Page 63 of A Royal Menace

I’ve just felt the need to figure this out on my own, without my judgement being clouded by other people’s opinions. And now, I’m wondering if that was the wrong way to go about it. I keep vacillating between the hurt Royal caused me and the guilt I feel for not giving him a chance to explain himself.

I’m almost certain he had no idea I was “Elle” until Monday when I gave him my phone number. I’ve played that scene over and over in my head, little details coming back to me each time. The way he went completely still after I spoke the last two numbers. The flare of his eyes and nostrils. A small, barely audible intake of breath. The shake in his voice when he suggested we communicate through Cackle, instead.

And the biggest clue of all––he’sthe one who suggested we text instead of email in the first place. He never would’ve done that if he knew before that moment that we’d been texting each other all along.

It’s possible he just panicked. That he assumed I’d be angry or embarrassed if he called me out as “Elle.” But if thatisthe case, why didn’t he tell me that night, when I came over for dinner? He acted like nothing was wrong. We ate. We flirted. We had sex. We slept together in the same bed.

And the whole time, I had no clue he was hiding something. That scares me.

That fear that he could lie so easily keeps me from caving. From talking to him and giving him a chance to explain himself. I’m afraid I’ll forgive him verbally, but secretly hold onto this fear that he could be lying about everything. The trust is gone, and I’m not sure if we could ever get it back.

And that thought leads me to wonder if I’m overreacting again. God, I’m so confused.

The staff meeting ends, and I slip out of the room before anyone can speak to me. I didn’t hear a word of it after Naomi’s greeting, so I hope I didn’t miss anything important. I’m such a mess. I can’t put it off any longer. I need my girls.

As I walk into my classroom, I pull up our text thread to send out an S.O.S.

Me:Drinks at my house tonight? I’m ready to talk.

Raven:Finally. I can be there at 5. I’ll bring the tequila and some margarita mix.

Joey:I can be there at 5, too. I’ll bring some chips, queso, and guac to go with the margaritas.

Twila:I’m in. Jo, can you pick me up on your way?

Joey:Of course.

Twila:Thanks, Bestie. I’ll bring something sweet.

Me:Thanks, guys. I love you all.

I get a bevy of heart emojis back from them, and I’m smiling as I tuck my phone away. I think it’s the first time I haven’t had to force it since Tuesday morning. The girls will help me figure out what I should do. And I’ll take whatever advice they can give me, especially since I’ve been so unsuccessful at figuring this out on my own. And honestly, that’s what friends are for, right?

I manage to make it through the day without seeing Royal, which is a relief. Avoiding him the last couple of days has been an exhausting endeavor. But it seems like he finally got the message and started avoiding me, as well. Giving me the time I need.

When I get home, I hop in the shower and wash my hair. Afterward, I dress in yoga pants and a cropped hoodie before tying my damp hair up into a bun on top of my head. Out in the kitchen, I get my blender out so Raven can make the margaritas when she gets here. After grabbing four glasses and the margarita salt from the pantry, I set them beside the blender before heading into the living room to clear off the coffee table.Pulling it away from the rest of the furniture, I grab the pillows from the couch and drop them around the table so we can sit, eat, and drink on the floor.

There’s a knock on the door just before it swings open, and Raven strides in, followed by Joey and Twila. They must’ve gotten here just as Raven was leaving her apartment two doors down.

“What did I tell you about serial killers and unlocked doors, Calliope Barnes?” Raven demands as she heads straight for the kitchen.

“I know. I know. Sorry,” I call back as Joey sets her bag of snacks on the coffee table and comes in for a hug.

“How are you doing?” she murmurs as we embrace.

“I’ll be okay,” I say, pulling back to meet her eyes. “Sorry I’ve been pushing you away all week.”

She waves off my apology and speaks louder so I can hear her over the roar of the blender now that Raven’s started mixing the drinks. “You needed time to process whatever happened before sharing it with us. We get it. I’m just glad you finally decided to let us in. We want to help.”

“I know,” I say, my eyes stinging with emotion. “And I love you all.”

“We love you, too,” Twila says, nudging Joey aside with her hip so she can give me a hug.

Joey and Twila set out the chips, dips, and chocolate chip cookies while I head into the kitchen to help Raven carry the margaritas out. Before I can pick up two glasses, Raven pulls me into a long hug. I hug her back with all my might.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers in my ear, and I nod.

She doesn’t mean she’s missed me in the traditional sense. We haven’t been separated, geographically. And while we’ve texted and talked this week, I haven’t really said anything. I’ve been a ghost––present, but not reallyhere.

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