Chapter Thirty #2
All we’ve wanted since we were kids was each other.
George’s phone rings, he gets up, walks away.
“Here, Athena,” Arthur nods over at her. “You still talk to Josie Tilden?”
She scrunches her face up in pure disgust. “No way! If I started speaking to her again I think George would kill me.”
“Why?” He asks and then I wonder why he’s even asking after her anyway. No one asks after the Tilden’s.
“Well,” Athena flicks her hair over her shoulder. “She was—”
“A great lay,” Albie chimes in.
Athena whacks him on the arm. “Ohmigosh, Albie! Not at the bloody table!”
“She’s literally Summer Robert’s from the O.C reincarnated,” Spencer whispers into my ear. “Summer if she dated Ryan.”
“Apart from George and Athena actually make sense. Summer and Ryan are like, wet socks,” I whisper back.
She nods.
“Anyway,” Athena continues, a bit flustered.
“Josie was a creep. Like, she was actually so weird.
Even Lottie would say so—in fact, I think anyone would say that about her.
She called her housemaid ‘the help’ and took pictures in the bathrooms at Annabel's like it was a sport. She was the epitome of social fucking suicide.”
“Oh, right,” Arthur nods with a small smile.
“Any reason?” She asks.
“Yeah?” I tilt my head at him. “Any reason you’d want to get back in touch with the Tilden’s, Arthur?”
He gives me a smug smile, reaches into his pocket, chucks me something from across the table. I catch it just before it lands on the floor.
It’s a little silver sobriety chip.
I throw it back to him, catches it perfectly because once upon a time he did have a bright future of being a brilliant rugby player.
“Don’t lose it.”
He flicks his eyebrows up. “I don’t plan to.”
George comes back to the table, whispers something into Albie’s ear who passes it onto Charlie and if it was anyone else, I’d be feeling rather left out but none of us sitting here want to know what they actually get up to.
? ? ?
On our way back from dinner, I keep my distance from Arthur. Mainly because Digby hasn’t stopped texting me.
‘I’m so sorry, Phoebe. For everything.’
’You know how much I love you.’
’I hope we can turn over a new leaf.’
’I miss you.’
Yawn.
I’m half tempted to block him but I won’t because I’m not like that and unfortunately, I hand out second chances like condoms at a sexual health clinic.
Bad habit. Even worse analogy. Sorry.
“Arthur!”
We all stop, look around.
I think I’m the first to clock the leggy blonde princess hanging off the side of her boat, waving down at us.
I roll my eyes.
“Arthur!” She calls again when he looks up at her.
“Astrid?” He calls back. “You alright?”
“I’m good!” She shouts. “You should come up—all of you!”
I grab Spencer’s arm, drag her over to me. “She cannot be fucking serious.”
Spence frowns. “I think she is.”
“Uh…” Arthur turns to us all. Bit awkward. Can’t exactly say no can he?
“Can’t tonight, mate,” Charlie scratches the back of his head. “Up and out early tomorrow.”
“Oh, come on!” Athena tilts her head at us. “I’ve never had drinks with a princess before!”
“Uh…hello?” I blink.
She turns to me, looks me up and down. “Yeah, you’re a Lady. Doesn’t count, I’m afraid.”
“Alright, fine,” George sighs before I can say anything. “Just one, then.”
“Oh my god,” I mutter as we start walking over to her boat.
“You don’t have to come,” Spencer nudges me. “You can go back with Charlie and have an early night.”
“Are you joking?” I turn to her. “And leave the Prince and Princess together? I think we all know how that ends.”
She laughs.
Astrid welcomes us up and as you’d expect from a royal, the yacht is nice. Mines nicer. But still, it’s fine, I guess. She gives us a quick tour. 12 cabins, 370 ft, gym and spa on the lower deck, jacuzzi and swimming pool on the sun deck.
Nothing really amazes you when you grow up with money, anyway. I’ve spent countless summers on boats like this.
I bite my tongue when we all sit down on the upper deck, while the bartender mixes us drinks. I hate to admit it but she actually seems okay. She’s funny, bubbly, great legs, perfect smile, natural hair that you really hope is extensions or colouring just so you can hate something about her.
Really, though, I do kind of just see every girl as perfect—even the ones that may or may not be sleeping with Arthur.
Maybe it’s just what comes with being a girl but I don’t think I’ve ever come across an ugly girl.
Boys, sure, all the time. But not girls.
We just have something about us. Maybe it’s the eyes or the legs or the teeth or the hair.
I’m not sure. Even evil girls are perfect.
Why is that, I wonder? I don’t look at boys like that.
The only boy I think is perfect is Arthur.
