Her Royal Highness (Royals #2) - Rachel Hawkins Page 0,7
three years ago, and they had Gus last year. It was definitely a change, going from being an only child with a single parent to having a stepmom and a baby in the house, but it’s also been a good change. I walk over to the kitchen table, picking up a can of cereal puffs and dumping out a handful for Gus, and I’m rewarded with another smile. My whole heart melts as I smooth a hand over his reddish hair. Gus looks way more like my stepmother than my dad or me—both of us have fairly boring brown hair and eyes.
He’s also just about the best thing in my life, so my desire to try out school in another country has nothing to do with feeling out of place or unwelcome.
“Scarecrow, I think I’ll miss you most of all,” I coo to Gus now, who babbles back, shoving a handful of the puffs into his mouth, and I sigh. “I don’t think he gets my pop culture references yet.”
“Give the Padawan time,” Dad replies, and I grin at him.
He’s a good dad. A great one, even, and the idea of leaving him, even temporarily, is the only black cloud hovering over my perfect plan. Well, leaving him and Gus and Anna. Spending my senior year abroad would be a lot easier if I didn’t like my family, I guess.
“This isn’t about anyone but me,” I say to Dad now, and that’s almost totally true. I mean, there are parts of it that are also about Jude, but I still haven’t decided to get into that with Dad. It’s not that he wouldn’t be okay with me liking girls—it’s just that things have felt complicated and messy, and I don’t really want to talk to him until I’ve sorted it all out in my own mind.
Jude has texted me a few more times since I saw her and Mason by Aunt Vi’s apartment. I haven’t known how to reply, so I convinced myself that I am too busy to answer her anyway, and that I need to focus on Gregorstoun.
Which isn’t a total lie. I mean, I’ll be leaving home and everything familiar. Yes, it might be scary. Yes, there is a part of me that is maaaaaaybe, possibly running away. But there’s also a part of me that gets more and more excited every time I look at the school’s brochure.
Sitting back at the table, I move a place mat out of the way to spread out my Scotland School File again, tapping my fingers over the different pictures. St. Edmund’s in Edinburgh would be cool. Living in a city that’s in the shadow of an ancient volcano? Definitely something different.
Then there’s St. Leonard’s, a big sprawling redbrick building on the greenest grass I’ve ever seen. It’s not far from St. Andrew’s, which is also beautiful, and wow, they’re really big on saints in Scotland, I realize.
Gregorstoun is a former manor house, this gorgeous brick building rising out of the hills, with ivy-covered walls and a very Hogwarts vibe. I fell in love with it the first time I saw it, idly searching schools in Scotland over a year ago.
I pull the paper closer to me, then realize it’s gotten quiet in the kitchen.
When I glance up, Dad is looking at me, a funny expression on his face.
“You’re not about to tell me I look like Mom, are you?” I ask, and he smiles a little, shaking his head.
“No, you actually look like Vi—which, remembering her teenage years, gives me heartburn.”
Then he points his spatula at my papers.
“Go ahead and apply,” Dad says. “If you get the aid, we’ll deal with the rest of it.”
“When I get it,” I correct, picking up my pen and pointing it at Gus, who crows at me before tossing his spoon to the floor.
“When.”
CHAPTER 5
For the next two weeks, there’s always a little bit of my head in Scotland, waiting and wondering. I sent in the financial aid papers the day after my talk with Dad, complete with an essay on why I am the perfect Gregorstoun Girl (it mostly consisted of “Look at my GPA and PSAT scores”). I rewatched The Seas of Time, I read guidebooks, and I started imagining myself wearing a lot more plaid.
But other than that constant low-level buzz of “Scotland Scotland Scotland” in my head, the summer unfolds as usual. Friends, babysitting Gus, working at the library three days a week.