Page 36

THIRTY-SIX

DANNI

It’s never good to wake up to people whispering. At least, not when you’re expecting to wake up with your girlfriend lying next to you and the midmorning sun streaming in. Maybe, if you’re really lucky, the early afternoon sun. There is sun, I register, while I’m only half awake. But then I go on to further register that the whispers sound a hell of a lot like dread, which freaks me out enough that I’ve already started bracing myself by the time I open my eyes.

Rose and Molly are sitting on the floor with their backs to Rose’s wardrobe, and they snap their heads up when they hear me grunt.

“What?” I ask, and my voice comes out all thin and croaky. Oh god, fuck me, my head is pounding . I clear my throat and try again. “What is it?”

Rose crawls to my side and takes one of my hands in hers. “Danni, I’m really sorry,” she says, and my heart stops. My first, horrified thought is that something’s happened to Mom. Or maybe Rachel. Behind her, Molly looks at the ground like she can’t handle seeing my reaction to whatever Rose is going to say next, which only freaks me out more. “Someone took a video of Harriet kissing you last night. The screenshots are everywhere.”

Oh.

Oh.

For a second, I consider grabbing for my phone so I can see for myself, but then I realize I don’t want to. I don’t want to see a picture of myself tasting Harriet’s mouth, trying to figure out how to get away from her without causing a scene. I don’t want to know what half the country has seen. I don’t want to hear what they think about it, or about me. I only want to sleep. This is a step further than I can handle.

I roll onto my side and hook one arm under my pillow, drawing the blankets up over my shoulders. Rose and Molly give each other worried looks, like they think I’m about to have a nervous breakdown or something, which is probably fair, because maybe I am.

Rose squeezes my hand. “What do you want to do?” she asks. “It’s your call.”

“What is there to do?” I ask dully. It’s out now, isn’t it? And so, I guess, am I.

“You can still deny it,” Molly suggests.

Rose nods earnestly. “If you wanted to. You were drunk. You can just say you didn’t want to do it. It’s the truth anyway.”

“Or just say you were dared or something,” Molly adds. “I’ll back you up. Shit, I’ll say I’m the one who dared you, if you want.”

It’s just lying, isn’t it? That’s all I ever seem to do these days. Lie, and lie, and lie. And never because I actually want to. “I just… Jesus. I just wanted it to go away.”

The obvious answer is written all over their faces. It’s not gonna go away now. It never will. Last night happened, and rolling over in bed and pulling the blanket over my head won’t undo that.

Everyone’s watching me, whatever I do. Everyone’s listening.

“Does everybody hate me?” I ask in a small voice. I assume there’s already been some sort of reaction online. Comments, posts, articles, even. The thought of what they must be saying right now makes me want to climb into the core of the earth and hide there until it’s over.

Rose is soft. “No, no, nothing like that. People are curious, maybe. But everyone doesn’t hate you.”

But what does that mean, exactly? Just because society isn’t out for my blood today, that doesn’t mean shit when it comes to my future. A lot of people are probably just giving me the benefit of the doubt before calling for my public crucifixion.

And what will the palace think? It’s not like I kissed Rose on camera or anything, but the online rumor mill is still going to have a freaking field day with this.

“Whatever you want to do, I’m with you,” Rose says. “If anyone says a word to you, even a word, they have to face me. It’s you and me, okay?”

I look from her, to Molly on the floor, and then to the window.

“What should I do?” I ask.

Nobody replies.

There’s a knock on the door. We all jump, then Molly gets up and opens the door a crack. Eleanor peeks around it, then barges in with wide eyes. “Danni,” she says to me. “What is going on?”

“Eleanor, don’t make this worse,” Molly says, closing the door.

“Are you gay?” Eleanor asks. “Or were you just messing around with Harriet?”

“Okay, we need to have a discussion about tact,” Molly interrupts. “It’s clearly out of your grasp today.”

“I’m bi, okay?” I snap. The words are metallic on my tongue. I’m so freaking nauseous. I’m not sure if it’s the situation or the hangover. Probably both.

Eleanor puffs out her cheeks. “You know, I wouldn’t have called it,” she says after a long silence. “You don’t seem into girls.”

Rose takes my hand calmly, threading our fingers together. “Is that the case, Eleanor? What does that seem like, pray tell? Me?”

Eleanor laughs. “ No. ” Then something must click because she does a double take at Rose like a cartoon character or something. It’d be funny if this weren’t the worst thing I’ve ever lived through. “No? No!”