Then again, I’ve never looked at other boys.
“Where are you friends?” Spencer asks, looking around.
“Oh,” Astrid nods, waves her hand through the air. “They went to the casino but that’s really not my scene so I decided to stay back but then I saw all of you and thought that some company might be nice.”
“And is the company living up to the expectation?” Connie looks her over the way he does with the girls he wants to sleep with.
Mouth slightly parted, eyes roaming over them slowly, seductively, a quick hand through his hair, a clearing of the throat, a slight furrow of the brow.
It’s impeccable to watch—the outcome even greater.
Astrid blushes, clears her throat. “The company is better than my expectations.”
He nods slowly, leans back, takes a sip of his beer. “Good to know.”
I kick him under the table the same time Arthur does. He sits up with a wince, gives me a dirty look.
Astrid excuses herself, pops inside.
“Leave me alone!” Connie hisses at me. “I’ve never had sex with a princess before!”
“Oh my god!” I roll my eyes. “What is it with her title? Is having a lady and a prince not enough?” I stare at them, wide eyed.
“And besides,” Arthur adds. “Don’t you need to clear up your past messes before starting something else?”
Connie pulls back. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on!” Arthur throws his head back, laughs, points at me. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”
I shake my head slowly. “I’m going to wait for you to say it just in case we’re not thinking about the same thing.”
He rolls his eyes, sighs. “Connie and Spencer!”
We fall silent.
My eyes go wide, mouth open.
Connie frowns. “What?”
“You and Spence…in school…?” Arthur says carefully. “You were sleeping together, weren’t you?”
“You knew?” Spencer says quietly.
Probably the quietest I’ve ever heard her. Her voice, so soft and small and a little bit broken.
We all nod. Even Athena and she weren't even in our group back in school.
Her lips part, a soft ‘oh’ escaping them before she gets up and walks away. I think about following her but maybe she wouldn’t want that. If she’s going to cry I reckon she’d much rather be alone. I think I would want to be in this instance.
“Fuck you,” Connie spits at Arthur before pushing his chair back and storming off.
“Well that went down like a sack of spuds,” Athena says, sipping on her champagne.
“But we all knew, right?” Arthur nods at us.
“Oh, yeah,” I nod right back. “I don’t know when it started but the second they moved in together I knew full well they were sleeping together.”
“Who’s sleeping together?” Astrid smiles, sitting back down, her face quickly falls. “Where did the other two disappear off to?”
“Probably having sex,” George mutters behind his hand.
Athena thumps him on the arm.
“Oh,” Astrid clears her throat. “Well…anyone want to play cards?”
“We can’t play with them,” I shake my head, nod at the twins. “They’re pathological cheaters.”
Astrid raises her eyebrows, smiles, and I can feel her awkwardness from here. Maybe we should go? Maybe I should wait for someone else to leave and then go with them? Will Arthur stay?
“Right,” George slaps his knees, stands up. “Best be off now, getting late.” He glances at his watch.
Albie and Athena go with him after saying bye to Astrid and she looks mildly pleased.
I stand up too, look over at Arthur.
“You coming, mate?” George asks, fake yawns.
His eyes go to mine but I’m not sure why.
I’m not going to tell him what to do.
But he knows exactly what I want him to do.
Astrid flicks her gaze between George, Arthur and me.
“I’m heading back,” I offer up.
Arthur nods. “I might stay for a bit, I’m not that tired.”
“Alright, then,” George says slowly, turning around.
I stay there for a second, hoping for a fake yawn or stretch and for him to change his mind.
“Do you want to stay for another drink?” Astrid offers awkwardly, already getting out of her seat.
“No,” I wave my hand at her, frown. “It’s okay. I’m tired.”
“You sure?” Arthur looks up at me.
I swallow, force myself to shake my head. “No, I’m going to go back now.”
“Oh, okay,” Astrid gives me a small nod and smile.
I turn on my heel and walk as quickly as I possibly can off her boat, leaving behind Arthur and any hope I had.
I’m not sure why I feel obligated to have Arthur all to myself. We’re not dating. It isn’t in my rights to feel the way I do but I can’t help it.
With every step I take, I feel that rope stretching.
The one that pours out of my heart and tangles with the one stretching out of Arthurs.
It makes it hard to breathe. I’ve wondered many times how to sever it.
How to pull it away from Arthur’s and hand it over to Digby but everytime I try to, I realise that actually, I don’t want to.
Maybe it isn’t Astrid who doesn’t deserve him sober, maybe it’s me. Maybe she does and I don’t. Maybe I was just good enough for him while he was high.
Either way, I had him once and I’m determined to get him back because I know it’s right. I know it’s what I’m meant to do.