11th ♕

I had once thought that it was untimely overacting to be shaken by a prince. I usually said to myself that there was no way that was going to happen. But then, I started to feel uneasy around Art. My heart started to beat fast when I was around him, and it was driving me insane.

We were sitting in the car. The tiara charm landed on the back of my palm, as the car stopped at the red light.

Tricky little thing.

I turned my gaze outside the window again. Staring at his reflection, I held my breath. His genuine smile and the warmth in his eyes. It was so easy to give in, but I shouldn't be swayed. I couldn't entertain these thoughts, because it would be unfair to him. When I knew I wouldn't be there to meet him in the end, I shouldn't even think of standing on the starting line.

I'd already received my first paycheck, and it was more than enough to cover up everything I needed before going to college. The mess I'd created was slowly coming to an end. By now, I was only waiting for the right time to tell everyone that I had omitted some truths about my family. From there on, I had no idea what would happen.

"You don't really have to," Art said, for the tenth time this morning.

"I have to be there," I insisted.

"We are going there. All I'm saying is, you can't participate," Art argued, tilting his head to my direction.

"I started wearing those heels again. My running shoes feel so attacked right now. Is it because I'm the princess-in-training?" I said back, facing him as well. It made me a bit conscious, because the backseat's space didn't seem to be wide enough.

"It's not. But your doctor won't like it." Art looked uncomfortable all of a sudden, too.

Turning away, I muttered, "It's been over a month. You're just a worrier."

"It might hurt again," he kept on.

"Bridge, I did get the go signal, right?" I finally asked Bridge, who was sitting on the passenger seat. "Please explain it to him."

"Yes, Art, there's no need to get worked up. We already had a briefing with her doctor," Bridge answered, looking at Art through the rear-view mirror.

Art stayed still, defeated.

"He said that I could run," I added.

"Not more than a few hundred meters, remember," Bridge reminded me.

"How many will you do?" Art asked me.

"A hundred flat."

"Okay, but that's it," he said.

"Okay," I agreed, sitting back. "Even Pete wouldn't sign me up other than for the 4x100 relay."

Art wistfully eyed me. "He did the right thing, especially in cases like this when you refuse to listen."

"I went to the doctor. Why are we even arguing again?" For the past few days, when we talked, it always seemed to end up in a spat.

"We're here," Jack interrupted, stopping the car and breaking a little too forcefully.

"Let's go, kids." Bridge dusted off her hands, and then clapped once. "Stop fighting, and get out of the car."

Art and I reluctantly dropped the topic. This sudden twist was really driving the summer heat straight to our heads. After that night, I didn't know what went wrong.

For him, anyway.

I knew what did on my case. I was always on the prevent-things-from-happening mode. In turn, it had suddenly become my normal response to pick on something he would say, and start turning things from there.

Art was cooperative.

Then it had suddenly become addictive. I was doing a great job on pissing him off. Separation wouldn't be that bad if there were bitter ends that were left. It would only make letting go easy to do, thinking that you were better off without that person. That you deserved more. That was what I'd like him to think of me. Not that girl on the balcony, with whom he had feverishly discussed the possibilities of falling in love.

"Now, I know that the past week has been a test of patience for the two of you. I thought it would go away after a few days, but we could see that it was far from ending. What I want to ask from both of you is to act civil, and don't ever get in an argument in the public's eye, okay? Stop talking if that's what it takes. Are we clear on that?" Bridge looked at us intently, making her point.

I nodded.

"Understood," Art said.

"Good." Bridge got out first, heading to our tent.

Jack gave us some space, vigorously wiping his sunglasses as if to remove the tint. Jack still didn't talk much, but he knew when to leave us both by ourselves. Art's bodyguards, on the other hand, all formed a distinct line after getting out of the car that had tailed us. And also, for the last few days, their eyes had never left me. I knew it was their job to protect Art and be suspicious of everyone, but regrettably, I was now decidedly included on the list.

"Let's go," Art said.

