Page 37 of Royal Havoc

I notice B’s cheeks flex every time someone else calls me princess. I don’t know why, though.

The doctor sets a birthday bag on the table in front of B. “Just like you asked for,” he tells him. “You’ve got a few minutes. Then I’d like to see you in my office, princess.”

“Okay.” I smile.

“But —”

“Don’t,” Dr. Bolton warns B. “Don’t ruin her day. I’ll let you visit more, after,” he assures B calmly.

“Fine,” he grits, turning to stare out the window.

I’ve got no clue what’s going on between them, but I don’t like it.

Once we’re alone again. “Sorry. Here, Happy Birthday.” B smiles, showing off his dimples, pushing the gift over to me.

I rush to stand, ripping the tissue paper from the bag. Tears instantly fill my eyes before I’ve even processed what I’m looking at.

“B,” I gasp, trying not to choke on my tears. “You remembered,” I whisper, reaching into the bag.

“I wasn’t allowed to get you the right size. But, he said you could have a small one.”

The purple teddy bear is perfect. It’s just big enough to hug and soft under my fingers. “It’s perfect, B. Thank you so much,” I sniff, staring at his gift.

“Now you’ll be able to sleep,” he whispers, watching me closely. “Please don’t be sad.”

Swiping at the tears on my cheeks. “I’m happy. These are happy tears,” I tell him softly, squeezing the teddy bear to my chest. “I love it. I’m going to name him Dimples, after you.”

I sit back down when he moves the bag, both of us smiling, studying each other. For some reason, he makes me nervous in a good way, and I wonder if he feels the same.

B’s eyes glance over my head, and his smile disappears, making me turn around to see what he’s looking at. Unfortunately, it’s Sasha sitting alone like usual, a couple of tables behind us. She’s sixteen, like B, with short dark hair.

“Still hanging out with babies, Brock?” She laughs, shaking her head.

I hate her. She thinks because she has big boobs that she’s prettier than me.

“Shut up, Sasha,” B warns quietly, squeezing his hands together until his knuckles turn white. “Don’t pay attention to her. Tell me about your dream,” he orders, trying to gain my attention.

Since they’ve split us up, I couldn’t sleep. Dr. Bolton said that wasn’t good and started making me take pills to help me get tired. They make me have the funkiest dreams.

“When you’re done playing with toys, you know where to find me,” Sasha taunts, winking at him.

I leave Dimples on the table and slide from my chair, gracefully walking the few steps it takes to get to her. Mommy always said to hold your head high and never slouch.

Sasha watches me, and I think I hear B whispering my name. When I reach her table, she turns her head to look at me.

“What?” she sneers as I smile at her ugly face.

My nails scratch down her face, drawing blood, making me laugh when she screams. Her dirty hair wraps around my thin fingers perfectly as I slam her face on the table. The blood gushing from her nose quickly turns into a puddle of red beneath her face.

I raise her head, getting closer to her face so she hears me over her stupid crying. “Call me a baby again, and I’ll cut out your tongue.” I giggle, smiling at her sweetly.

Her eyes grow wide when I dip my fingertip in her blood and use it to draw a heart on the table before I wink.

Suddenly, the room turns loud.

nineteen

Dinner Toons

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