The Thrill Is Gone

The first decision letter to arrive was from Stanford. She hadn’t expected to hear back from them so soon. It was barely the 24th of March, and the last time, when she was anxiously waiting to hear their decision regarding her undergraduate education, their letter hadn’t arrived until the very last day of March. But this time around, it got there early. This time around, it was the very first one she received.

At first, she’d mistaken the letter as nothing more than rubbish. The mailman had gotten the package jumbled up with the numerous adverts that the local stores sent out to lure in customers, and thinking nothing much of the small stack, she’d carelessly thrown it onto the coffee table while she looked over the bills that had arrived, and a letter from the judicial system explaining in great detail when News of the World was to deliver the court awarded sum they’d been ordered to pay Paulina. She lost herself in that letter for quite some time, reading over each line, and jotting down notes when necessary. She’d have to get in touch with the IRS, figure out how it was that they’d go about taking taxes from her court settlement, because if there was one thing Paulina was certain of, it was that such a large sum wouldn’t go undetected by the federal government. And the last thing she wanted was to get audited because the government hadn’t received their share. So she jotted down the notes, took out her laptop and sent out the necessary inquiries to the government agency. There were three emails in total that were sent out, and it would be 3-4 business days before she received a response.

With that taken care of, she set aside her laptop and decided to fix herself a snack. She was running low on food, there would only be enough to last another day or two, but she wasn’t in the mood to venture outside where the press awaited her presence. So instead, she made due with what she had, and cut up two apples, sliced up a lemon which was then squeezed atop the apples, and added generous amounts of chili powder that her mom had brought over for her. That would hold her over until dinnertime. She planned on ordering Chinese takeaway or maybe some curry, since she’d been craving that as well, but at the moment she was going to feast on her apples. So she made her way back to the couch, and propped her legs onto the coffee table, and when she did that, her right foot sent the adverts hurling towards the floor, and it was then, that the package was no longer covered by a Tesco advert and a promotional offer for a local car wash that was celebrating its grand opening.

She didn’t notice at first, having dismissed the fallen papers as nothing more than rubbish that would be thrown out later on. Her attention was held by the television, that was about to start airing a marathon of The Inbetweeners. She’d heard good things about the show. Callum and Terry often raved that it was one of the funniest programs they’d ever seen in their lives. And deciding that it’s be a good enough way to spend a lazy afternoon, she proceeded to watch the six, half hour episodes.

By the end of the marathon, her stomach hurt from laughing, and she wanted nothing more than to post a link to it on Facebook so her friends back home could check it out, but just as she was reaching out for her laptop, she remembered that she didn’t have a Facebook anymore, she didn’t belong to any online social media.

Since she couldn’t post about it, she sent a link to Rudy via email. He’d appreciate the antics of the four friends, and share it with the rest of their group. Feeling certain that she’d get her friends hooked on the show, she decided it was time to do some laundry. All she had left were sweats and mesh shorts, and she wouldn’t be able to wear those out without being criticized over it on the damn gossip programs or tabloids. So she got up, fully intent on doing something remotely productive with her day, but it was then, just as she was beginning to stand from her place on the couch, that she noticed the large package on the floor, and when she saw the emblem from Stanford, a massive grin swept across her face.

She didn’t even have to open it to know what was inside. Acceptance letters were always sent out in large packages to house all the welcoming material, and financial offers, and housing options. Rejection letters were sent out in a standard sized envelope, with only one page that informed the recipient that the university was unable to offer them admission at that particular point in time. Paulina had received her fair share of rejection letters the last time around. Harvard said no. Brown said she was waitlisted, which then ended up being a no. Yale said no. But that was alright, because she’d gotten into Stanford, and now, as she stared at the package, she knew she’d been accepted again.

And sure enough, when the packaging was torn open, there was a letter of congratulations, stating that she’d been admitted into Stanford Law School. It went onto list various other things, when the statement of intent to register ought to be submitted, what website she had to visit in order to do so, and a few other things, but truth be told, she didn’t read any of that, because as soon as she’d read that they were pleased to offer her admission, she clutched the letter to her chest in relief. If she was rejected everywhere else, then at least she’d had a place at Stanford. It may not have been Harvard, but it was a prestigious educational institution, and she already knew the ropes around there, she knew the area, and could live comfortably there in the apartment complex she’d once resided in.