Since we shouldn't argue here, like what Bridge had said, I kept my words to myself. I felt so much like a war freak, and there was a sarcasm galore that always seemed to find its way out of my mouth.

Walking quietly, I looked around Triavia Sports Complex. We were the first to arrive from the palace people, but the audience and participants were already here. Summer in Triavia wouldn't be complete without this annual occasion.

Pete and I had never missed this event. Ever since I'd joined the track and field team in high school, we always made sure that we'd be able to participate on a yearly basis. Pete, being very friendly and an extremely good athlete, was a familiar face for everyone here. I was a familiar shadow spirit of his, like in fantasy books—far from friendly, far from nice.

"George, about what I told you last—" Art tried bringing up the topic again.

"Whoa! That's some really big lights they have there," I said, holding him off, as we were on our way to the tent. Just a little more, and then there would be Bridge who would say a thing or two and distract us again. Another minute and we wouldn't have to discuss this.

"Yes," Art then said, also looking at the light. Then in a soft whisper, I heard, "It does change things."

"The light? Yeah, it does. It's for the night events."

Art checked his watch. "You know I'm not talking about the light. I'm not a complete blockhead, either not to notice what you're doing and to know that the light is for the night events."

"I still have some things I need to tell you first before we go to that topic, which is very uncomfortable to discuss right now," I responded, taking a deep breath. "I have to run with a clear head later. This is far from helping."

"So it's easier for both of us to fight?"

"Yes. No. Could be," I said. In a whisper, I added, "It worked before."

He subtly patted my forehead. "I could take a no. Do you think I won't be able to live with that? What I wanted to tell you is that I think I'm really falling for you."

"Gee... thanks for giving me a heads up."

"You're welcome."

I sighed, flattered and irritated at the same time. "Seriously, how do you expect me to be okay after hearing that?"

"What? Is it because you also feel the same way?" Art said in a teasing tone.

"No," I vehemently denied.

"That's fine. So now that we're clear with that, can we please not get in each other's nerves?"

"I was having a great time, you know? But come along, dear friend. Bridge is looking at us like we're going to be dead meat soon," I said, moving forward. "Just look at that face."

"I like the face," Art commented as we were walking.

"That's what I thought. You secretly have a crush on her," I said, pretending to be unruffled.

"Yeah, before," Art answered.

"The uniform must be attractive," I replied, passively. Art elbowed me, which was ticklish. I really felt ticklish, which was weird. "What?"

"I was kidding." Art placed his arm around me. I got as solid as a block. He added, "She's my brother's ex-girlfriend, so how could I, no?"

I was speechless for a good one minute. "Come again? I think I heard you say that Bridge is Prince William's ex-girlfriend."

"That's what I said."

"Come on, that couldn't be possible. I mean, Bridge and your brother?" Bridgette and Prince William? Art must be kidding. There was no way that could have had happened before.

"Ask her," Art profoundly offered.

Which was why, ten minutes later, when Art had purposely left the two of us alone in the tent, I took the courage to sustain my curiosity. I was going along with the flow of the conversation, letting my guard down with Bridge and acting like myself, which I hoped would somehow then lead to us opening up each other's secrets.

Girl talk.

Yeah, I mean, even if I had no idea how that was supposedly done, even just a little, shouldn't it come naturally? Without having to be in pajamas and throwing pillows around. As much, or even more than I wouldn't go with that, so was the case for Bridge Kingsburry, Ph.D., of twenty-eight years of age, a royal secretary who had been assigned to me.

"Care letting me know?" Bridge asked somewhere within the time span of my plan to knowing the real deal.

"I've got shaken by what he said and did. The bracelet," I told her, showing the bangle around my wrist.

"So you think you're going to fall in love with Art soon?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure what exactly is that. What about you? Have you ever fallen in love before?" And did you notice that I was bringing up the topic? Art had told me a total moronic thing a while ago.

Of all the things I'd expected to hear about Bridge's past, to be honest, it certainly wasn't included on the list. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had a previous relationship with anyone else other than Prince William, whom she had seen every day of her life while working at the palace. Even if Bridge's strictness came next to existing, she was a very good-looking woman. What kind of tragic love story did she choose?

