seen anything so simple, yet so fluid and undulated before. I nodded.

From behind, my curly ponytail was tugged. “Looks like pumpkin-head brought in a newbie,” called a male voice. I turned around. There stood a man, just around my age, with shaggy blonde hair and grey eyes. I would later know him as Sam.

“My name is Emilia, bleach hair,” I smiled sarcastically back. My eyebrows were raised slightly.

He cocked his head to the side, revealing a small tattoo of a phoenix. “Oh,” he smirked devilishly, “I see that Pumpkin doesn’t want to talk today.” Sam walked around the couch and sat in the middle of us. “So, what are two pretty girls doing here, a cruddy poetry gathering, on such a beautiful day?”

Pierce mimicked his tone, “So, why do assholes go to poetry readings? To express their inner dick?”

“Emilia,” he changed the subject, “why are you here? You don’t seem like the poetry type. You seem to like art.” He winked and I knew then that he was watching me as I looked around the room earlier. “Why don’t you come to my place? I have all the art supplies you could ever want.”

“You’re house probably smells like shit. Leave us alone or you’ll have another black eye. Remember that day, Sam?” Pierce grinned persuasively and nodded as he got off of the couch.

The bells on the antique door chimed as I walked in with Jed. The sound shot the old memory through my brain. “Where do you want to go?” he asked, smiling slightly.

“Let’s grab a coffee,” I persuaded, walking towards the counter. After we ordered, Jed with a cappuccino and I with a hot chocolate, we made our way over to the couch I had met both Sam and Jed on. I took a long drag of my hot drink.

“Hey bitches!” chirped Pierce from behind. She braced her arms on the couch and flung her body over, landing to my right. I almost spat out my hot coco.

Jed chuckled, rolling his sapphire eyes. “Just for the record, I’m male. You can’t call me that,” he stated, a smirk forming on his thin lips.

Pierce crossed her legs confidently. “I can call you whatever I want, J.”

I sighed and propped my head sluggishly onto the top of the couch. “Not really,” I muttered while averting my eyes from my friends.

“Yes really.”

“Pierce, he’s a guy, you can’t do that.”

“Yes I can.”

“No you can’t.”

“Can you guys stop? Mr. Blue is staring at you,” whispered Jed. I moved my gaze to a guy who was around our age with royal blue hair. He coughed and blew his nose.

I snickered looking back at Jed. “Mr. Blue appears to be sick,” I indicated.

“Can I be Mrs. Orange?” asked Pierce.

I moved my head to my right, “No, you can be Pierce.”

“I want to be Mrs. Orange!”

“No.”

“Fuck it.”

“Girls!” moaned Jed. He was facing us, staring at the back of my head. “Really? Now?” he requested.

“Yes now, bitch,” sneered Pierce.

 I sat back against the couch and crossed my arms. I set my gaze on the stage and I was persistent on not moving it.

“Sorry Emilia,” puffed Pierce. I sustained my stare on the stage. After I was tired of my view of the old maple platform, I glanced at Mr. Blue. He continued sneezing before standing up to go to the restroom. He walked past the three of us, coughing the whole way.

“It’s fine. How’s Dean?” I asked, turning my body once again to face her.

Pierce took a deep, unstable breath. Her chocolate eyes looked like they could sink back into her face. “We’re writing a new song,” she mumbled.

“You haven’t broke up with him yet?”

Pierce shook her head no and bit her lip. I felt fingers on my back; Jed was reassuring me that everything was fine. Slowly, I pressed myself into his arms.

“What’s the song about?” asked Jed who’s fingers tangled in my hair. I smiled slightly and rested the back of my head on the crook of his neck.

She thought for a moment. “Our ongoing relationship.”

My fingers traced along her charm bracelet he had given her. It had things that reminded her of him. I remembered then the day she had gotten it. It was close to our graduation. We were eating in the cafeteria when Dean, who eventually sat down next to Pierce, approached us. I smiled at him. He covered her eyes with one hand and placed the bracelet in her lap with the other. She then smiled at him. He smiled back at both of us and told her how she would always be his. I thought back to Sam, who was my current boyfriend at the time.

“This one is the prettiest,” I pointed out, moving the music note over in my fingers. Pierce nodded. She was always quiet when I mentioned Dean.

“I like it too,” smiled Jed. His hands dropped from my hair down to my waist where he pulled me closer to him.

Pierce smiled. “The Dark Side is playing later this week. We’re preforming the song there. Want to come?” she asked eagerly. Her mood seemed to perk up.

“Sure,” Jed and I said at the same time.

The song Snaps had been playing changed to one I knew, causing me to notice. Sister Golden Hair by America started to play. “Hey Em?” Jed said. “Can I come to the bookstore with you tomorrow morning? I would love to see it since the two of you girls work there and I could always use another poetry book.”

“Dean can come!” squealed Pierce.

My lips couldn’t hold back a smile at Pierce’s happiness. “Sounds fun,” I bobbed my head.

“I’ll pick you up at eight, okay?” Jed confirmed.

“Eight sounds perfect.”