Jonas~~
I feel entirely uncomfortable.
Brydan sits across from me in our tucked away booth. The table has business cards for companies I've never heard of laid underneath the glass top. It's late—10:23. I know because I can't stop checking my phone.
I didn't want to stop. We're still four hours from the airport. But Brydan pointed out a motel that was behind a restaurant and wouldn't stop nagging until I pulled over. I can't think of a single time I've stayed in a motel. Brydan already made me stop for lunch—fast food that did not sit well in my stomach. I only recently got over the feeling that I was going to throw up every five minutes.
It's not like I have a plane to catch. The plane will take off when I tell it to, but still, stopping for the night feels like I'm accomplishing nothing. Not when Erik is still missing. Not when I don't know if she's alive.
Brydan flicks the saltshaker. "Would you relax?"
"I don't want to raise questions as to why we're here."
"We're eating."
I deadpan at him, and he shakes his head at me.
The waitress sets down the beers Brydan had asked for and then takes our orders. The pen shakes in her hand as she writes them down.
Once she's gone, I take a swig of the beer, letting my eyes drift closed.
"I can't believe my best friend is in love."
I open one eye. "I'm not in love."
He drinks from his own bottle. "Says the guy wallowing in love."
"If anything, it's pain."
"Without pain we wouldn't have love." He takes a longer drink this time. "Did you two ever kiss?"
Now it's I who take the longer drink. "Yes."
"Anything else?"
"No."
"Your determination to never have a one-night stand is impressive. Your morals, sir. . ." He clicks his tongue and raises his glass to me. I don't humor him.
"They are more guidelines for not having illegitimate heirs."
"Sure."
"I'd rather talk about your love life. Mine's just depressing."
Brydan shrugs. "There isn't much to talk about. The last guy ended up using me to get back his ex."
"Maybe love is a topic we should just stay away from."
Brydan takes a sip of his beer. "Good idea."
My phone buzzes in my pocket: a text from Eli.
Eli: That girl was a tramp. Good riddance I say.
Before I can unlock my phone, another text comes through. This one from August.
August: Guys have you seen my tie?
I unlock my phone and watch the texts roll in.
Bently: I think I saw it in the lounge.
Sebastian: My head is killing me. I hate you all.
August: Thank goodness. JoJo would have killed me.
JoJo?
"Who's that?" Brydan asks.
"My cousins."
"Is there anything new on Erik?"
"No, they're just talking."
Percy: You all ditched me in the maze.
Sebastian: Seriously, I'm not doing this again with you all.
August: Stop whining and come inside.
Eli: Really, no comment on my comment?
Riley: I didn't make you do anything. It was Enzo.
Bently: I found it amusing, Eli.
Enzo: Don't blame me. I already get shafted as it is.
Percy: IM LOST. SERIOUSLY HELP
Am I supposed to respond to this? I have a terrible feeling I know who it is Eli called a tramp, and if I'm right, I'm going to have to get involved.
Tobias: I was hoping for a little more action, Eli.
August: Fine I'm coming out after you, Percy. Where are you?
Bently: Personally I was pining for something more dramatic, Eli.
Percy: Oh I don't know...What part about being lost in a maze isn't clear???!!!
Tobias: Erik driving her off a cliff wasn't dramatic?
I wanted to believe otherwise—that they weren't talking about Iris, but I was wrong to believe the best of my cousins, my Order.
The waitress checks in on us, and Brydan orders two more beers for us. I don't say anything to her or Brydan, too busy deciding how to handle my cousins.
August: Can you not get your panties in a twist? I have half a mind to not come after you.
Percy: Riley, save me. August's too drunk.
Riley: You're too drunk.
Eli: I think Erik was hoping that Jonas would have killed her himself.
I slide my finger across the screen of my phone, unlocking it. They're drunk texting each other. It's discouraging I'm not surprised in the slightest. They've done it in the past, and in the past they've forgotten to make sure I wasn't on this group text. History repeats itself. Should I send a terrifyingly vague text or call them on a conference call and yell their ears off? Both seem appropriate.
Jonas: Next time you decide to have a drunken run through the maze, maybe you shouldn't start texting each other.
I click my phone off. I'll call them in a few minutes. They need to sweat since they seem to have developed a talent of garishly describing Iris's uncertain death.
I lean back in my seat. Brydan wrists rest on the table, his hands wrapped around his bottle. He frowns at me.
"Everything okay?"
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Once. Twice. Three times. The buzzes start spewing off too quickly to count. I force a shrug. "They're drunk. And they're quite annoying when they're drunk."