Rose leans an elbow on the bed next to me. “You know,” she says to me, as casual as if she was bringing up what she ate for breakfast. “I think we did a better job at hiding than we ever gave ourselves credit for.”

I gape at her. As far as I knew she’d had no intentions of coming out to anyone else anytime soon. Did she just do it to take the spotlight off me? Even if she could only do that here, in our little group?

Eleanor shoots an accusing look at Molly, like she’s asking if she knew this. Molly gives a quick nod, and Eleanor slumps to sit next to her on the floor. “Well,” she says. “This is… different.”

“Different from what, you?” Rose asks in a warning voice, her expression suddenly hard.

Eleanor holds her hands up in surrender. “I don’t mean it like that. You just have to give me a second, okay? I’ve known you for years and this is kind of a bombshell.”

“It kind of doesn’t affect you,” Molly mutters.

And, oh my god, I can’t help it. I burst out laughing. All three girls look at me as though I’ve officially lost it. Maybe I have. Here comes the prophesized nervous breakdown. “Oh, shit,” I cackle, wiping a tear away with my fist.

Rose’s phone starts ringing. She throws it clean across the room like it burned her, and I laugh even harder. “Answer it, you idiot,” I force out.

Looking like she’d rather answer a ringing rattlesnake, she retrieves it. “It’s William,” she says.

Molly swears in a low voice and Eleanor pulls a sympathetic face. Rose sighs and answers it, leaving the room. I guess she doesn’t want me to hear whatever William has to say. Which, obviously, only makes me want to hear it more.

We can hear her just outside the door, but her voice is too muffled to make much out. I sit up in bed, staring at my hands, because I can’t bring myself to look at the other two right now.

“So how long?” Eleanor asks.

Nowhere near long enough for it to be over already. “On and off since November.”

“November?”

“Pretty much.” My cheeks are so hot I’m pretty sure they’re glowing molten.

“And Harriet? She’s like that, too?” Eleanor directs this one at Molly. “What, did we meet all our friends at a gay-straight alliance I’ve forgotten about or something?”

“People are gay sometimes, Eleanor,” Molly says. Eleanor stares at her a little too long, and she rolls her eyes. “I didn’t mean me .”

“Well, can you blame me for wondering?” Eleanor asks. “And how long has Rose been queer?”

“Since birth, I would imagine,” Molly replies dryly.

Eleanor shrugs. “I just want to get up to speed. I just found out I’ve been third-wheeling two of my best friends for half the school year and I want to figure out how I missed it. And why am I the only one who didn’t know?”

Rose reenters the room, her face grim. “It’s a media circus on the front grounds,” she says. “They’re interviewing every student they can get their hands on. Apparently, the headmaster’s sent them away twice and they keep coming back.”

“What do you think they’re saying?” I ask, feeling numb.

“We’ll go out there,” Eleanor said. “Me and Molly. It’s better if they speak to us than the other students, right?”

Rose flops on the end of the bed. “It depends what Danni wants us to say.”

“Us?” Molly repeats, sounding confused.

“Me?” I croak.

“You. This is about you.”

“This is about us. You know you’ll be brought up, Rose.”

Rose nods tersely. Oh, she knows. This is the part where she tells me what I’m cleared to say about her, right? My orders of the day from the palace?

“It is about us,” she agrees. “But it’s mostly about you. What do you want to say?”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised, and I take my time responding. I want to make sure I’m totally, definitely sure before the words leave my mouth. “I’m not going to fight it,” I say. “You can tell them I’m bi.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize that’s not what I want. Since the start of all this, I’ve had barely any control. I’ve been forced to hide my relationship with Rose. Dragged along to surprise double dates. Kissed by Harriet. Outed by whoever took that video of us. So, even though the thought of talking to a bunch of reporters about something this personal makes me want to pass out, or puke, or both, I have to. Something about this has to be in my control. So, I tell the girls I want to speak for myself. Rose gives me a super long look—like she isn’t sure I’m in my right mind—but she doesn’t argue.

Molly is the only one brave enough to bring it up. “And if they ask about Rose?”

“You don’t have to lie,” Rose says quickly. “You can just say you’re not allowed to comment about me. The palace can release a statement about me later.”

But she has to know as well as I do how bad an idea that would be, how damning it would look to anyone already suspicious.

“Rose,” I say tightly to Molly, “is my very good friend. Like you and Eleanor. We’re a group of girls at boarding school. We’re close. But Rose is straight.”

