Majesty

For some reason, her eyes kept drifting to a dark-haired boy ten yards before her. She could only see the back of him. But something—his sculpted calves, the bold, brisk way he walked—intrigued her. She found herself oddly curious to see his face.

Her heart picked up speed as the mystery guy turned toward Smythson Hall, which was so overgrown with ivy that it looked like it had sprouted organically from the ground itself. He was headed toward the same first-floor classroom that Nina was. She quickened her steps to catch up. He reached for the door—

Nina skidded to a halt, nearly biting her tongue in shock. It was Ethan Beckett. Jeff’s best friend.

She felt her face turning a mottled shade of red. Why hadn’t she recognized Ethan? They’d spent plenty of time together over the years, though it was always around the royal twins. Their paths had never crossed at school before.

“You’re in journalism class?” she blurted out.

“Nina. Nice to see you, as always.” He flashed his usual cavalier smile and held open the door for her. She avoided making eye contact as she slid past him to head inside.

Facing the whiteboard were at least thirty desks, arranged in rows. The room hummed with the overlapping conversations that always came after a school break.

Nina settled into a desk on the far right. Maddeningly, Ethan ignored all the empty chairs to take the one next to her. He nodded at her short hair. “I like the new look.”

“It was time for a change.” Nina tried to inject the statement with an air of finality, to indicate that he shouldn’t feel obligated to keep chatting, but Ethan didn’t take the hint. He leaned forward, bracing an elbow on his desk and angling toward her.

“So, Intro to Journalism,” he mused. “To be honest, I hadn’t expected to see you here. I’m surprised you’ll go anywhere near journalism, after what the media—”

Nina hissed through her teeth, cutting him off. She glanced furtively around the room, but everyone else was absorbed in their own discussions.

“I’m trying to put all that behind me,” she said tersely. The last thing she wanted right now was to revisit what the paparazzi had done to her family.

When she saw that Ethan was still looking at her, Nina sighed. “I’m taking this class because I’m trying to get a minor in creative writing, and this counts as a departmental credit. I want to be a writer someday,” she added, feeling oddly self-conscious at the admission. “Not that I’ve composed anything longer than a high school newspaper article.”

“Give yourself some credit. You used to write all those plays that you and Sam would perform out on the lawn by the pool.” Ethan’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Some of them were actually kind of funny.”

Nina couldn’t believe he remembered those. “I’m going to pretend that was a compliment,” she replied, with a touch of sarcasm.

The door swung open, and a woman with deep brown skin and a bright smile entered the room. Lacey Jamail: the youngest staff writer ever hired by the Washington Circular.

“Welcome to Intro to Journalism. Your first assignment will be done in pairs,” the professor said without preamble.

Everyone instantly broke out in conversation. Nina cast a quick glance around the room, but Ethan had already turned her way.

“Partners?” he asked.

“Sure,” Nina agreed, with less reluctance than she would have guessed.

Professor Jamail began explaining the assignment, waving her dry-erase marker like a baton as she spoke. Nina hurried to scribble down her words.

When class ended forty minutes later, she closed her spiral notebook and tossed it into her shoulder bag, only to find that Ethan was lingering near her desk.

“Are you headed to the library?” he asked.

“Actually, I was going to the student center for lunch.”

“Sounds good.” Ethan fell into step alongside her.

“I—okay.” Why was he suddenly acting like they were old friends? Sure, they’d known each other for years, but they’d never spent any time together without the twins there, too. Had Jeff asked him to check on her?

Nina used her meal points to pay for a sandwich, then found Ethan at a table near the window. As she sat down, he slid a bag of peanut M&M’s toward her. “These are for you.”

Now she definitely thought Jeff was involved. How else could Ethan have known about her love of M&M’s?

“You aren’t going to eat?” she asked, grabbing the M&M’s. It looked like Ethan hadn’t purchased anything except the candy.

“I had lunch in the dining hall earlier. But I’m happy to get a pizza if you’re one of those girls who feel self-conscious about eating alone.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Based on the way you used to put down waffles at the ski house, I don’t think you are.”

Nina rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get started. Do you have any ideas about who we should interview?” Their assignment was to coauthor a profile piece about someone on campus.

Ethan draped an arm over the back of his chair. “Can’t we talk about something else, at least until you’re done eating?”

She took a slow bite of her turkey sandwich. “If you think I’m going to do all the work on this project, you’re wrong.”

“You do all the work?” Ethan flashed a cheeky grin. “I thought I was the one doing all the work. I’ll have you know my GPA is a three-nine.”

Nina felt guilty for assuming he was a slacker. “Then why did you want to be partners with me?”

“You thought I wanted to be partners just so I could mooch off your assignment?”

“Not to brag, but I kick ass at assignments.”

Ethan let out an amused breath. “Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you, Nina. I mean, we’ve known each other since we were kids, but we don’t actually know each other well at all.”

She set down her sandwich and leaned her elbows forward onto the table. “What do you want to know?”

“I’m curious what really happened between you and Jeff,” Ethan said carefully.

Nina didn’t dignify that with a response—but she didn’t look away, either. She held Ethan’s gaze, her eyes blazing, until he was so discomfited that he glanced down at his lap.

“Sorry. That was out of line.”

“It was,” she said flatly.

“It’s just that I’m worried about Jeff. And he won’t talk about your breakup with me. He won’t talk about anything, really, since…”

Nina tried to grab hold of her anger again, but it had warped and mutated beneath a sudden wave of sympathy. When she thought of Jeff, her mind no longer went automatically to the night they’d broken up. Now all she saw was the look on his face at the Royal Potomac Races: a bewildered, searching look that had quickly faded, as if he’d been about to smile at her, then remembered that he’d lost her, too—on top of losing his dad.

The truth was, Nina had been longing to talk about Jeff for weeks, but there was no one she could really discuss him with. She didn’t want to worry her parents; they were still shaken after that whole paparazzi nightmare. Rachel had only met Jeff once, so she didn’t have any real insight into the situation. As for Sam—it had been hard enough to begin with, talking to Sam about her own brother. Now it seemed the height of selfishness, to bring this up while Sam was grieving. Nina’s romantic dramas felt small and unimportant next to everything her best friend had been through.

It felt a little strange, talking about this with Ethan, but he did know Jeff better than anyone. Maybe he would understand the strange paradox of Nina’s feelings.

“Things were never simple with me and Jeff after the news of our relationship got out,” Nina began. “It was fine when it was just us. But once everyone knew, so many things kept getting in the way.” Primarily, Jeff’s ex-girlfriend.

“The media really put you through hell, didn’t they.”

The usual sarcasm had evaporated from Ethan’s tone, and to Nina’s surprise, he seemed the handsomer for it. A bit of earnestness added depth to his brown eyes, smoothed away his careless smile.

“The thing is, I didn’t realize how much our breakup would impact my relationship with Sam, too.” Nina sighed. “I should have known better than to date my best friend’s brother. Clearly you know better,” she added, glancing back toward Ethan. “You never made a move on Sam, all these years.”

He scoffed at that. “Trust me, Sam isn’t my type.”

“What is your type?”

The question had come out oddly flirtatious, but to her relief, Ethan didn’t seem to notice. “It’s complicated enough being Jeff’s best friend. I don’t need to add another Washington relationship to the mix.”

“I know what you mean,” Nina admitted. “Honestly…sometimes I wonder why Sam and I are still friends.”

She felt a stab of disloyalty, saying this to Ethan. But then, who else could she talk about it with? Ethan was the only person who understood how it felt, being inextricably bound to the royal family without actually being one of them.

“Why do you say that?” Ethan asked. Not judgmental, but simply curious.