Princess: I’m not ignoring you, Irvin. I’ve been busy.
Me: What did you do this winter break?
Princess: You’re not my man. I don’t have to answer you. It’s none of your business.
I laugh inwardly. It’s cute that she thinks we’re not dating. She’s going to be singing a different tune tonight.
Me: Wear something sexy tonight. I’ll cook you your favorite—grilled scallops and baked potato.
Princess: You’re engaged, remember? I told you before, I don’t date men who are taken.
Me: I broke it off with her. I promised you I would last year at the Halloween festival, remember?
She says “Oh” out loud.
Princess: Why did you break it off with her?
She must’ve forgotten what I promised her. I ignore her message in my reply.
Me: I also remember chasing you around the clown house and eating your pussy. I guess you forgot about that, huh?
She sends me another message.
Princess: Yeah, I remember. But this isn’t going to work out. We come from two different worlds. You have a duty to fulfill to the American Billionaire Club, and you have to find a wife to run the club. I’m moving to the West Coast to continue my education after graduation. We will never work out.
As if distance will keep me from her. I’ll cross any boundary just to get what I want. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s mine. Always will be. I don’t give a fuck about the American Billionaire Club and their stupid-ass rules.
Me: Meet me at the mansion at 9. I’m not asking again.
Lilac’s lips twitch, but she sets her phone back on the desk without replying.
Professor Kyle storms into the class. “Get to class, Irvin Ashford.”
The door slams in my face. Lilac better show up tonight, or I’ll find her.
Lilac
Sitting in the bathtub as the lukewarm water soaks my skin, I reread the message thread between Irvin and me.
I nibble on my lip.
I don’t know if I should see him, and I’m not going to lie, I did miss him these last few months, but we don’t have a future. He knows it, and I know it.
I grip the edge of the tub hard until my knuckles ache. Today has been a depressing day. It’s the anniversary of my parents’ death, and I still remember the smell of gunpowder and fireworks. The life leaving my mother’s eyes and my father’s brain matter smeared across the wall.
I should use Irvin to help me get over the guilt of what happened. It was my fault. I don’t know why I was the only one who survived while they didn’t. Why does bad luck follow me everywhere I go?
Tears gather in my eyes, but I wipe them away, clutching my chest.
I decide I’m going to meet him. He has a stash of weed somewhere in his room, and I can use that to ease the pain. He promised me he’d cook me food, but I’m not in the mood to eat.
Once the water turns my skin pruney, I haul myself out of the tub, pat myself dry with a towel, then throw on an onyx-colored turtleneck, black-and-white striped jeans, and charcoal suede boots. I fumble with the zipper as knots grow in the pit of my stomach. Then, to finish it off, I spray perfume all over my clothing.
I march to the coat hutch, wiggle my dark coat over my body, then stroll out the door.
I hike through the woods and down the path that leads to the mansion where Irvin lives.
The sun creeps between bare oak trees, and the cold nips at my face, burning the tip of my nose. My boots crunch the leaves. Owls screech. My pulse thumps. Leg muscles cramp.
