Royal Prick(27)

“Mmmm, Facebook official? That must mean real life official then.” We both laughed, our laughter echoing out onto the lake before us. It was so peaceful out here, the moon casting a shadow out onto the water, and the stars seemed brighter out here away from the glow of the city lights. I could stay here forever.

“I’m going to miss you next year.” Jordan sounded sad, and a pout formed on her face.

“Our friendship is stronger than any amount of distance that could separate us,” I assured her then turned my attention up to the stars. Jordan was all I had when it came to friends; or even people that didn’t judge me. Without her, the last couple of years would’ve been one hot ass mess.

“I’m not saying it’s not strong, I’m saying I’m going to miss you. As in miss seeing you every day. Miss our talks. Miss coming out here. Miss you in general.” Oh great, drunk Jordan was about to make her first appearance of the night.

“Don’t be so emotional, Jo! I won’t be that far away from you. A city over at most.” It wasn’t a lie, at least not really. I planned to stay close to home, however, that way before Royal came crashing into my life and my mom got a hard on about every little thing I did. I needed an escape, and college would give me just that. The glow of the moon settled onto us, the heat of the night causing sweat to form on the back of my neck. I knew Jordan was getting emotional; it was just the kind of drunk she was.

“I’m going to be okay, everything is going to be okay.” She sniffled through her sentence, and I couldn’t help but reach across the center console of the Jeep and wrap my arms around her, as much as I could in this small space. She leaned into my body, laying her head on my shoulder. We stayed like that for a short time before she pulled away from me wiping any stray tears from her eyes.

“Enough of the emotional bullshit from me. We have plans to fuck Sasha’s party up, so let’s get going.” She adjusted herself in the seat, and then took another chug from the Jack Daniel’s bottle before screwing the cap back on and placing the bottle in the backseat, out of sight and reach.

Just as I placed the car in drive to head toward the party, my phone chimed signaling that I had a text message. My head started to pound at the mere thought of it being my mother. The nagging and lecturing that would ensue if she found out what I was doing right this second.

Jordan grabbed my cell from the cup holder, her fingers entering the code with ease. Note to self, change password.

“It’s from Fuckboy.” I could hear the confusion in her voice.

“Who the hell is Fuckboy?” was the next question asked from her.

“What did he say?” I asked, instead of answering her. I decided the day that Royal hooked up with Sasha that his name would officially be Fuckboy. He fit the bill more than anyone else I knew.

Jordan shook her head. “He said: Don’t come to the party tonight. Stay home in the royal palace, princess.” She read the text word for word, more confusion settling into her features. Anger seared through me. Who the hell did he think he was telling me where I could and couldn’t go?

“Royal is the only guy that calls you princess, what the fuck? Why is his name Fuckboy? Are you fucking him? Did you seriously not tell me?” Jordan started, realization finally hitting her. Great! I rolled my eyes. I didn’t care if Royal didn’t want us— or preferably me— at the party. None of those things mattered to me. He should’ve known telling me not to go would only make me want to rebel against anything he had to say.

“Were not fucking, Jordan,” I corrected her, heading down the road that lead to Sasha’s house. You could see the dim glow of lights from her house way off in the distance.

“Whatever,” she scoffed. “You have his name as Fuckboy in your phone. Clearly something is going on, and I’m not in the loop about it.” I didn’t know what to tell Jordan about Royal’s name being Fuckboy in my phone because I didn’t see an issue with it. Just because his name had the word fuck in it didn’t mean we were automatically fucking.

“There is nothing going on, I promise. He fucks with me which is why I call him that,” I assured her, watching my speedometer rise as I placed my foot heavier against the gas pedal. The whiskey I drank earlier was finally starting to settle into my bloodstream, the warmth of it radiating throughout my body. I focused on getting to the party and nothing else.

Ten minutes later we pulled into the Master’s estate. A long, paved driveway led up to an enormous house set up on a hill. You could hear the loud pounding of the music from the start of the driveway.