Page 73 of The Life and (Medieval) Times of Kit Sweetly

Alex runs a hand through their hair. “We just don’t like that you lied to us.”

“And we’re allowed to be a bit mad,” says Layla. “Even though we love you, we can be mad.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “I just didn’t know what to do, okay? I got the email, but then the online campaign picked up steam. And we were having so much fun training. And I thought I’d figure out some way to make it work.”

“But you didn’t!” Mags snaps.

“I didn’t. But we can still do something! Maybe we can ask Len again? Or I can call Bettina back and see if we can all be on the news?”

“I’m out, Kit,” says Penny. “You know I adore you, but I’m not going to do this if there’s no point.”

“I’m out too,” Mags adds. “Maybe try not lying to your friends next time before roping them into your schemes.”

“Sorry, Kit,” says Lizzy. “If they’re all not doing it, I can’t. I need this job too. At least through the summer.”

That leaves Alex and Layla.

I look at both of them. “Please?” It comes out way smaller and squeakier than I intend.

Alex shakes their head and walks out. Their lips are pressed into a thin line, and I can tell they’re keeping back all sorts of things they want to say to me.

“Layla? Are you in at least? The two of us can ride out together.”

“Call me later,” says Layla, shaking her head. “I need some time to think. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. At the very least you tell your best friend about things like this. I gotta go, I’m back on admissions tonight.”

She leaves without a goodbye and I slump to the ground. Hot tears rise behind my eyes. For a minute, I think about texting Jett to tell him what happened. But he’ll hear soon enough, I’m sure.

I drag myself to my feet and trudge away from the roar of the crowd and the anger of my friends, slouching toward what is certain to be a terrible night in the stables.

35

THE HORSE STABLES ARE BEHIND THE CASTLE, FAR ENOUGH away that the animals can’t hear the crowd, and the crowd can’t smell the horses.

I sit on the concrete stairs at the back of the Castle, smoking the “lucky” cigarette Penny gave me and feeling anything but lucky. My hands shake as I inhale. My anger toward Len and my hollowed-out sadness is finally catching up with me.

It’s so incredibly, unspeakably awful that only cis men can fight as Knights. But apparently that’s the way it is, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I scroll through my phone as I smoke, doing everything but checking the views on my video. Who cares how many people have seen it and loved it? None of that can change what’s happening at the Castle.

There’s a new email in my inbox. From the Marquette Scholarship and Financial Aid Office. Maybe the universe will send me just a little bit of good news. Maybe? Is that too much to ask?

With a drag on my smoke, I click on it.

Ms. Sweetly,

Thank you so much for your application for the full-tuition scholarship. Although your grades and activities certainly reflect what we’re looking for, we only have a limited number of allowances and we had more than three hundred applicants this year. It was a very tough choice, but unfortunately, we cannot offer you a full-tuition scholarship at this time. Please feel free to pursue other avenues of financial aid… .

I swear and close the email. Of course it’s bad news. Of course. Why did I think—

“Whatcha doing out here, Sweetly?”

It’s Eric Taylor. The Green Squire, most loathsome of Layla’s suitors and general, all-around terrible dude. He steps past me, going to the bottom of the concrete steps.

I hold up my half-smoked cigarette. “Duh.”

“No, I mean, why are you out here instead of in your section? Is the rumor true? Did Len take you off the schedule and move you to the stable? Is that what his little pep talk to us all was about?” Eric sneers.

“That’s remarkably accurate for a rumor. But it’s only temporary.”

“Sure it is,” says Eric. He looks down at the plastic trash can full of urine-soaked wood shavings, sand, and straw I’ve dragged down the stairs. “Need some help dumping that?” He nods toward the stable-waste dumpster. I’ve already emptied one can into it since Len tasked me with stable work.