There’s so much relief in Rose’s eyes I want to wrap her in a hug and assure her that she’s completely safe with me, and that I’d never do anything to hurt her. She can give me a loaded gun if she wants, but I’d never pull the trigger. Not now, and not in a hypothetical future where she’s only somebody I once knew. Like she said. It’s me and her.

“Then I’ll say the same,” Rose says.

Molly gives her a sharp look. “ You will?” she asks.

Rose faces her with a look that definitely would’ve shut me up right away if she’d sent it my way. Molly obviously feels the same, because she looks away and shrugs, as if to say, “Whatever, not my business.” Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Rose is a princess, someone who’s had a lifetime of bossing people around and getting her own way. This is not one of those times.

I’m not sure why, exactly, Molly’s so confused by the idea of Rose speaking to the media, but I’m so overwhelmed by what’s about to happen to me that I forget about my confusion as quickly as it hits.

“Can you guys wait outside for a minute?” Rose asks Eleanor and Molly.

As soon as we are alone Rose begins to riffle through her wardrobe.

“What are you looking for?” I ask, but she’s already got what she was after. Her school cape.

“Wear this,” she says. “And give me yours once you’ve changed.”

So, I’ll be coming out to the world, while denying I have any history with Rose, while wearing her cape, after spending the night in her bed.

And she’ll be doing the same. Minus the coming out part.

I guess she’s searching for a shred of control, too. For a tiny bit of the truth to put on display, even as we loudly lie. It doesn’t erase it, or make it better. But I guess it’s all we’ve got to cling to.

I head back down to my room to change, and by the time I’ve finished, Rose, Eleanor, and Molly are waiting for me out front, wearing their full uniforms as well. I pass Rose my cape. Mine’s in better condition than hers—I guess I grew up doing my own laundry a lot of the time while Mom worked late, and Rose came to school after a lifetime of her clothes appearing washed and pressed in her wardrobe like magic. Her cape is covered in lint and has some deep creases across the back from being left on the floor for too long.

We head off in a tight group, the four of us. There’s a whole crowd of students hanging out at the front of the school just inside the gate. Some are talking to journalists but most are just watching. Waiting, I realize. For me.

I’m flanked by Molly and Eleanor, and Rose is on Molly’s other side. We have to be more careful than ever not to touch.

But I have her cape.

When the students notice us they part, forming a sort of hallway of bodies for us to pass through. It’s like being on the worst red carpet imaginable.

We’re swamped by the press at the gate. The majority of journalists head for Rose and me. A couple of wily ones think to speak to Eleanor and Molly. They won’t have the bigger story, but their quotes will be more exclusive. Props to them. Sort of.

I end up separated from Rose. And that’s when the fear hits.

I’m bombarded by camera flashes, turning the world a bright white. Everyone’s yelling at me at once, and my already-throbbing headache is building with a vengeance. I stand without saying a word, because what the hell do I say? The mini-speech I came up with in the room earlier has vanished from my mind, and I think it was only about Rose and me, anyway. But most of this has nothing to do with Rose, right? Most of this is me telling the world I’m bi.

Holy shit. I haven’t even told Mom. Everything’s been so panicked and scrambled and confused that the reality of this has only hit me right now.

I wanted to come out, I think. But this is definitely not what I had in mind.

They’re faceless, the people in front of me. Their figures have no details. They blend together, blurred by those blinding lights.

“Danni, tell us about—”

“Thea Brunswick from the Midday Spectator, Danni, and I was wondering if—”

“Is it true that you and Molly Kwon—”

Then someone shouts it, clear as anything. “Were the photos fake, Danni?”

I look sort of in the direction of the voice. This is it. I can’t even see who I’m speaking to, for god’s sake. It doesn’t matter, though. Not really. I’m not speaking to them. I’m speaking to everybody in the country.

Here we go. “No. They weren’t fake,” I say in a shaking voice. I almost can’t get the words out.

“Are you straight?”

This is cruel. It’s so fucking cruel. Being asked this so bluntly, by the same people who will run stories with photos outing me no matter what I say right now. Like it’s mine to share. But it isn’t mine. If it was mine, it would have happened exactly when I was ready. It would’ve been to my loved ones, not to these strangers just so I can take some sort of control of the narrative before they run off with it.

“No,” I say. “I’m not straight.”

There.

It’s done.

My head swims so badly I almost miss the next question.

