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“What… What are we going to do now, Angel?” I whisper into the phone. Marco hasn’t lifted his eyes from mine, the one constant in the middle of my hurricane.
Angel hesitates.
“What are we going to be?” I ask, when it’s obvious he doesn’t know how to answer. We’ve been friends, we’ve been enemies and everything in-between. But now, it’s different than everything we have ever been to each other.
“Well,” he says slowly, “if you are my sister, then what does that make me?”
“My brother,” I reply immediately. I know this. I’ve done this once before, with Hector. I got this. “Do you want to be brother and sister from now on? Or… crazier idea, we could try being friends.”
“Let’s not push it,” he says, but I can hear him smiling. “I watched you on the TV, you know. You are so brave. I couldn’t… I was such a coward for so many years. But you… You just went up there, in front of everyone, and shared your truth. Your heart. And everything that came out of it was beautiful.”
“Th-thank you,” I say, shakily.
“Well, it must be crazy at the airport right now, so I’ll let you go,” Angel says, and his voice has taken on this calm, quiet tone that I’ve never heard before. He sounds at peace with himself for the first time in ages. At peace with the world. “I’m here, in Asteria. I can be at the palace within a few minutes, if you want me to.”
“Please,” I tell him. “Please be at the palace when I get there.”
“Done,” he says immediately. “I’m calling my driver right now. Ok, talk to you later, Livy. I’m so…”
“Glad,” I finish for him. “I’m so glad I found you too.”
There’s silence for a moment, and I think he’s hung up, but then he says in this low, guttural voice:
“I almost lost you.”
“I didn’talmostloseyou,” I reply. “I did lose you. For years and years. It was horrible.”
“I know, I know,” he says. “It was horrible for me too.”
For some reason, that makes me smile even more widely.
“Good,” I tell him. “It should have been.”
/we the rotten royals/
Angel: Welcome to our new chat room, Rottens.
Olivia: If you keep calling us that, you’ll get punched in your delicate place.
Hector: Nice going, sis.
Angel: Ha! Bring it. It won’t be the first time, O.
Olivia: I’m no longer six years old, you know. I play basketball now.
Angel: Ooooh I’m scared now.
Olivia: As you should be.
Hector: You know what we should do instead of acting like two-year-olds? Arrange a match between all three of us.
Angel: What, basketball? Have you seen me? I don’t do sports.
Olivia: Did you say you were scared, little brother?
Angel: I am literally seven months older than you.
Hector: Ok, then let’s do something else together. Running, anyone?