"Everybody is a kid when it comes to love," Bridge was explaining, when Prince Will waved at our direction, holding his wife in his arm as they were walking.

Ouch.

I felt like I was the one who got shot straight to the heart. I smiled at Prince William and Princess Elaine. But to make the sight even worse—surely not in my eyes, because I was happy that they finally got a baby—Elaine unconsciously rubbed her belly as they went inside their tent.

Turning to Bridge, I worriedly asked, "Bridge?"

She abruptly closed her eyes.

I held back the tears. This? Tragic.

When she opened her eyes, Bridge went on like nothing happened, well, if what Art had said was true and she wasn't just thinking of life-changing words, "So what I'm saying is, it's completely understandable that you don't know what's happening. Because if you do, then love won't be that special. It's supposed to be a mystery, a question with no definite answer for all. Just your own, on a personal level, depending on what kind of love you have been through."

I quietly asked, "Have you ever been in love before?"

"Once or probably twice," she said. "That's just how it goes. It's unfathomable, unreasonable, and sometimes absurd. But it's a special memory to carry on and live with. More like a lesson, at times."

"What did you major in again?" I asked her, deciding to ease up the mood. The scenario a while ago was too heartbreaking to go on with this. I would just save this for some other day. "Love? Amore? Ai? Ljubav? Pag-ibig? Liebe? Cinta? Rakkaus? Sarang? Ast? Gra? Laska? Cariad? Aloha?"

"Language studies," she answered, staring at me. "How did you know all those words?"

"I got curious last week, so I searched for it online."

"And that will help you when?" She narrowed her eyes and actually teased me.

I shrugged, then tried saying it, "Mi amore... ugh, disregard. It sounds off."

"For you, now, maybe. But then why did you memorize all that if you were not planning to use them?" Bridge asked me, toggling the page on her planner.

"No reason. Well, come to think of it, maybe when we meet some more foreign dignitaries," I told her. And just in case Art would suddenly surprise me with a different language, then I thought I should know the basic words to watch out for. Art was fluent in five languages, and he was having more lessons about the others. You could never know.

"That you love them? The foreign dignitaries?" Bridge repeated.

"Yes, I'm all in for love for humanity, world peace, and campaigns against animal cruelty." I scratched the tip of my nose. "Yes, well, there are different kinds, after all."

"Frankly, all I want to say is that between you and Art, this is already bound to happen. I mean, it's not like you two are not attracted to each other. Why did you think Art told the panel to let you pass the first interview? That he made it clear after the second interview that he preferred you among the group?"

"What?" I seemed to hear wrong, again. It was revelation day, everyone. Secrets kept on coming clean one by one.

"What I'm saying is, this is likely to happen. Everyone is just waiting for this to come around. So don't over think it and just let it be."

"Wait, what was that again? Before the let it be, what did you say?"

"Which one?"

"The interviews," I said.

"His insistence that you should be the one?" Bridge clarified.

"His insistence?"

"Actually, unless a prince wanted to be hands off, which was usually the case before, he actually had the power to choose which one. The panel's there to ask the questions and help with the assessment. They got a say, but a word from the prince could actually change things drastically. This is internal, so don't ever tell anyone."

"If that's what happened..."

"He chose you, Georgiette. For the past few years, Art might be the only one who got head to head with some of the panel members after the initial interview. I also heard that he thoroughly talked with the Queen."

"To convince them?" Maybe that was why he was certain that I got into the final interview. "He did all that for my sake? Did I look that desperate during the initial interview? Does he like charity works that much?"

"He convinced them that you had more than enough qualifications despite," she answered.

I grimly looked down. "Despite what I am?"

"What you like wearing and how you act," Bridge said. Elaborating it, she finished, "T-shirts. Sneakers. Holed-up pants. That boyish personality of yours."

"They're not that bad," I said to my clothes' defense.

