Chapter 15 #2
“No.” I puff out my cheeks. “The powers that be decided it would be wasteful since I already live in London.” The exact words the PM used were “a waste of valuable taxpayer funds.” Mr. Carrington refused to hear what I had to say about the topic.
Alfie takes a sip of beer from his pint. “But was it something you wanted to do? Given the choice?”
I play with my glass. “It would’ve been nice to get to know some people before fresher’s week.” It’s the first time I’ve admitted that to anyone. I’d hoped to be able to go through the same experience as my cousins. They made brilliant friends with their dormmates.
“Having lived in a dormitory the last three years, I can tell you that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
Aside from living close to school, you’re not missing out on much.
I still have to do my own washing up, food shopping, and share a tight space with two other blokes.
Our rooms are tiny. There is no privacy. ”
Hearing him say that makes me feel slightly better. Privacy is a big concern of mine, especially given my past.
“Not to mention you don’t know who you’re going to get as a roommate.
Sometimes it works out well, and other times it doesn’t.
I know people who’ve had it both ways. There were plenty of my classmates who didn’t dorm and they made friends just fine.
I bet the same is true for you and you’ll get to know the people in your classes well. ”
Alfie shares a little about his own roommates, then asks, “Have you ever lived away from your family?”
“Uh-huh. I was a boarder at the Wiltshire Girls Academy from the time I was ten until last year.”
“Then you’ve already done the dorm experience,” he says.
“Huh, I guess I have. I never thought about it that way.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“No, not especially.” I play with my glass. “It might not have been so bad if my school hadn’t been all girls.”
“Growing up with sisters, I’ve heard stories about how cruel girls can be to one another.
” Alfie’s large eyes appraise me. “I can tell you firsthand that bullying isn’t just done by girls.
It happens with boys too. Until I decided to become a full-time student at the Westminster Ballet School, I attended a local comprehensive in Surrey and I was bullied mercilessly. ”
My chest tightens. “Was it because of dance?”
He nods and gives me a sad smile. “Eight- and nine-year-old boys aren’t mature enough to understand that even though social media and the internet paint dance as a feminine art, it isn’t just for girls. It’s for everyone.”
I wince. “I’m sorry for you too. How did you get through it?”
“I tried to give up ballet completely, but I was miserable. It was the one thing I enjoyed. My grades dipped and I grew really depressed. Luckily, my sisters stepped in and helped me sort out that I shouldn’t have to give it all up.
I needed to be surrounded by people who weren’t so close-minded.
So my parents decided to pull me out and let me enroll full-time in dance school.
That change in environment made all the difference in the world. ”
As I listen to Alfie speak about his past, a warm, fuzzy feeling runs through my chest. Here is a man who’s not just surviving, he’s thriving. There is so much I can learn from him. He inspires me to share a little bit of myself with him, even though we’ve just met.
“Our stories are a lot alike. I had some problems in my last year of school. I was bullied. All I could do was pretend I lived in a bubble, and it didn’t bother me, but in truth, it did hurt. I spent a lot of time alone.”
“Alice, I’m so sorry you ever had to go through something like that.”
“I just wish there had been someone like you I could’ve talked to. It would’ve made a huge difference.”
“Me too, Alice. Me too.” He reaches for my hand and squeezes it. It’s a small gesture, but brings me so much comfort.
Around ten, Alfie and I say our goodbyes and I am driven home by Art and Angela.
“You two looked pretty cozy with one another when you walked out. Do you have plans to see him again?” Angela grins, glancing back at me from the front seat.
I stare out the window at the darkened streets of London.
The shops are closed, yet the there are still plenty of tourists out and about, especially as we pass Piccadilly Circus.
“Alfie was great. I liked him a lot. We agreed to keep in touch with one another, but if we go out again, it’ll only be as friends, not a date. ”
“It’s for the best, ma’am,” Art mutters.
“I agree.”
Toward the end of dinner, Alfie admitted to me what I’d suspected earlier.
He isn’t looking to get involved in a relationship right now.
His focus is on starting his new life and career in Germany, and I can’t say I blame him.
He agreed to go on a date tonight because Jenna kept talking me up to him.
He wanted to be open-minded. A part of me was relieved to hear him say that.
I like him, but in a friend sort of way.
We didn’t have that zing or chemistry between us that I feel when I’m near Art.
One good thing that did come of dinner was our discussion about bullying. It was like a weight being lifted off my shoulders when I was able to talk so openly to another person who’s gone through what I have.
Throughout the evening, I couldn’t help but wonder about other people who are being bullied and whether they feel invisible and helpless.
If I can, I’d like to find a way to help them and bring awareness to it.
Maybe it can be my platform. I made myself a mental note to speak to my brother for some advice.
“Are you going to go on any other dates this week, ma’am?” Angela asks.
“I don’t think so. Maybe I’ll try again in another two or three weeks. For now, I’d rather focus on enjoying the remainder of the summer.”
Art remains silent. My gaze travels to him. He may not be scowling, but he’s still clenching his jaw. What’s on his mind? He was in a much better mood once Alfie was gone, and leaving the pub relaxed him. But now we’re back to square one. Why are his moods so unpredictable?
“Have you finished reading the second Bridgerton book yet?” Angela asks.
I turn my head. “No, um, I haven’t really been in the mood for romances lately. I’ve been on a fantasy kick. There’s this amazing series involving dragons and a school in—”
“You’re killing me.” She groans. “I need you to finish them so you can watch the series. There’s nobody else I can talk to about them.”
“What about me?” Art deadpans.
“You?” Angela and I say at the same time.
“Yes, me.”
“You’ve watched the series?” Angela asks.
“Yes,” he mutters. “All three seasons, so you’d get off my back about it.”
“Why are you only telling me now?” she demands. “We could’ve been talking about this all week.”
“Because I’ve only just finished,” Art mutters.
“See, Princess, you need to catch up to us cool kids.”
“What do you think, Art? Should I give up on the books and go directly to the series?” I tilt my head to the side.
“Yes. I think you’ll enjoy seeing all the sets. It may even give you some inspiration for your flat.”
“Oh, how is that coming along? Do you have any progress photos?” Angela asks anxiously. “You know how I love interior design!”
“The construction team has moved on to demolition on the first and second floors. They’re in just as rough a shape as the ground floor. At this point, I’m losing hope that much of the original flat will be left by the end of all this.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Alice. Are they still on track to finish by September?”
“No, it’s looking more like December, if we’re lucky.
” I unlock my mobile, opening the Pinterest app.
“Here’s the latest renderings I’ve come up with.
Art helped me find some brilliant furniture pieces to play with.
” I hand her the device, noticing his gaze watching me through the rearview window. A thrill runs straight to my core.
The date with Alfie made clear to me that I’m eighty percent sure I like Art a lot more than I should.
I’m likely on my way to one hundred percent, and everything is starting to become more real.
Because when I do get there, I don’t know if anything can come from it.
Protection officers can’t date princesses.