wide with alarm.
“What are you doing here?”
She wraps her arms around herself, her words sounding like an accusation.
I straighten my spine, my head cocking. “I could ask you the same question. I was just out here, minding my own business. You are intruding into my space, technically.”
Her eyes narrow as she takes me in. I’m dark haired and scrawny, probably only emphasized by the fact that I’m wearing a huge coat.
“Who are you?” she asks.
My neck heats. “My name is Lars.”
I see the moment that she realizes who I am; something clicks and there is a second of acknowledgement in her clear blue eyes.
“Ah. You’re the prince.”
My expression sours. “Yes. Go ahead, make your jokes.”
Her eyebrows rise. “I’m sorry?”
I turn away, looking out toward the mountains. “You heard me. That’s what I’ve heard from everyone in this school so far. So go ahead, question my lineage. Talk about how my parents planned well when they decided to have me. My brother is the heir, I’m just the spare.”
I spit on the ground, bracing for whatever she is about to say. My angry breath leaves me mouth in distinct huffs. I’m certain that she’s about to tear into me, tell me I barely qualify to be a prince.
“It’s my second week here.”
My eyebrows rise; I look over at her, thrown off by her words. “What?”
She shivers, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I’m new here. If the other children tease you, they certainly don’t share it with me.” Her mouth twists. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a scholarship student. A charity case. In the pecking order, you definitely come above me.”
My mouth opens. I’m not quite sure what to make of this little spitfire. She huffs a laugh, turning away.
“Great, now you too. Everybody at this school looks down on me because I am not a titled heir with a huge fortune. Even the teachers look at me with pity.”
She says it with such anger and conviction, her hands balling into fists.
I pull a face. “I wasn’t thinking that.”
She frowns. “You weren’t?”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t. I was just wondering two things.”
She looks uncertain. “What?”
I exhale, feeling a little shaky. “First, I was wondering if you were ever going to tell me your name.”
Two spots of bright pink appear in the apples of her cheeks. “I’m Pippa. Pippa Welch.”
I step forward, holding out my hand. She looks at me for a second, as if she’s trying to decide whether I’m serious or not. Then she takes a couple of steps, taking my hand. I shiver as electricity washes over my skin.
From this close, I can make out the freckles that span the bridge of her nose.
I give her the tiniest smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Pippa.”
She sniffs, taking her hand back and shivering again. “What was the other thing that you were wondering?”
My smile broadens. “I was wondering if you wanted to head inside.” I pause, scrunching up one side of my face. “I have a hot plate and some cocoa in my room. It’s contraband, obviously—“
She cuts in. “I’m freezing. So yes, cocoa sounds nice.” She turns around, moving toward the door. “Where is your room?”
I blush. It just now occurs to me that I have invited her to my room and… well, she’s a girl.
A pretty girl.
“It’s in the east wing,” I say, following her.
She looks back at me, wrinkling her nose as she pulls the heavy wooden door open. “I’ve never snuck into a boy’s room, much less a prince.”
Just now, I have a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. Pippa’s eyes sparkle mischievously. I clear my throat, trying to come up with a proper response to that.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” I end up saying.
She wrinkles her nose, amused, and tosses her upper curls as she heads inside. And I follow her, feeling my whole world shift on its axis.
It takes me a few hours to realize what the feeling fluttering around my stomach is: stupid, blind, complete love.
God help me.
Lars
Modern Times
I sit at the far end of a dimly lit, crowded cocktail bar, drumming my fingers on the counter and looking at my watch. It’s getting late, well past midnight.
Pippa was supposed to meet me here at exactly twelve.
The bar is noisy. The patrons are talking and laughing over the sophisticated notes of jazz in the background.
Any minute, I expect to see Pippa: tall, lithe, and redheaded. From this distance, I’ll be able to see the two spots in the apples of