Reign Check

I leaned back. “You do?”

She nodded gravely. “This is about a boy, isn’t it?”

“A … a boy?”

“Is it that Chris fellow? The one you went to the dance with? Are you having troubles with him?”

I almost laughed, but of course I didn’t. Troubles with Chris. The least of my worries at this very moment.

“No, it’s not Chris.”

“Someone else?”

My bottom lip wobbled. It was enough to confirm her suspicions.

“I see.” She sighed. “Nikki, honey, if you’re having troubles with boys, you can tell me. Maybe I can help.”

“Not with this.”

“I’m here for you if you need to tell me something.” Her expression grew concerned. “Whatever you need to tell me. I can handle it. If you want to go to the doctor and get started on birth control, then we need to make an appointment as soon as—”

“Mom!” I exclaimed, horrified.

“It’s important. When I was your age—”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that.” I cringed. “I’m … well, I was seeing somebody but we broke up. I’m having a hard time with it, that’s all.”

I didn’t want to continue lying to her — were partial truths still considered lies? — but I had to move my mother away from any talk about birth control or doctor’s visits. It was responsible and totally cool of her to be the understanding mom. But, come on. Mortifying much?

“Who is he?” she asked.

“His name’s Michael and he … he … it doesn’t matter anymore.” I knew I shouldn’t be saying anything at all.

Her expression grew more concerned. “Was this Michael mean to you?”

“Mean? No, he was … he was great.”

“Then what was the problem?”

I tried to figure out the best way to put it. “We’re really different. And that got in the way. We’re going to stay friends, but … we can’t be more than that.”

I didn’t think I could get any more vague and still be sort of telling her the truth. But I owed her that. As much as I’d have liked to tell her everything from A to Z, I couldn’t. It was better — and safer—this way.

“You’re so young,” my mom said, wiping my tears with her thumb. “There are so many boys out there who’d love to date you. You’ll find somebody else.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want anybody else.”

“Then you should find a way to fix things, if you feel that strongly about it.”

“I don’t think I can.” I dried my face with the sleeve of my shirt. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will be.”

“And I’m sorry for lying to you. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

She nodded, but there was still tightness around her mouth. It would take more than an apology to regain her trust. “Remember, all we can really depend on in this crazy world is each other. Just like always.”

“Right.” I sniffed. “I’m … I’m going to go call Melinda back.”

“You do that.” She eyed the TV. “And I’m going to stop watching this stupid movie. I’m not in the mood for tales of true love tonight. Maybe I’ll put on an action flick instead. Something with lots of blood and guts.”

“Sounds much less romantic.”

“And you and I are going to do a bunch of things together before I start the next book, okay?”

I managed to grin a little. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Both.” She smiled back at me. “No excuses. I’m ready for some major Susan-and-Nikki time. But no more cutting school, or else. Got it?”

“I promise.”

I went to my room, grabbed the phone on my bedside table, and quickly dialed Melinda’s number.

“Where have you been?” she asked. “I was really worried about you.”

“Thanks, Melinda. But really, you didn’t have to be. I left after lunch. I wasn’t feeling so hot. Then I ended up at the mall just wandering around. I … I guess I must have turned my phone off.”

I had turned my phone off after I’d called my mother. So it wasn’t a total lie.

“You’re feeling better?”

Not even slightly. “Yeah. Much better.”

“Larissa said you two had a fight today. What was that all about?” she asked.

I thought back to my convo with Melinda’s brunette BFF-in-waiting. “A disagreement. She doesn’t like me very much.”

“Don’t worry about Larissa.”

“She thinks I’m not a very good friend to you and that I’ll never fit in with the Royal Party.”

“Well, she’s wrong.”

“She also thinks I’m trying to date Rhys.”

There was a long pause. “Are you?”

My grip on the phone tightened. “Of course not.”

“I guess I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me you already knew him.”

“It’s no big deal, okay? I forgot, that’s all. It’s been a while.” A few days could count as a while, right?

“What do you think of him?”

“I think he’s … different.” Very different.

“I know! So totally different. He seems so, like, unaffected by everything to do with popularity. I think he’d be just as happy hanging with anyone, whether they’re with the in crowd or not. He’s really curious about everything and everyone at school.” She cleared her throat. “Especially you.”

“Me?”

“After you left, he kept asking me questions about you. What you’re like, what you do, who your friends are. Stuff like that. I think he might be interested in you.” There was a raw edge to her voice now.

My stomach wrapped itself into a tight ball. Rhys was interested in me. Interested in finding out how much of a threat I was to him and his faery friends. Way different from wanting to ask me out, which is what Melinda was making it sound like.

“You think so, huh? Well, I’m not interested in him, so end of story.” I sighed. “How about we change the subject? How was your ballet class?”

“Strenuous.” She sighed. “Ballet is way harder than I thought it would be.”

“Are you going to have a recital or anything?” It was nice thinking about somebody else’s life for a moment. “With a big pink tutu?”

She snorted at that. “Nothing’s scheduled yet, but I’ll let you know.” There was a short pause, and then, “I really wish I didn’t have to take these lessons.”

“You could just say no, couldn’t you?”

“I really can’t. I have to do them. My parents insist.”

“So now they want you to be a professional dancer or something? I thought they wanted you to be a doctor.”

“They’ve changed their minds. Now it’s all dancing, all the time.”

That was kind of strange, actually. But it was nice to know I wasn’t the only one forced to deal with things I didn’t particularly want to. Not that I could compare my demonic problems with Melinda cramming her feet into satin ballet slippers.

“Listen, Nikki, can I ask you for a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I know it’s soon and Rhys only just started today, but I think I really like him.”

Here we go again. What happened to changing the subject to something less potentially dangerous, like