“What about Edmund?”

What the hell do I say to that? I should’ve taken more time to prepare. I know they can see how guilty I am. I know my face is bright red, and my eyes are glassy, and they’ve got it all on camera, as I say, “No comment.”

“Danni, there have been rumors that you’re in a romantic relationship with Princess Rosemary. Can you comment on that?”

I force my face to relax. I need to look like they’ve stopped asking serious questions and started on the really ridiculous shit. And for god’s sake, for once, I can’t cry.

“Rose is my friend,” I say, concentrating as hard as I can on being casual. “And that’s all. She’s now aware I’m not straight, and she’s handled the information with the respect that I’ve come to expect from her. I’m very lucky to have someone so supportive as a friend of mine.”

“How close are you with Harriet?”

Of course they know her name. They’ve been speaking to our classmates all morning. Still, the question takes me by surprise, and my lip curls. “I’m not,” I spit. “Thank you for your… questions.” Is that how you end an interview? It is now.

The crowd starts to move. The journalists have what they wanted. Now it’s a competition to see who can break the story first.

If I’m lucky, I’ll get the chance to tell Mom before they can.

Gripping onto the sides of her skirt, Rose stands alone to my left, breathing heavily. Farther away from us, Molly and Eleanor have found each other.

I make it to Rose. “How’d yours go?” I ask in a low voice, trying to look as platonic as possible.

“It hurt. More than I expected.”

“I know,” I agree.

It kind of feels like I’ve been fed to the lions in the Colosseum with my classmates as the spectators. Molly and Eleanor join us and block us from the view of the other students. “You know what,” Molly says. “It’s lunchtime.”

“Right,” Eleanor agrees hastily. “Let’s go eat. We’re done out here.”

Rose and I give each other dark glances. It’s not done by a long shot. But lunch does sound nice. Too bad I don’t have time to eat if I want any shot of being the one to share today’s breaking news with Mom. So, I let the others go off to lunch and head to my room to call her. When I check my call log, though, I realize I have two missed calls. One from Rachel, and one from Mom.

I couldn’t even have this, huh?

Mom answers on the second ring. “Danni, honey?”

“Hi.”

“Hi, sweetie.” She takes a deep breath and laughs a little. “I saw something on the news just now.”

“It’s true,” I say flatly before she spends too much longer trying to spit it out. “I’m sorry.”

When she replies, her voice is hard. “Don’t you ever apologize, Danni. I don’t want to ever hear you do that again. Not to me, not to anybody.”

I try to reply, but I’m starting to feel like I might cry any second, so I don’t say a word.

She continues. “I love you more than anybody in the entire world. You’re my girl and I am so, so proud of you. Every day you make me prouder. That’s all I have to say.”

I press my lips together, feeling overwhelmed tears threatening to spill. I draw a shaky breath, trying to think of what to say.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

I shake my head a few times, trying to find my voice. When I open my mouth, a sob bursts out instead of words. “Not really,” I manage.

“I’d like you to come home for the week. You need to be here with us. You need space.”

“I can’t, Mom. I have practice exams coming up. There’s too much going on.”

“Screw exams,” she says, catching me by surprise. “You won’t be taking anything. You’ve been through trauma. There’s an exemption for that. I’ll speak to the headmaster—”

“I don’t want you to speak to him about this—”

“We’ll lie, then. Say Dennis died and I need you home for the funeral arrangements.”

“Mom!”

“Okay, maybe not Dennis. That’s easily fact-checked. How about Auntie Kylie?”

“Mom,” I said, cracking a reluctant smile. “Thank you. But I don’t want to go home. I want to stay here. I have to.”

“Well, if you want to, that’s one thing. But don’t you think you have to. Your grades aren’t worth your well-being.”

“Okay, Mom. Thank you.”

“I love you, Danni. Please don’t forget you can call me whenever you need to. It doesn’t matter what the time is or what day it is. Call me.”

“I will.”

“Promise me?”

“Promise.”

“Okay. And, sweetie… you don’t need to tell me everything now. When you’re ready. But if you have a girl in your life, and you want me to know her, I would love to meet her.”

I want to cry, because there’s nothing I want more in the world than to introduce Rose to Mom. But Mom doesn’t mean Rose. She means Harriet. She thinks Harriet is my girlfriend.

“Sure,” I say. “Maybe.”

With that we say goodbye, and we disconnect.

I put the phone on my bedside table and curl up to stare at the wall.