"Just peculiar. It doesn't mean it can't be," she replied, tapping her pen to her planner. "But let's go back to the agenda for today. Do not screw up your speech. You're perfectly fine until the butterflies, okay? So don't let the butterflies swarm your stomach. And as you told me, you're familiar with almost everyone in this event, so regard to them as friends, okay?"

"Fellow countrymen." I smiled, adding, "I have a favor to ask you, Bridge."

"What favor? Better not about changing the speech, because we have already gone through this for days. It's too late to—"

"Can you wear these instead?" I handed a set of clothes to her, after grabbing it from my bag. "I mean, it's a summer meet event. Jack is even wearing checkered polo shirt. Can't you change to some other color, just for today?"

"I don't think this is important," she abruptly replied.

"Try it. Everyone's not wearing black, well, aside from Art's stubborn entourage, who don't want to celebrate the summer spirit. Lenora made that one for you, just in case you wanted to try on some black skirt and pink polo shirt. Hey, they're a decent pair and no one will judge you for it," I assured her.

Bridge looked very unsure.

"I am wearing this green," I adjusted the slim straps, "sportswear that has left a lot to be seen on my upper back. I was used to wearing t-shirts, so this is also new for me."

"I could barely see your skin even with the criss-crossed straps," she answered.

"I feel the air seeping in, okay? It's what counts on holes counting."

"Okay, if that's what you say," Bridge replied.

"She should change, right, Jack?" I asked the silent man, who was everywhere with us.

"Getting some change of clothes could be refreshing to the soul," Jack answered.

I tied my hair up. "That was weird."

"I do yoga," Jack added.

"Which makes it weirder."

"Whichever you want to take it, Princess."

"I'm with Georgiette with that one. So if I change my clothes, will this topic end?" Bridge stood up, putting her things inside her bag.

"Yes," I said, hundred percent agreeing. "It's okay, Jack. We can talk about other things."

Jack only smiled.

"I'll be out for a moment. Just want to lose some nerves before the speech," I told Bridge. "Will that be okay?"

"Sure, go ahead," she answered from inside the changing room.

"Will you come, too?" I asked Jack.

"You know I'll follow, Princess," he simply answered.

"Okay, let's go." I shrugged my shoulders. "I have to lose some nerves."

"You'll be fine, Princess," Jack comforted me.

"Gee... thanks," I replied, hearing my phone beep. I got a text message from Pete, as I was walking around the place with Jack.

Where r u?

here near the.. huge tree.., I was typing, when I saw Pete with a girl. It was Darcy. I called out, "Pete!"

"George!" Pete said, after he turned around and saw me. He made me move under the huge umbrella that he was likely holding for Darcy. "It's too hot today. And Darcy's here."

"Hey, George." Darcy gave me a quick hug. "It's been a long time since we last talked."

"Hi, Darce. You're up to making my best friend your slave?" I asked, looking at Pete, who was holding Darcy's huge bag with his left hand.

"He likes it," Darcy replied.

"I can see."

"How's your condition? I went on a vacation with my mom, so I wasn't able to practice," she told me.

"I haven't practiced that much these days, so I guess we'll leave things to Pete."

"Can you stop talking like I'm not here? Third personing me is too much," Pete complained, which made me laugh and Darcy giggle.

"You'll be fine, George. You won the 400-meter sprint last year. It's not like you need practice." Darcy crossed her arms and looked at me. To Pete, he said, "Right, Peter?"

"Peter," I muttered to Pete. Well, this was an improvement.

"Shut up, Georgey. Just do your warm ups," Pete said.

"I just got here," I protested, only to see some distraction a few meters away from where we were standing. "But on the other hand, I'll leave you guys by yourself and meet you at the track."

"We can practice together." Darcy held back my arm. She said, "Come on, don't be a stranger."

"I don't think Pete will like it if I'm around," I whispered to her.

Darcy blushed.

"No, really, stay. I can see where you're going. You're going to get involved, and it's not going to do you good," Pete called me out. Shame. He had also seen it.

"I am not. I just want to taunt her while she's having her moment," I answered him. "See you two later!"

