American Royals

She tore herself reluctantly from bed and went to unlock the door, hitting the light switch so the fluorescent bulbs flared to life.

“Nina!” Sam tilted forward a little, as if she were about to throw her arms around her friend in one of her usual hugs, then seemed to change her mind. She stood uncertainly in the doorway.

Suddenly, Nina saw her room through Samantha’s eyes. It was smaller than Sam’s closet, and had the worn, lived-in look that comes from decades of students. Note cards were tacked over every last inch of the wall, covered in Nina’s blocky handwriting. She was always writing things down: literary quotes, reminders to herself. Alongside the note cards were collages of pictures—of Nina with her parents, or hanging out with her college friends. There wasn’t a single photo of Nina and Sam.

Sam had noticed; Nina saw from the way she pursed her lips. But she didn’t say anything.

“Hey, Sam. Um, you can come in.” Nina gestured to the twin bed, which was starting to look a little rumpled and stale. Sam climbed obediently up onto the blue paisley bedspread, but Nina had gone to stand near the window, to peek behind the shade. The reporters were all still gathered there, their lenses gleaming hungrily in the afternoon sun, though they had taken a few respectful steps back in deference to Sam’s bodyguard, who stood at the door with arms crossed.

“I kept expecting to hear from you,” Sam said quietly, as Nina came to perch on the bed.

“I sent you a text.” Nina glanced at the carpet, evading Sam’s gaze. She knew she owed her friend more than that single message. But every time she’d pulled out her phone to call Sam, she’d thought of how the conversation would go—the apology she would have to give, for keeping this a secret—and had put it off. She had plenty to worry about without adding Sam’s hurt feelings to the mix.

Sam leaned forward, her legs crisscrossed before her. “Why didn’t you feel like you could tell me about you and Jeff?”

So many reasons. Nina tried to think of the simplest. “I didn’t know what would happen between us,” she said honestly. “I didn’t want to make things weirder than they needed to be, in case it didn’t work out.”

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. “So if you guys had broken up before this happened, you would never have told me?” Sam asked, visibly hurt. “I keep thinking about all the things we did in Telluride … that comment I made, about how I wanted to find Jeff a girlfriend. Were the two of you laughing at me behind my back the entire time?”

Nina blinked. We weren’t thinking of you at all, she wanted to reply. Didn’t Sam understand that this hadn’t been all fun and games for her—that it had made her miserable?

Sam sighed. “I’m just saying that I’m your best friend, and I had to find out from the tabloids, the same as the rest of the world.”

“You’re also Jeff’s twin sister,” Nina felt the need to point out. “He kept this from you just as much as I did.”

“He and I have already talked about it,” Sam informed her. “About twenty minutes after the article came out.” She didn’t need to say more; the implication was clear. She thought Nina was a bad friend for avoiding her these past few days.

Nina couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “Sorry I haven’t prioritized your feelings while my life was falling to pieces around me.”

Sam winced at her tone. “Right. It just … hasn’t been the easiest week for me, either. Teddy and Beatrice got engaged. They’re going to announce it at a press conference soon.” She sighed and glanced down. “I really liked him, you know? I still like him. I get that Beatrice has to marry someone, because she’s the future queen, and that her choices are limited. But couldn’t she have chosen someone else?”

Nina stared at her friend. “Seriously?”

“I know, isn’t it messed up?”

“I’m talking about you, Sam! That’s really why you came by?” Nina’s words came out quickly, fueled by an anger that surprised her. “I thought you wanted to talk to me about Jeff, or the fact that most of America apparently hates me. But instead of coming here to support me, you’re actually here because you wanted to vent about Beatrice and Teddy!”

Sam bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I just … needed a friend right now.”

“So do I,” Nina said meaningfully.

Sam’s eyes darted toward the blacked-out window. “The paparazzi will lose interest soon,” she promised, clearly trying to be helpful. “They’ll move on to another story and stop hanging out here. I mean, they’ll still take pictures of you at official events, but you’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t want to ‘get used to it’!” Nina clawed angrily at her bedspread, her fists closing around the printed fabric. “I just want things to go back to normal!”

“Normal meaning a world where you’ve conveniently erased me from the story of your life?” Sam nodded toward the photos on the wall.

Nina had been curious how long it would take Sam to ask about those.

“It’s just—no one at school knows I’m friends with you. It seemed easier not to tell everyone. Less complicated,” Nina said quickly, wondering why she felt the need to explain herself to Sam, anyway.