Page 24 of A Royal Menace

Rifling through my bag, I find my phone and pull up my text thread with Raven. My thumbs fly over the screen as I type. I just hope she’s awake and willing to offer me some kind of useful advice.

Me:HELP! SOS! I think I’m going crazy.

Raven:Let me guess…Royal dicked you down last night, you came so hard you saw stars, and now you don’t know how you’re going to face him?

Me:What? No! WTF is wrong with you? As if.

Raven:Don’t go quoting Cher Horowitz to me, missy. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. Then again, maybeI was wrong. Maybe nothing happened, and you’re texting me because you wanted it to and now you’re freaking out?

Her perception is really freaking scary sometimes. She’s not exactly right, but she’s not exactly wrong, either.

Me:The hotel gave away my room, and nothing close by had any vacancies, so Royal offered to let me share his room. I accepted.

Raven:Ooh, the “only one bed” trope, live and in person. How was it? Is he big? Please tell me he has a big dick.

Me:The room has two beds, psycho. I haven’t seen his dick, nor do I plan to. Ever.

Raven:Booooring. So, what’s the big emergency?

I squeeze my eyes closed and inhale a long, deep, breath. Then I start to type.

Me:Royal is…nicer than I thought. He saved me from making a huge, drunken mistake last night, and even though I was a royal bitch (pun intended) to him about it at the time, he was super sweet this morning. Then he sat with me at breakfast, and this gorgeous, boobalicious bimbo came over to sit next to him. She was *this* close to humping his leg while they flirted with each other, and then I think I got food poisoning because I felt like I was going to puke.

Raven:Food poisoning, huh?

Me:Yes. Bad eggs, I think.

Raven:Uh-huh. Sure.

Me:Come on, Raven. Don’t make me say it. Just help me.

Raven:How am I supposed to help you stop being jealous?

Me:I don’t know. Remind me how much I hate him.

Raven:But you don’t hate him. You never did. That’s why you’ve tried so hard to make him hate you.

I read that last text again, and something in my gut pinches. Could she be right? Have I kept my relationship with Royalcontentious because, on some subconscious level, I’ve always wanted him?

My eyes flit up to the time at the top of my phone screen, and I groan. The first panel is about to start, and I don’t want to be late.

Me:I have to go. I’ll text you later, k?

Raven:Just think about what I said.

Me:I will. Thanks, Bestie.

Raven:And if Royal tries to give you that dick, text me right after.

Me:GoodBYE, Raven.

Raven:

A laugh bursts through my lips without my permission, and I lock the phone’s screen before dropping it back into my bag. Raven can be utterly ridiculous, but she’s incredibly insightful.

That’s why you’ve tried so hard to make him hate you.

I’m not sure she’s even close to the mark with that one, but I’m not sure she’snot, either. I don’t have time to think about it right now. I’m late.

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