Ruby

"She's offering to pay for college."

Elle takes a sip of her soda as she considers me, the multicolored lights glinting off her blond hair, highlighting the pretty contours of her face.

"In exchange for?" she asks as she puts down her cup.

"How do you know she wants something?"

Yes, I'm feeling a tad defensive about this decision. I'm still not sure about it even though it felt like the right thing to do at the time.

Elle rolls her eyes. "I know that woman wouldn't spit on someone on fire if she didn't get anything out of it." She tilts her head to the side. "Of course, my opinion of her might be just a little colored by the fact that I know she doesn't like me," she admits.

I sigh. "No, you're right."

A shout goes up from the watching crowd and I glance over my shoulder to see the eight foot tall holographic rendering of some kind of ape-like creature beat its chest. Its slender, tentacled opponent is on the ground, still going through its death throes. The skinny winner thrusts his hands up in the air as his friends slap him on the back.

There are more than a few familiar faces in the crowd encircling the ring, talking and laughing about the fight as they eat and drink.

Maybe the arcade wasn't the best place to talk, but it's familiar and comforting. Even if it is loud. I could really do with some comfort lately.

"She's been pretty vague, but she says there are conditions," I continue as the noise level comes back to the steady buzz that's always going here. "One of them is going to Prince Herne's cotillion. And checking out the 'eligible bachelors' there. Because I need to make sure I catch a suitable husband." I rub my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "God help me."

Elle chuckles. "Hmm. I guess that's not so bad. I mean, you could always pretend nobody was interested in you if you don't like anyone." She shrugs, picking up another fry and popping it into her mouth thoughtfully. "I would just worry what other conditions she might come up with once she has her hooks firmly in you."

She holds her hands up, curling her fingers into claws as she bares her teeth and hisses.

"She's not a monster," I say wryly. "And school is expensive."

"I'm not saying she's a monster," Elle says patiently. "Just that she's the controlling type and she has some very strict ideas about what's proper. I know you can agree on that." I nod. There's no arguing against that. "And there's a reason she and your mom aren't on the best of terms. I mean, look, it isn't like your mom isn't controlling too. But she has much more of a heart than dear old granny."

I open my mouth to make a rebuttal even though she's right, but she continues without giving me an opening.

"Look, I'm not saying don't take the deal," she says, leaning on the counter. "I'm just saying you need to watch your back. Because don't get it twisted here—your grandmother is always watching her own."

She's right. If there's one thing Grandmother is good at, it's making sure she's doing everything she can for herself.

I sigh, rubbing my eyes. I didn't sleep well last night.

"Yeah, you're probably right." I drop my hands, hearing the onlookers cheering behind me again, but not bothering to look back. It dies down. "Something else happened too," I add, wanting to get it off my chest.

"What?" Elle asks absently, scrolling through her messages on her HUD.

I clear my throat. No other way to say this. And I have no desire to tip toe around it.

"I kinda lost my virginity."

Her head whips around and she gapes at me, messages completely forgotten. "What?!" she almost shouts.

"Shh," I admonish, looking around nervously. "I don't want to put out an announcement to the world!"

She scoots her stool closer. "Nobody can hear anything in here unless they're right on top of us," she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Anyway, spill it! Talk!" She leans in, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Who was it? How was it? Oh my God, how big was it? You have to tell me everything!"

I smile slightly, but it fades again. "It was… nice." I tilt my head to the side. "More than nice," I admit. "And his name is Zane."

Assuming that also wasn't a lie. I bury the stab of pain.

"Nice? That's all I'm getting?" Elle demands, slapping her hand on the counter and shaking her head. "Give me more, woman! I'm dying here!"

I snort. "Yeah, I'm not giving you a play by play," I say wryly. "And I'm pretty sure I'll see you tomorrow looking as healthy as ever."

She pouts, taking another sip of her drink. "Serves you right if I did die. And don't think I wouldn't haunt you," she mutters. "Fine. You win. But what about this guy? Are you going to see him again?"

I feel the now familiar pang in my heart. Stupid.

"I don't think so. It wasn't that kind of thing."

Elle's sharp eyes take in my face and she nods. "That's cool," she says easily. And I know she can tell I'm not happy about how things turned out. "You're a modern woman. It's just sex."

She's right. But it doesn't feel that way.

Technically, I guess it was a one night stand. But aren't those supposed to be uncomplicated?

"Yeah," I agree, knowing I must sound despondent. I'm not that good of an actress. "Just sex."

Elle wraps an arm around my shoulders in comfort. We sit there like that for a few minutes, neither of us speaking.

Elle breaks the silence.