He grins at me and tips his bottle back to his mouth.
The restrooms are down a hallway—the perfect place to make this phone call. "Excuse me." I pull out my phone as I walk there, and for a moment I'm overwhelmed not by the content of the texts but the quantity of them.
Percy: Eli, you screw up.
Tobias: Jonas, hey, we love you.
Sebastian: It was Eli.
Eli: I'll kiss your feet every day for the next year.
Riley: You all are idiots.
Enzo: Despite what you read it wasn't my idea. It was Bently's.
Bently: I am terribly sorry for your loss.
Bently: Wait. What the hell, Enzo? Why are you blaming me? It was your idea to drink and then get lost in the maze.
August: Why aren't you responding, Jonas?
Sebastian: It was Enzo's idea. Eli was the one who started being a pig.
Riley: Jonas, I am so sorry.
Tobias: Enzo, stop blaming Bently.
August: Why isn't he responding?
Eli: I didn't mean it. I'm drunk, okay?
Percy: This is just great.
August: GUYS WHY ISN'T HE RESPONDING? Aren't you freaking out?
I call the group text and one by one their voices come pouring into my ear too quickly for me to even properly distinguish who is who—all blaming one another and apologizing.
"I'm gone for one day, and you all decide to go on a drunken frolic through the maze like a bunch of heathens? And you do this when Erik has run off, threatening to expose us? I wanted to trust you, after all you are my Order, but instead I wind up with texts on my phone calling Iris—she does have a name—a tramp. I don't know if she's alive or dead, but you have no right to joke about it. I get it—she's Expired," I hiss lowly, "but I am your cousin, and I actually liked this girl. For just one moment, can't you feel for me like any other person would for their cousin? You all don't seem to have too much difficulty forgetting you are princes of a damn country. I'd think you can manage to think of me as a person for once."
Silence comes from their end.
"I'm disappointed in all of you. Riley, Eli, I still better see the both of you tomorrow." I hang up and dial Gwen's number. She's at the Estate. She'll be able to handle them.
Disappointed. That's the perfect word to describe what I'm feeling.
She doesn't answer.
I head back to the booth. Neither our food nor our second round of beers have arrived. I set my phone next to me, wanting to be sure I don't miss anything from Gwen.
"And you're sure you're all right?" Brydan asks.
"Yeah." I finish off my beer in one swig. "Positive."
The waitress arrives with our food and beers. Her hand reaching for the beer bottle on her tray trembles.
"Could I have a water?" Brydan asks while she lifts the beer off the tray.
"Yeah—I mean, yes—"
She sets the bottle on the prongs of my fork, and it tilts forward, splattering over my left sleeve and pants.
Brydan's lip is struggling to hide a smile while the waitress looks like she's wishing it was her Expiration Date.
"Preeminence, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"
I hold up a hand, silencing her before exiting the booth. Beer drips off my clothes to the brick floor. "I'll be back."
I head outside to my car. I pop the trunk and dig through my duffle bag, pulling out a spare shirt. Somewhere in here is a roll of bandages. I push aside a shoe—there. I grab the roll and get in the passenger seat. I shut the door so the lights turn off. No one but me is in the parking lot.
I unbutton my shirt before unwrapping my bandage. I'll wait to change my pants until I get in the . . . motel room. I've never stayed in one, but I've heard plenty of nightmare stories.
My Mark used to hold such certainty for me, now I don't know what my future holds when I look at it.
I position the bandage at my wrist.
The driver's door opens, the car lights turn on, and Brydan pops his head inside. "You got a call from Gwen—" He stares at my Expiration Date.
"Brydan . . ."
"You didn't tell me." He's going to hate me.
"I wanted to." He has no idea what it was like knowing my whole life I was going to die at twenty-one, and the only people I had to talk about it with were my parents.
He slumps into the seat. "How?"
I wrap up my Mark. I never thought I would be having this conversation with Brydan. Yes, I thought about what it would be like if I could tell him, but I never thought it would ever happen. "I wasn't where I was supposed to be." The Date is nearly covered up now, but he can see it.
"That's the day Andrew set the bomb."
I nod and finish wrapping the bandage.
"Your cousin was supposed to be your death."
I don't respond. Instead I pull on the spare shirt.
"I can't believe I was about to lose you."
"Brydan, I wanted to . . ."
He chews on his lip, looking down at his lap.
"Iris is the only other person who knows, and that's only because she walked in on me like you did."
"I guess it's good you two found each other."
For the first time since Colton exposed Iris, my heart feels light again. I know it won't last long, but now I can finally tell my best friend the truth.