"Go to your prince. Don't go there," Pete warned me.

Summer events meant that everyone in Triavia City gathered around. This was likely the place to meet up with old friends, flames, and even estranged family members. Which was why it didn't surprise me that I saw the two of them here.

Kicking her lightly on the back of her right leg, I asked, "What are you looking at?"

"Shh!" Love turned around, a horrified look was present on her face.

I raised my eyebrow, shoving her away to look at what I had already seen from afar. "Exchange of saliva. What a very scientific observation we have here."

Love threw me a sharp look. "Get lost, George."

"To where?" I said, clueless. "Everyone seems to be everywhere."

"Just go away," Love replied.

I laughed in an off tone. "I thought you wanted us to be friends again?"

"Not now, okay?"

"Get over it. I did. What's so hard about that? He's going to be an asshole his whole life. Just look at that." I pointed at Robin and an unknown girl, who both didn't seem to notice that we were talking about them from a distance.

"That is not any your business."

"What happened to the making up drama?"

"I'm not in the mood."

"Figures."

She sighed, giving in. "We didn't really break up. Or we did, but we got back together. He's still seeing me... and her. He's still seeing all of us. Who knows how many girls he's dating right now."

"Hmm, not me, though," I said. Love frowned, not too happy with my joke. "Don't be in such a sour mood. You're runner-up of the princess search. Who knows if there'll be a need for a Robin in your life later on?"

"I joined the princess search to taunt him. I wanted to make him jealous. It worked at first. After I got chosen as a runner-up, he wanted to see me again. But after a few days, I caught him with another girl again," she explained.

"What a very sad story."

"I heard you're participating." Love stifled a sigh.

"There?" I widened my eyes in response, looking at Robin's direction.

"Gosh, not that. The relay," she said.

"Oh, the relay," I echoed back. "Yes, I will."

"Good luck," she told me, taking a deep breath. "I should go. I give up. I'm such a fool to believe him. You were right before. I'm really sorry for being a bitch to you. You should have felt the same way like I do right now."

I didn't answer.

"Whatever," Love dismissed.

"Have fun today!" I shouted, as Love put her hand on her hips, shaking her head while walking away. There was no doubt that Robin and company would hear me shout, so I turned to his direction this time. Seeing him staring at me, I asked, "What are you looking at?"

"George," my name escaped his lips. Somewhere in the middle of me staring at him, as if I couldn't believe how low he would go, his company had disappeared. I had another theory about Robin. Aside from being the class clown and ultimate hair guru, as long as you were capable of wearing skirt, Robin would say hi to you. And when you were the princess-in-training, he would really make an effort.

"Hey, old friend," Robin said. "I heard about the news. You look very different today."

"For a lowlife, you know how to talk."

"That's a rough one, George. Who were you talking to a moment ago? Were you trying to get my attention so badly? You could have just told me," Robin said, making me want to punch him in the face. I lost practice. This must be the right time to get some.

"Love, your girlfriend. Ring a bell?"

"Ah, my lovely ex-girlfriend. Did you two talk about me?"

"Why did you cheat on her?" I asked him bluntly, prying again when I shouldn't.

Robin moved even closer. "I got tired, and I've found out that she had lied about you."

"And then? Was that a good enough reason to cheat on her? If you're tired, then dump the girl. Don't play with their feelings, because that sucks," I said to him.

"She's not you. It could have been you if she didn't ruin things between us." Robin moved his left hand towards my face, about to hold my cheek. I heard too many nonsense today. "She's not this. She's never you..."

"Back off," I warned him, shoving his hand away. Jack, who was standing behind me, was about to intervene, but I raised a hand to tell him that I was fine. "I won't be too sorry if that arm breaks."

"George, I'm in love with you," Robin said, convincing me. "I wasn't able to tell you before. If I knew that I'd see you like this, right now, baby, I would have traded the world for it."

"Whoa. Hold about there, dude. There was nothing like that before," I replied.

"Can't you give us a chance again?" Robin got the nerve to ask. "So that I can prove it to you."

