The Prince and the Punk [EDITING]

Chapter 39

Janice

"You have to go!" Danny insists with no small amount of enthusiasm.

Like me, he was re-hired at the café immediately following his discharge. We're sitting alone in the empty dining room, watching the rain pour down outside.

"Somehow, I knew you'd say that," I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Why would you not?" he asks.

"Are you serious? Besides the fact that it's probably another bullshit publicity stunt? Maybe because last time I had anything to do with the monarchy, I wound up on the goddamn moon. Maybe because they're solely responsible for my life turning to shit. Oh, and maybe because the King has a very deep, very personal grudge against me."

"Yeah... Okay, so there's a couple things that went wrong, but what about you and Xavier?" he reminds me. "Am I wrong in assuming that was good?"

"It was," I admit. "But it didn't last, remember? The monarchy destroyed it. Plus, if we'd never met, I wouldn't have gotten drafted, I wouldn't have dragged Slater to his death, and I wouldn't have to limp everywhere I fucking go." I'm pissed off now, and even less inclined to go to the event.

"Maybe it was all meant to me. Maybe if you and Slater hadn't been there, you wouldn't have helped end the war."

"Bullshit. Someone else would have."

"Okay, then tell me this—would it really be worth it to have never met either of them? If you had the option to go back right now and stop Xavier from ever coming into the café in the first place, would you?"

I hesitate. My answer should be yes, right? Yes, of course I'd go back if it meant saving Slater's life. I've done more harm than good. It would be selfish to say no. Still, I hesitate. What if I had spent the last ten months just working here and carrying on with my mundane life?

"It's... it's not that simple," I mumble.

"Of course it's not," Danny replies emphatically. "It shouldn't be." He shakes his head. "My point is, you should go. You should go and see Xavier again. Talk to him, try to get some closure. And you should take that medal. Show the world that Janice Elliott is one tough fucking cookie and it is not that easy to get rid of her. I mean, think of what a power move it would be to walk into the castle and shove your medal in the stupid King's face! Do it for me, Janice! I wanna see it." He stares off into the distance and holds out his hands like he can see the event projected in the air.

"You're good," I say after a moment. "When you put your mind to it, you're very, very good."

"So... are you gonna go?"

"I don't know, Danny... Last time I had anything to do with the monarchy, I got completely fucked over."

"Yeah, we've established that," he reminds me.

"So I'm sure you understand why I'd be wary of having anything to do with them."

He gives me a slow nod. "I guess in the end it just comes down to you. Are ready for everything to end now and go back to normal, or do you want to let them see you, one last time? Just so they know you're alive and kicking."

Silence.

It would be incredibly stupid to go to this thing. But what's one more stupid decision in the grand scheme of my life?

"I'll go," I sigh. "Fuck you for convincing me, but I'll go."

"Attagirl!" He claps his hands together and jumps up. "They didn't give you a plus one, did they?"

- - - -

I'm not wearing a ballgown this time.

I refuse to dress up for this occasion. Last time, I went overboard in that department, and the gown I bought is currently gathering dust—an eight-thousand-unit skeleton in my closet.

On the day of the ceremony, I throw on my plainest black dress and a black blazer that can almost pass as formal once I take the pins off of it. I don't bother with jewelry except for Slater's dog tags, which I can't bear to leave at home. I put on minimal makeup and hardly even check my reflection before walking out the door.

It's not until I'm on the bus and staring at him on the portscreen that I realize how nervous I am to see Xavier. It's been so long I don't even know what I'd say to him. And that's assuming I'd be able to get anywhere near him.

I think of everything that's happened since I last saw him—boot camp, Slater, the Moon, Mars, Xavier's wedding, my injury. So much has changed, but not enough to alter the course of either of our lives. The only difference is that now our paths lead away from each other.

I step off the bus and into the heart of the city, once again noting the way the place practically glows, opulence radiating off every building. Even the sidewalks seem shiny compared those in the outskirts. Technically, I live in this city. Not this neighborhood, but this city. It's baffling to think that the pristine black roads running through here are the same cracked, greying streets that run through my home; that these sharply-dressed, professional people in their mansion homes devolve into delinquents stacked on top of each other in shoddy apartments just a few miles down the road.

For the second time, a guard scans my barcode, confirming that I am indeed on the guest list, and lets me onto the grounds of the palace. I walk through the garden and between the rows of guards towards the gargantuan building, stopping when I reach the looming wooden doors. They're open, and the entry room is littered with people, but I feel wrong going in.

Before I can overthink things, someone runs through the doors and wraps me in a tight hug. My leg buckles, worn out from carrying me along the path to the palace and not prepared for whoever has just collided into me.

"Ah, shit! I'm sorry!" The person steps back, and upon seeing her face, I recognize Nita.

"Nita?" I gasp.

"Hi!" she replies, excitement audible in her voice. She takes my arm and practically drags me into the palace. "Goddamn, you have no idea how good it is to see you! I lost my mind when I saw them taking you back to the shuttle. I mean, I saw, you, I saw blood, I saw a stretcher, and my heart stopped." She holds out her hands and widens her eyes, miming her apparent cardiac arrest.

I laugh. "It's good to see you, too."

"You know, they wouldn't even tell me if you were dead. I had to go the rest of the war not knowing! But you're here!" Her face stretches into the world's biggest grin.

"I'm here," I say with a smile. "Here and more or less intact."

"Oh, shit, yeah. I noticed." She looks down at my leg, like she might be able to see my scar through the black leggings I'm wearing under my dress. "I'm sorry."

I can't tell whether she's apologizing for nearly tackling me or giving her condolences for the injury.

"It's fine," I assure her. "It doesn't hurt—it's just not my strongest limb."

"Um, I'm sorry about... Slater, too. They did tell us about him."

I wince. "Thanks." She opens her mouth to say something else, but I can't handle a Slater conversation right now, so I quickly add, "I'm really glad you're here! I almost wasn't gonna come to this thing, but now I'm glad I did."

She gets the hint. "Well, good!" There's an awkward pause. "This place is gorgeous," she awes, gesturing to the grandeur surrounding the both of us.

"Yeah." I glance around, recalling how amazed I was the first time I saw the palace. Now it's just sickening.

Suddenly my breath hitches and my lips part involuntarily as my eyes lock with a pair of familiar green ones.

++++

Reminder that Janice and Xavier haven't actually seen each other since Chapter 15... Which is very odd since these are my romantic leads.

Vote and comment to give me the algorithm boost I crave!