Her Royal Highness (Royals #2) - Rachel Hawkins Page 0,63

knows that it’s like the ground has shifted underneath me and Flora just the tiniest bit.

It makes me want to squirm with embarrassment, and I don’t even look over at Flora when she says, “For heaven’s sake, why? Quint and I were just getting to be friends. Isn’t that the point of being roommates?”

Dr. McKee’s smile tightens just a bit. “The point of being roommates is learning how to share space with other people in a congenial and respectful manner. Friendships are a lovely bonus, but not the point, no.”

This still feels weird to me, and I think Flora might keep fighting, but instead, after another long pause, she only shrugs. “Fine,” she says, and then she turns to me.

“Well.”

“Well,” I echo, very aware of Dr. McKee watching us.

“Suppose I’ll see you in class, Quint.”

“Yeah, same,” I reply, and I wonder if we’re supposed to shake hands or something.

But Flora just turns, heading up the stairs with her bag. When she’s out of sight, to my surprise, Dr. McKee reaches out and rests a hand on my shoulder.

“This is for the best, Miss Quint, I assure you. And this decision is not a reflection of your behavior at all, but more a . . . let’s say a precautionary measure.”

“Against what?” I ask, my fingers numb around the handle of my duffel bag.

“I told you,” she says. “You need to be careful in choosing friends here at Gregorstoun. Miss Baird is a lovely person, and her life is very glamorous indeed, but you never struck me as the person to get her head turned by that. It’s part of why you were assigned to be her roommate in the first place. And now . . .”

Cheeks hot, I heft my bag a little higher. “And now my head seems turned?”

“Flora’s mother thought it might be better for her to live with someone who’s not quite as attached to her,” Dr. McKee says, and okay, then. So that’s the real answer—this isn’t just a school decision, it’s basically a royal decree.

I remember Flora saying her mom thought her liking girls was a phase. Is that what this is about?

And if it is, what does that mean?

Moving rooms doesn’t take nearly as long as I think it will. That’s the deal we make, that I’ll go to Sakshi’s room while Elisabeth moves into Flora’s, and as I stack up the last of my books, Flora sits on the edge of her bed, watching me.

“She’s an actual child, you know. What’s-her-name. Lady McHorseyHorse.”

“We’re not supposed to use titles here,” I reply, “so it’s Miss McHorseyHorse.”

Flora snorts in response, and I slide a bookmark into the latest Finnigan Sparks novel before adding it to my stack. “Upside, you won’t have to look at so many rocks anymore, probably. Just plastic horses.”

“I like rocks,” Flora says, and I look over at her, eyebrows raised.

“You do not,” I say, and she flicks her hair over one shoulder.

“I am growing and evolving under your influence, Quint.”

She’s joking, but there’s still something in her face, something that makes me feel sadder than moving rooms should warrant. I’m getting to room with Saks, after all, and I love Saks. A month ago, I would’ve been thrilled at this switch.

So why am I so bummed out now?

I glance at my phone and see I have a few notifications. When I pick it up, I open to the picture of me and Flora, the one she posted just yesterday, and see a handful of comments. There’s Lee with GIRL, WHAT?? ALSO: BABE!!! and right under him, Saks has chimed in, MEGA BABE. It’s funny, seeing the two of them together there in the comments, two friends from two very different parts of my life, and I wonder what it would be like if they met one day.

I’m still trying to picture it—Lee and Saks hanging out—when I notice the last comment.

HeyJude02: You look so happy.

Looking at the picture, my cheeks pink, my mouth open as I laugh, Flora’s face right next to mine, I really do look happy. Really happy. Because I am happy.

Or was until I realized I’d be switching rooms.

Without letting myself overthink it, I reply to Jude’s comment.

Okay, as far as replies go, an emoji isn’t much, but I figure it’s something.

Clearing my throat, I pick up the last of my things. “So I’d say this has been fun, but it’s really only been a little bit fun, and mostly annoying,” I say, and Flora tilts her head,