Home > Of Princes and Promises (St. Rosetta's Academy #2)(2)

Of Princes and Promises (St. Rosetta's Academy #2)(2)
Author: Sandhya Menon

They were arguing about the dialogue in some romantic comedy holiday movie they’d all watched over break. Naturally, Rahul hadn’t seen it. But that wasn’t necessary for him to know they were all speaking utter nonsense. Finally, not able to contain his thoughts any longer, he butted in, though he usually preferred to remain on the periphery in conversations where he lacked expertise. “Completely nonsensical. The universe cannot implode simply because one person has ceased to exist within it,” Rahul said, watching his friends as they turned to him, their smiles slowly fading. “As it is, the multiverse theory states that everything that exists, to include matter, space, time—”

“Ix-nay ock-Spay,” Leo said, putting his hand on Rahul’s arm. When Rahul turned to look at him, he widened his eyes meaningfully.

That was their signal. Whenever Rahul got too literal or logical or went full-on “Robot Chopra,” as DE called it, Leo would say the Pig Latin equivalent of “Nix Spock.” It was a more polite way to ask Rahul to stop talking.

“Sorry,” Rahul mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat. He’d gotten it wrong again.

“No worries, dude,” Daphne Elizabeth said, clapping his shoulder heartily from the other side. She ran a finger along the Rosetta Academy insignia engraved along the edge of the dining table. “Some of us are complete morons when it comes to love. And I wholeheartedly include myself under that sad, lonely little umbrella.”

Jaya and Grey smiled at Rahul kindly, but that just made it worse. The floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side of the dining hall let in waves of buttery golden winter sunlight, but Rahul’s own mood was getting more dismal by the minute.

Just once, he’d like to be able to be one of the group. Not the one who was never in on the joke, not the one who made people laugh because of his idiosyncrasies, but the guy who deliberately made the jokes. The guy who directed conversation, not the one who stymied it. Like Grey. Or Leo. Or literally anyone else but himself.

“Shit,” DE squeaked suddenly, slumping down in her chair. She attempted to pull her bangs down lower on her forehead, but they were short and barely did anything. “I knew I should’ve worn my ski mask in here.”

Confused, Rahul turned in the direction she was looking, wondering whether this was yet another figure of speech he was unfamiliar with.

Caterina LaValle was walking in, flanked by those two girls she was always with. She looked like Princess Isabella of Portugal or a pale-skinned Jhansi ki Rani or some other fierce and beautiful queen. She wore an ultramarine-blue wool dress with bell-shaped sleeves that came to her elbows. Her slim legs were clad in shimmery tights and calf-length leather boots, her dark hair cascading in full, shiny waves down her shoulders—

“Yo.” DE snapped her fingers in front of Rahul’s face, probably emboldened as Caterina turned toward a corner table with her entourage, obviously not interested in a confrontation.

He blinked and looked at her, adjusting his glasses. “What?”

DE smirked at him, her pink lip-glossed mouth all shiny. “Dude. You have it so bad. Jaya asked you a question.”

Rahul looked over at Jaya, who was grinning, her hand entwined with Grey’s on the table. “I asked, did anything happen between you two over the break? After, you know, the winter formal…”

Rahul glanced at Caterina again, momentarily reliving what had been one of the best moments of his life. She’d been so unlike herself that night, sad and hopeless and… almost kind of vulnerable. Rahul had wanted nothing more than to take her pain away, to wipe her tears, to tell her that jerk-off Alaric didn’t deserve even an iota of her time. But instead, he’d just taken her in his arms and swayed with her, gently, half expecting her to snap at him that he was making her look like a fool, thanks to his uncoordinated, fawn-on-ice-like movements.

But she hadn’t. She’d just let his hands rest on her waist while her arms rested on his shoulders. She’d looked into his eyes. There was a small smear of mascara at the corner of one of hers, which just showed how discombobulated she really was. And when he was thinking about that, she’d smiled softly and said, “Thank you, Rahul. You’re really sweet, you know that?”

Caterina LaValle had called him, Rahul Chopra, sweet. No, actually, to be very precise, she’d called him really sweet. That was a superlative, was it not? That was evidence, was it not, of a burgeoning… something?

“Well,” Rahul said, playing with the handle of his coffee mug. “I have a feeling things are about to become… more intense between us.” He thought about his word choice, then nodded his head once. “Yes. Definitely more intense.”

Jaya, Grey, DE, and Samantha all chorused with various versions of, “Wait, what?” while Leo leaned over the table to clap him on the shoulder and yell, at definite hearing-damage volumes, “Quoi! My man, tell me everything!”

Rahul looked around at all their eager, shining faces. He saw genuine joy there, and excitement. Had his friends known how he felt about Caterina all along? He thought he’d hid it pretty well, but maybe he’d been less suave than he’d thought. Big surprise. “I danced with her at the dance before winter break, as you know,” he began. They all nodded, their eyes sparkling as they waited for more. “And she told me I was ‘really sweet.’ That’s a direct quote. ‘Really sweet.’ ” Smiling a little, he looked around at them all.

They glanced at each other, and he noticed they weren’t really smiling anymore. DE was staring down into her waffles. Grey itched the back of his neck. Jaya bit her lip. Leo and Samantha both wore identical frowns.

“And…?” Jaya prompted, leaning forward in her chair. “Did you speak to her over winter break? Did you text each other, perhaps?”

Frowning, Rahul took off his glasses and polished them on the hem of the orange turtleneck sweater that hung on his frame a little. Maybe he shouldn’t have grabbed the first one off the rack at the store, but frankly, who had time for such banalities as shopping? “No,” he said. “I didn’t have her number. But that’s immaterial, because I know she’ll be ready to pick up where we left off.”

He was pretty sure he heard DE mumble, “Left what off?” but he didn’t respond because the answer was obvious from what he’d just recounted.

His gaze stole across the cafeteria again, to where Caterina sat with her entourage. As he watched, she grabbed a cup of to-go coffee that one of her many admirers was holding out (this was not uncommon; all Caterina had to do was sit down in the dining hall, and people would bring her food like she was an Egyptian queen and they her besotted servants) and then stood, her friends standing with her.

Rahul’s fists clenched. Something inside him was churning. This was exactly how he’d felt when he’d handed his gloves and hat to a homeless person he’d seen shivering on a bench one winter a couple of years ago. A feeling that he had to do something, that time was running out, that he couldn’t just sit idly by and be some passive chump. And that feeling warred with the intense social anxiety that circled him at all times, like a dark vulture that refused to leave him alone. He cleared his throat and surreptitiously wiped his damp palms on his pants.

“Excuse me,” he said, realizing only too late that he’d interrupted Sam’s story about a vat of jam at her mom’s factory that had almost eaten her scarf.

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