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His father sat back and crossed his legs. “You signed a contract.”
“Dad, you might be able to ignore your feelings, but I can’t.”
“That’s enough. You’ve had your fun being a disc jockey. Now think of someone other than yourself for once.”
Arlo stood and leaned his forearm on the mantle above the fireplace. “For once… For once, can’t you see things from my perspective? I know you’re still mad that I went to America, but I had to go. I had to figure out who I was apart from the island. I had to prove that I could earn something for myself. That I could make my own way. Can’t you understand that?”
Silence stretched between them.
“I guess not.”
Arlo turned to leave as his mom said, “We do understand. That’s why your father wrote the letter.”
She strode toward him. He hadn’t heard her come in.
Arlo sighed, exasperated. “What are you talking about? What letter?"
“The letter to UCLA admissions.”
“What?”
His mom took the seat next to his father. “You and your sister had good grades, but you were practically homeschooled. Yes we had the best tutors in the world, but you wanted to be normal so badly that you didn’t mention any of that on your application.”
“How do you know what was on our application? We sent those without telling you.”
“Honestly, it was always adorable that you and your sister thought you could do anything without us knowing.” Francisca chuckled, then continued. “We knew how badly you wanted to go to college in America and that you’d be devastated that you didn’t get in. So, your dad wrote a letter and then flew to UCLA. He met with the dean of admissions and explained why you both deserved a chance. Not based on your royal status, but because of your character and your grades.”
Arlo felt… He wasn’t sure. Upset? Angry? Shocked.
“We didn’t get in? You helped Mariana and I get into UCLA?”
He looked between his mother and father. “Why? Why did you help us? You were both upset that we wanted to leave the island.”
“We weren’t mad that you wanted to leave. We were scared… of losing you…”
Arlo’s chest tightened.
“We knew you both needed space from the royal spotlight, so as much as we were afraid of what it could mean… we knew you needed to go.”
Arlo looked at his parents. “But then… we made your biggest fear come true.”
Francisca brought her interlaced fingers to her chin. “Letting go of you kids was and is… excruciating. I’ve never been good at it… which is why I’ve probably made everything worse and why you haven’t wanted to come back.” Francisca sniffled. "I didn’t mean to be overbearing. I didn't know how to just come out and say… I missed you. We missed you—your father too.”
Arlo looked over at his dad for confirmation.
King Paulo gave a slight nod. “It’s been good to have you home.”
Arlo leaned against the wall. “It’s been good to be home.”
Clearing his throat, his father said, “If you love us and the island, then you need to go through with the wedding. You need to marry Ada.”
Arlo cringed. “What?”
His mom nodded. “You signed a contract. The wedding must go on.”
Arlo shook his head and stormed out. His hands were shaking.For a second, I thought… I thought they were going to put aside their crowns and just be parents.Arlo let out a sad laugh as he walked down the hall.When will I realize that royal duties will always come first to them?
Approaching Ada’s dressing room, he knocked on the door.