When her initial joy subsided, she set down the letter, and picked up the phone to call home. She knew her dad wasn’t going to be there, he left for work at six every morning, and if her calculations were correct, it was currently a half past eight in California. Luis, well, he would be sleeping, since he would’ve surely gotten back from the hospital in the late hours of the night, but her mother would be there, alert and tending to the garden as she accustomed in the mornings. It was with her mother that she’d share her accomplishment, and later on, when her dad got home from work and her brother woke up, they’d get to talk via Skype and take in the moment as a family.

Sure enough, when Paulina called, her mother was busy in the garden. She was taking out some stubborn weeds that seemed to have sprouted overnight, and she was so engrossed in the process that she almost didn’t hear the phone ringing. It rang once, twice, and it wasn’t until the fourth time that she took note of the noise. And as soon as she did, she sprinted towards the garden table, wiping the dirt from her hands on her apron as she did so.

“Bueno?” she answered in Spanish, slightly out of breath. “Hello?” she said a second time, her brow gleaming with sweat as she took a seat.

“Mama!” exclaimed Paulina, her voice conveying all her joy and relief. “I got into Stanford!” she yelled before her mother even had a chance to speak. “I got in!”

“Jesus, Maria, y Jose (Jesus, Mary, and Joseph)!” cried Irmalinda, overjoyed at the news. “¿Te aceptaron en Stanford? ¡Que felicidad mi niña hermosa, que felicidad! Tu papa se va volver loco cuando le diga. . . pues, no creo que me vaya aguantar hasta que venga del trabajo, horitita mismo le voy hablar. Y también a tus hermanos y a tus tías y tíos. Bendito sea Dios, Paulina. Bendito sea que te aceptaron. ¿Y dime, como fue que supiste? ¿Te dijeron por la computadora o te llego por el correa? Por que horita es muy temprano para saber. Oh sea me hace a mi que es temprano por que la ultima vez case era Abril cuando te dejaron saber. (Stanford accepted you? What joy my wonderful daughter, what joy! Your dad’s going to be beside himself when I tell him. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ll be able to wait until he gets home from work. I’ll call him straight away. And also your brothers and aunts and uncles! And tell me, how was it that you found out? Did they tell you on the computer or did you get something in the mail? Because it feels to early to have found out, that is, what I'm trying to say is that I think it’s early, because the last time they didn’t let us know until it was almost April.)”

Irmalinda questioned her daughter nonstop for the following seventeen minutes. She wanted to know absolutely everything regarding the admission. She needed to know what the letter said, what other papers had arrived alongside the package, and whether or not she’d received any other supplementary information via the internet. Irmalinda wanted to be well informed so she could repeat the specifics to her husband, her sons, and to the rest of the family in California and Mexico, because being accepted into Stanford was something she wanted to share with the entire family. It was an accomplishment that everyone could be proud of. Since in their family, education was highly valued. It didn’t matter whether that education came from a community college or a four year university, what mattered was that an education was being pursued, and that the children would have a chance at a comfortable future.

And that moment, marked the first of many to come in which Irmalinda would question her daughter incessantly regarding admissions letters, because the following day, Paulina was admitted into UCLA, and the day after that, came the letter from USC, which also welcomed her into the program.

It was an exciting time for Paulina. There was nothing better than knowing she’d been accepted into respectable law programs, but despite her happiness, it was also a nerve-racking time, because even though she’d received acceptance letters from Stanford, UCLA, and USC, there were still two institutions that she hadn’t heard from.

The decision letters from Harvard and Oxford had yet to arrive.

By the 26th of March, Paulina had heard back from the other schools. They’d sent their packages, and done their part to urge her to submit a statement of intent to register, but Paulina couldn’t bring herself to do that, not until she heard back from the last two law programs. She feared they might reject her, that that was why she hadn’t gotten word from them yet. Maybe they sent out their acceptance letters early, to relieve the stress of those fortunate enough to be accepted into the program. They were the priority, and had to be treated as such. The applicants that were rejected could fester in their insecurities a bit longer. After all, what difference would it make to them? They weren’t to be allowed in, and the odds were, that they knew they were unworthy.

At least that’s what Paulina’s mind told her. It made a habit of reminding her of that at random intervals throughout the day. It reminded her that there was a very real possibility she might not be accepted into either program. Both Harvard and Oxford could turn her down. And it was thoughts like those that had a way of putting a damper on her day for a few minutes at a time. She would think about the future with a heavy heart, wonder what route she was to take if Harvard denied her, and although her felicity was great, powerful enough to keep her excited and pleased for most of the day, there were minutes when those thoughts overpowered her, and her mind was stolen by her insecurities.

