Page 88 of Scarred Crown

“There you are.” Vicky loops her arm through mine and bumps my hip.

Perfect timing. I’m not sure I could have watched Julia’s smile slip off her face a second time without someone else being responsible.

“Are you ready to go? I’ve got big plans for you.” Vicky rises on her toes and kisses the corner of my mouth.

“You’re leaving now? You’re not staying at all?” Julia’s tone is bewildered.

“My parents are away for the weekend.” Vicky’s tone implies Julia should be able to deduce what that means.

Julia flushes and presses her mittened hands to her cheeks. “Shame you still have to deal with security.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Vicky says. “They sweep the house and then leave us alone. Right, Nicky?”

Julia cringes and half turns away.

“They know how to make themselves scarce,” I agree. But the expression on Julia’s face is wrenching my heartstrings. If I didn’t know she was with Alex, I’d wonder if I’ve read her all wrong. Is she bothered by the idea of me having sex? Or the idea of me having sex with Vicky? She never cared before.

Vicky tugs me away, and reluctantly, I follow.

We’ve only gone a few steps, and the emotion on Julia’s face lingers at the forefront of my mind. Am I being an asshole? Should I have stuck around for a bit? Gone down the hill a few times for old times’ sake?

I turn back to tell her I’ll text her later, but when I do, Alex is in front of her, and he’s got her hand clasped in both of his. There’s a hint of a smile on her face, and the words die in my throat.

She doesn’t care that I’ve left after all. Perhaps she got what she’s wanted all along. My throat closes up, and I clear it, trying to banish the sensation. Feels like I’m drowning. My lungs are full, and I can’t quite inhale a full breath.

“I can’t wait to get you alone,” Vicky squeals when one of the security guards with us opens the rear door to the car.

Turns out Vicky really means that. She belts herself into the middle seat, and as the car drives out of the parking lot, she’s unzipping my pants.

Instead of stopping her or being embarrassed that security will get a clear view of her giving me head, I thread my fingers through her silky hair and close my eyes. As warm wetness envelopes me, I don’t allow my mind to drift back to the sadness I saw mirrored in Jules.

###

Christmas Eve dinner is one of the few times during the season when it’s just us around the oversized table in the formal dining room. Grandmother, grandfather, my parents, Brice, Alex, and me. Tomorrow, dinner extends to the rest of the family both near and far, but tonight, it’s just us. The quiet before the storm.

Julia texted me earlier about exchanging Christmas presents right after dinner. We’ve done it for years, Christmas Eve in the barn, just the two of us. I have something for her, but I had it made months ago—too long ago—and it didn’t occur to me to change it until it was too late.

I had our Tanzania school plans bound with an inscription at the front that reads, When you’re ready for this, let me know, which feels entirely too personal now. Even the name of the organization is ill-advised. Foolish and presumptuous and stupid.

I would have realized earlier that my present for Julia was inappropriate if I hadn’t been so stressed about what to get Vicky. Finding something that says, I enjoy having sex with you, and you give fabulous head, but we’re done at the end of senior year, was harder than I expected. Any other Christmas, Jules and I would have had that frank conversation, and she would have made fun of me and then helped me navigate the intricacies of a gift.

But I couldn’t bring myself to ask her. I can’t bring myself to talk to her about much of anything anymore, and when my life slows down enough, I sink into intense loneliness. Every time I have a problem, or something strange happens or even something funny, I pick up my phone to call her or text her. Then this wash of sadness rushes over me so completely that I put my phone down. What are we to each other anymore? Something has died between us, and I don’t know how to revive it.

I haven’t even texted her back about the exchange because I don’t know what to give her. Re-gift something? I’ve gotten lots of useless gifts from diplomatic trips over the years. Perhaps I can find something funny or clever in the loft.

I’m not giving her the bound Tanzania plans.

Grandmother has led the conversation through most of the main course, and I’ve let it drift around me. Honestly, I don’t feel like talking to anyone about anything.

As dessert is served, my mother turns to the three of us. She’s been so busy the last few months with royal commitments here and abroad that we haven’t seen her much. We’re all used to the ebb and flow of our family unit.

“Alex, you said you have somewhere to be after dinner tonight?” My mother dips her spoon into her crème brûlée.

“Meeting up late tonight with a friend to exchange gifts.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” my mother says. “Take security. I didn’t realize you exchanged presents with anyone local. Nick always exchanges with Jules, but you’ve never really done that.” She eyes him expectantly.

“Well,” he says and slides his gaze in my direction. “She’s not so much a friend as someone on the island I’m seeing. I didn’t want to say anything. It’s early days, but she’s a great girl. Perfect, actually.”