"You want me to go knee this guy in the balls?" she asks conversationally.

I let out a surprised burst of laughter.

"No," I say, shaking my head, grinning. "But I appreciate the sentiment," I add, leaning into her.

"Alright. Just let me know if you change your mind," she says with a smile. "I've been practicing just in case a ball target appears."

"You're a dangerous girl, Elle."

She flips her hair over her shoulder. "It's part of my charm. Now. On to more important things. Do you have a dress for the cotillion?"

I chuckle. I can always count on Elle to make me feel better.

"Haven't thought about it," I admit. I've had other things on my mind. A dress just doesn't seem all that important. "But what about you? Are you going? I don't want to be hanging out there alone while Grandmother shoves me into every rich guy in a three feet radius."

I roll my eyes, already imagining it. I'm really not looking forward to this.

Elle shakes her head regretfully. "No," she says with a sigh. "My stepmother can't afford a third dress and invite."

I frown. Elle's stepmother is loaded. I sincerely doubt ten dresses and invites would even begin to strain her budget.

"That's bullshit," I comment. "She just doesn't want you showing up your asshole stepsisters."

Elle snorts out a laugh and shakes her head. "Doesn't matter why, really. The end result is the same. I'm still not going," she says glumly, straightening in her seat.

I can tell she's really disappointed about it. It irritates the hell out of me that her stepmother would be so petty about something like this. It isn't like Elle's absence will fool anyone into thinking her stepsisters are anything but small minded idiots. And it isn't fair that I'm forced to go when I don't want to while she can't go even though she obviously wants to.

Life doesn't make any sense sometimes.

"I'm sorry Elle. I'd give you my spot if I could." I squeeze her hand.

She smiles at me, squeezing mine back. "I know. Thanks. But I'll be fine." She looks away, her usually animated face wan. "Maybe we should talk about something else."

I nod. I could use some lighter topics too.

So we talk about school, clothes, our parents. The usual stuff, taking our minds off everything else.

It helps. But we eventually have to go back to real life.

"I'll talk to you later," I say as we hug goodbye.

"Yeah," she agrees, hugging me tight. "See you soon."

We separate on the street with a wave.

I don't really pay attention as I walk, my mind occupied as my feet automatically take me back to Grandmother's building.

Things are changing fast. Life is happening. It's what I wanted. For the next chapter to start, to get away from the rut of my life. I just thought I'd feel like I'd have more control over it at this point. But it actually feels like I have even less.

The doorman scans me in and I take the elevator up to her place, where she's waiting for me as usual. Reminds me of Mom, actually. They may not be as different as they think they are.

A strange thing to think about when I consider their strained relationship. But maybe that's exactly why it is so strained.

"Why aren't you wearing the clothes I bought for you?" she demands as she sees my jeans and beat up sneakers.

"I was just going to the arcade. I didn't want to mess them up," I explain.

Or look like I was going to a polo match. I didn't ask for new clothes, and they really aren't my style at all. I've been doing my best to avoid wearing them.

Grandmother sniffs at my explanation. "Maybe you shouldn't be going to these arcades if you cannot dress properly there. Who were you with?"

"Elle," I say shortly, dropping down on the couch, resigned to another lecture. They just blend together at this point really.

"How many times have I told you, you can't be spending time with people like Elle." She shakes her head as she sits down across from me. "You need to surround yourself with people who have similar goals and aspirations. People who will lift you up, not pull you down."

Uh huh. Sounds like networking more than friendship. I wonder if Grandmother even has any real friends.

"Elle's one of my best friends, Grandmother," I say tiredly. "I can't just end things with her."

"Of course you can," she says stiffly. "And you need to. Dead weight must be cut free so you can reach your potential. I cannot support you if you continue to go against my wishes and sabotage your own future in this manner. I cannot give you a better life if you refuse to put in the work to improve yourself, young lady!"

I feel my stomach drop at that. Lose Elle? My friends are the only thing keeping me sane right now!

And I know Grandmother means what she's saying. She doesn't make idle threats.

I sit there, not knowing what to say. I know I'm not willing to lose my friends.

But, for once, luck is on my side. A musical chiming interrupts our conversation. Grandmother has a visitor. I breathe a silent sigh of relief for the temporary reprieve.

"Yes?" Grandmother calls out, frowning in irritation.

"There is a Zane here to see Ms. Ruby," the doorman explains in his cheerful voice. "Should I allow him entry?"

Grandmother's narrowed eyes meet mine as my heart clenches in my chest.

Zane.

Zane is here.

She is so not happy to hear that name.

And I don't know what to feel.