Paulina just wanted things to be over with. She wanted to know where she stood with those schools, so she could get on with her life. Would she be upset if she wasn’t accepted into Harvard? Yes. She’d be utterly devastated. In fact, it was very likely that she’d spend a week crying and sulking in her apartment, but at some point, she’d move on and submit her intent to register to Stanford. She just needed to know what was going on, because the uncertainty was driving her mad.

She had spent months praying that before her twenty-fourth birthday she would have received all the damn decision letters, but the eve of her birthday came and went without the last two letters. And when she awoke on the twenty-seventh, she couldn’t help but hope that perhaps that would be the day when the final decisions would arrive. That it’d be some sort of birthday gift from the universe to her.

“Today’s the day,” she whispered to herself when she woke up that morning. “It has to be.”

Although Paulina wanted nothing more than to spend her day lounging about the apartment, waiting for the mail to arrive, she knew she couldn’t waste her day like that. It was her birthday. The celebration of her twenty-fourth year on earth, and there was a celebratory breakfast she had to get to. Alfred and Olivia had made her promise to set time aside for them in the morning, they were to pick her up at ten past seven, and were going to keep her until noon. She hadn’t a clue as to where they were going to eat or what they were going to do with their morning, but she knew it’d be an enjoyable time. It always was when she was with them, and she hoped that being in her company would be enough to keep her from obsessing over the admissions letters that had yet to arrive.

Paulina rushed to get ready. She’d woken up later than she’d intended to, a result of her having pressed the snooze button far more times than she should’ve. And when her friends rang the buzzer for her to let them in, she was barely putting her mascara on. She rushed through the rest of it, quickly putting on her blush and lipstick, and by the time they knocked on the door, she was just slipping on her flats.

“Just a minute!” she yelled as she slipped on her flats while she walked towards the door. “Almost there!” When she finally reached the door, she brushed her bangs out of her face, and after taking a deep breath, opened it. “Sorry about that, I was –”

“Happy Birthday!” exclaimed Alfred and Olivia in unison.

And while Alfred stood in the doorway, holding a massive bouquet of sunflowers, Olivia pounced on Paulina. She took her friend into an embrace so tight that Paulina swore she’d been left short of breath. That was a classic thing for Olivia to do. She had a habit of hugging a bit too tightly whenever she was overly excited. She’d forget her strength, and hug and hug, until the person being held was robbed of breath. Then, after a minute or so had passed, Olivia would realize what she’d done. Her cheeks would flush with color, and she’d ramble on awkwardly, apologizing for having hugged too tightly. Not that she had to apologize for that. Not to Paulina at least, and most definitely never to Alfred. Her hugs might have made breathing difficult, but they also made the recipient feel incredibly loved and appreciated, a fair enough trade in Paulina’s opinion.

“Oh! Bloody hell!” cursed Olivia when she realized she’d been hugging too fiercely. “There I’ve gone and mucked up another hug. I always do that when I'm too pleased. Sorry though, I know how much you like to breathe, but I'm just so excited! It’s your birthday! Isn’t that fantastic? It’s absolutely fantastic! And we’re all together again, just like last year, and . . .” her faced flushed when she realized she’d been rambling a bit too quickly to be understood. “Never mind that,” she said. “I'm just pleased to be here, is all. Happy Birthday, again, Paulin!” she exclaimed once last time.

Paulina couldn’t help but laugh, and she pulled Olivia into another hug, seizing the opportunity to place a quick kiss on her cheek. “Thanks Via, really, thank you so much for everything.”

“Via’s not the only one here, you know.” Alfred stepped in, and closed the door behind him. “I said Happy Birthday as well, but I’ve not been acknowledged.” He feigned hurt.

“I was gonna get to you. You wanker,” said Paulina with a little smirk.

“Were you then?”

“Obviously,” she moved towards him. “I just had to hug our lovely lady first, and then make my way to the resident senior citizen.”

“Hah. As if you’re one to talk. You’re twenty-four now! Before you know it, you’ll be stiff in the joints. And I’ll be having a laugh. In fact, I believe I’ll start now with that. It’s good to get the laughing underway.” And he tilted his head back a bit, and forced out a laugh.

“I don’t see why you’re ass is laughing. You’re two years older.” Paulina reminded him.

“Yeah, well, I can still have a laugh.” He smiled. “Now stop being such a massive ass so I can give you a hug.”