"Do you think I'm dimwit and blind and insensitive? Get lost, Robin. I don't know what you're up to, but you don't do that to my friend and get away with it."

"I thought you two were not friends anymore?" Robin asked.

"Ex-friends. But point is, you should stop being such a moron and go get a life. A decent one." Even if we were not like before, there had been times when Love had once stood up for me. I was doing her back the favor, that was all.

"I'll woo you back, George. You can't say no to me, after all. You never could, never will." Robin got a firm smirk on his face. Like he was winning.

Hardly.

"She might," a familiar voice said from behind me.

When I turned around, I saw Art coming over to us. He was holding a few memory cards in his hand. When he was standing beside me, I quietly asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Is this shit for real?" Robin asked.

"Yes. And as long as he's around, I won't go out with anybody, especially you," I said to Robin.

"We'll see, George." Robin shrugged his shoulders, refusing to believe it. We watched as he walked away on his own. Even if he wouldn't admit it, Robin looked intimidated when Art had appeared. I guessed that there was a limit to how arrogant he could get.

"Are you okay?" Art asked me.

"I'm fine. There's Jack," I replied, feeling shy to add that there was also him. "What's with those memory cards?"

"They were taking pictures of you," he answered, putting the memory cards in his pocket. "The paparazzi. My security team managed to collect most of them. I'll hand these over to Bridge later for review."

"Thanks. I didn't think of that. I'm sorry that it didn't cross my mind earlier before I got involved with their issues," I told him, feeling apologetic.

He smiled at me. "Don't worry about it. I went to find you, because Bridge was looking for you. She's at the backstage of the podium."

"It's almost time for my speech," I said, feeling antsy.

"Was he the one that you told me about?" Art asked me as we were walking.

I nodded.

"You also said something to him a while ago." Art tried to catch my eyes. I swore that there was the slightest reddish tint on his face. "What was it again?"

"About what?"

"The one when I'm around?"

"Oh, that." I blushed in response, walking faster. "I need to prep for my speech. Hi! I welcome you to the opening of the Summer Sports Festival, a day we're always looking forward to every year. As a fellow athlete, I'm honored to be standing in front of you today. I believe that the upcoming week will be filled with excitement and fun. We will celebrate each event with the sun on our skin and smiles on our faces. May the spirit of sportsmanship stay with us at all times, and remember that—"

He suddenly took my hand.

We were silent for a minute. It was as if bullets were piercing through vital points everywhere. My mind went blank. Jack went back to polishing his sunglasses. I should really get him a new one for his birthday, because his sunglasses would soon peel off with his hobby of polishing it every single time he was caught up in an awkward situation, third person.

"So now you're just going to hold my hand?" I tried to sound casual, but his hand in mine made my heart race.

"To keep him away," Art put it simply.

I gave his hand a light squeeze. "This will do the trick."

"Did you meet your friend?" he asked.

"Earlier," I replied. "I was supposed to be practicing. Pete wouldn't be thrilled to know that I didn't warm up for the run."

"You can do it after your speech," he said.

I let out a sigh. "More than those warm ups, I also lack practice. Pete wanted to win this one. There was this guy who also liked Darcy. He would be competing for the last hundred meters against Pete."

"Who's Darcy again?"

"The one that Pete likes."

"It's going to be fine. I heard from Bridge that you and Pete bagged a lot of awards from last year's Track and Field event."

"Good times," I said, realizing that I should probably let go of his hand by now. A lot of people were starting to notice us. They kept on taking pictures with their phones. But when I pulled back a little, Art held my hand tightly in response. Moving closer to him, I whispered, "They're staring."

"And?"

"I don't know," I responded, feeling confused. Why didn't I say something else to Robin earlier? Mine was not the hand Art should be holding right now, when I could easily let him go. Trying to change the topic, I asked him, "Are you still mad that I'm participating in the event?"

"I can't hold your feet when you always wanted to run," Art replied.

There was a pause.

"Never from you," I found myself telling him. "Maybe from all this, but not from you."