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Totally Starcross'd, Page 6

S.D. Wasley


  ****

  It was late at night when my parents finally called me into the kitchen.

  “Romilly,” said Mom, “do you still feel very strongly that you don’t want to go to Mantua Ladies’ College?”

  Great. Another brainwashing session? Another oh-they-have-such-great-programs-and-facilities-there marketing campaign?

  “Yes,” I said clearly. “I would like to stay at Verona East.”

  They exchanged glances and Dad cleared his throat. “You do understand why we wanted you to go there? It’s a great concern to us that you’ve been mixing with people behind our backs. And then when Merrick was attacked and you seemed insistent on involving yourself in the online discussion of the bashing … well, it scared us. We’ve been worried about your safety.”

  I made a supreme effort and managed not to roll my eyes. “I know, but you brought me up to speak my mind. That’s exactly what you do, right Dad? That’s why you’re about to become the next Governor of Verona.”

  Dad looked awkwardly proud for a moment before giving me a hard stare. “And the sneaking around with boys? Did we teach you that, too?”

  I dropped my eyes. “Yeah, that was probably a mistake. But I just knew Julian was a good person and I thought if I told you about him, you might tell me I couldn’t see him.” I gave them my most beseeching look. “Please, Mom, Dad. Please don’t make me go to Mantua. I’ll disable all my social profiles. I’ll keep my mouth shut about controversial stuff. I’ll only go out in public with one of your security guards. I’ll―I’ll―” I stopped. I couldn’t think of anything else I could offer them and I sure wasn’t going to promise not to see Julian anymore.

  Dad seemed shocked. He and Mom exchanged looks of consternation. “Romilly, we don’t expect anything like that!”

  “We don’t want you to change who you are,” Mom said. “And anyway, we’ve been thinking. We’ve realized how hypocritical it would look if we were to send our daughter to an exclusive private school after your father has made such strong statements in favor of public education.” My hope rose and I nodded eagerly. “Perhaps sending you to Mantua Ladies’ College wasn’t such a well-thought-out idea after all.”

  A grin broke on my face. “I don’t have to go?”

  Dad shook his head. “No. You can stay at Verona East. But Romy, I want you to promise me something.” He looked at me seriously. “I want you to have some briefing sessions with my security people so they can make you fully aware of the risks and how to avoid dangerous situations. You’re too trusting. I would feel better if you fully appreciated what some strange-minded people out there can do and how to keep yourself safe.”

  By this stage I was so relieved I would have promised Dad I’d shave my head or give up chocolate for a year. I nodded fervently.

  “No more lying or sneaking around,” he finished with a stern look. “We’ve never asked anything unreasonable of you, Romilly. All we want is your honesty and a bit of communication.”

  “And you can date,” Mom added. “We’ve never stopped you from dating. But you need to tell us who, when and where you’ll be. And we want to meet whomever it is before you go out with him—every single time you date a new boy.”

  I grinned. There was only going to be one boy, as far as I could see. And I was more than ready for them to meet him.

  Julian

  “How the hell did you do it, man?”

  I heard the triumph in Laurence’s voice at the other end of the call. “I couldn’t help but think it was a bit at-odds with Montague politics to line the pockets of a wealthy private school. Alan Montague is set to address the Educators’ Association dinner this week and I believe his topic is the importance of supporting free public education. I had a word to someone I know in his office―just to remind the Montague camp that putting their money where their mouth is should be a priority, especially in the wake of the disastrous Capulet campaign.”

  “Laurence. You are one scary dude. Remind me never to go into battle with you.”

  “No, I’m a pacifist,” he protested. “Romilly gave me the idea. She thought you’d given her a little bottle of poison, remember? Your weird pendant? That’s what I did. I gave Montague a little bottle of poison―not a big enough dose to really hurt anyone. Just enough to help things along.” His grin was audible. “Now, stay the hell away from my place for a while, okay? Jules? And make sure your forbidden lover gets the memo, as well.”

  I told him he was an asshole and he laughed before we said a final goodbye―at least for a couple of months. I took off. I was meeting Romilly at Leopard Blue. Finally we were going to experience the awesome latte art she’d promised me. Our parents knew we were meeting. I’d been forced to endure the mortification of being presented by Romilly to the Montagues as the illicit―if repentant―lover. They were actually really cool. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t awkward.

  I wished I could do the same with my parents but when Mom found out I was dating Romilly Montague she hit the roof. Again. Dad had to spend hours talking to her privately before she could even bring herself to look me in the eye. But that night she came to my bedroom and said stiffly, “Julian, I respect your choice to date whom you wish.”

  My jaw sagged and I nearly fell off my bed. She gave me a look halfway between a bitter glare and helplessness. “If Ty’s going to have to go to a detention center after the court case, then I don’t want to lose you, too. I won’t withhold your college fund if you decide to attend a more … distant school. But I’d appreciate it if you were to consider choosing somewhere within an hour’s drive.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Nope, still nowhere near ready to meet Romilly. But it would happen. Eventually.

  I got to Leopard Blue and sat at the same table where I’d met up with her last time. I thought about the gallery where I first saw that beautiful, dark-haired girl staring at an early Picasso. That had been it, I guess. The moment fate seared itself across my heart like a burning meteorite. Then in the Urban Orchard, under a cloud of pink plum blossom, she told me she felt the same. My excitement grew as I thought about all the places we could explore together. Galleries, museums, plays, shows. Now Romilly was staying in Verona City, there wasn’t a chance in hell of me attending college anywhere else. I’d already downloaded the Verona College application form.

  I looked up and she was walking toward me. My breath caught. Goddamn. She was amazing. Just blue jeans and a white top, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and her red lips parted in a joyful smile … but she was amazing. I jumped up and she landed right in my arms for a tight hug.

  “Hi, Girl Who,” I whispered. “I’m officially renaming you … Girl Who has my Heart.”

  She kissed me briefly. “But you can call me Romilly, now. Or even Agnes Smithbutt.” She gave me a cheeky grin.

  I laughed. “What’s in a name, anyway?”

  The End

  Read on for a bonus: the first chapter of Downfall, S.D. Wasley’s new adult paranormal romance.

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