“Oi!” she exclaimed. “You can’t talk to me like that. It’s my birthday.”

“Birthday or not, you’re still an ass.” He chuckled. “S’alright though. We wouldn’t have you any other way.”

It was then that Alfred hugged her. He wasn’t the best at hugging. Truth be told, he had a habit of being a bit stiff in his embraces. There were instances in which he was very much warm and friendly in his embrace, but for the most part, he was a bit rigid. As if he feared that he wasn’t doing it very well, and as a result of that fear, he ended up not doing it very well. But at that instant, the hug he gave Paulina was one of his better ones; it expressed his fondness for her, his appreciation. And although his hug would never rival that of Olivia’s, he was rather pleased with it.

“Twenty-four,” he mused aloud as they pulled away. “How you feeling about that?” he asked.

“Not sure yet,” she told him. “I still feel twenty-three, if that makes any sense. That’s probably because I'm still technically twenty-three. I don’t turn twenty-four until later on, not technically at least.”

“That’s right. I’d forgotten you were born in the evening.” He paused. “Will you be making the same toast as last year, then?” Alfred couldn’t help but bring it up. He’d honestly gotten a kick out of it, even if Olivia had thought it disgusting.

Olivia scrunched her nose at the thought. “Honestly, Alfie, don’t remind her of that. I’d only just forgotten that toast of hers.”

“It was a great fucking toast.” Paulina beamed, knowing very well how much it had grossed out Olivia. “Arguably one of my best, now that I think of it . . . hmm, in fact, I think I’ll say it later on when we’re all hanging out at the club.”

“Club?” repeated Alfred. “I thought you said that was tomorrow.” He turned to Olivia. “Didn’t she say that was tomorrow, love?”

“I think so.” Olivia replied. “Though to be honest, I don’t really remember all that well at the present.”

“Well I'm glad we’re having breakfast or else you two wouldn’t have shown up at the club tonight. I bet it’s all the sex you two are having. That’s what’s making you forgetful.” She smirked victoriously when she saw their faces turn a violent shade of pink. “But anyways, it’s tonight. Tomorrow I'm having a party here. Remember? Tonight’s drinking at a club and dancing and doing all that stuff. And tomorrow’s drinking here and getting seriously drunk.”

“See, we thought that was happening on Sunday. That was why we thought the club was tomorrow.” Alfred couldn’t believe he’d gotten the days mixed up. “Well no matter, we’ll be here. I’ve even picked up for the occasion.”

“Alfie!” cried Olivia, her eyes narrowed dangerously at him. “You weren’t meant to tell her that, you daft fool! That’s part of her present. Remember?”

“That must’ve slipped my mind, truly.”

“Honestly, Alfred . . .” Olivia muttered, shaking her head in disapproval. “I told you not to say anything, and you never say anything, you’re always so . . . well, so quiet. But now you’ve said it and . . . oh, no matter. Paulina, forget what you’ve heard, alright?”

“I seriously don’t even know what Alfred said that was so wrong, but consider it forgotten.” Paulina slipped on her coat. “So, should we head out now?”

“Yes! We should.” The disapproving look vanished from Olivia’s face, and the smile settled back into its usual place.

“Alright, cool. Let me just put these flowers in some water, and then we’ll get going. Thanks again for them, they’re beautiful!”

As quickly as she could, she found a suitable vase for her sunflowers. In the recent months, Harry had been sending flowers like mad to her, little touches to let her know that he was thinking of her, and as a result of that, Paulina had grown to have an extensive vase collection. They actually took up an entire cupboard under the sink, and it took a bit of looking to find one that would do well for the sunflowers, but as soon as she found it, she filled it up with water, and after having slipped a couple of ice cubes into the vase, announced that she was ready to go.

Neither Olivia nor Alfred, were particularly looking forward to exiting the apartment complex. Sure, they were excited to have breakfast with their friend, it was something they’d spent the week looking forward to, but they didn’t want to bother with the damn press that lingered about the main entrance, with cameras hanging about their necks, anxiously awaiting a sighting of the young prince’s girlfriend. And the worst of it was that there was more press outside than usual. Apparently, everyone figured that since it was her birthday, there was a very good chance that something worth catching on film would happen. So they stood around, waiting for Paulina to step out, and when she did finally emerge from the building, they descended upon her.

“Happy Birthday Paulina!” cried a woman in an ill fitting green blouse. “Twenty-four now, is it? Must be a terribly exciting day for you,” she went on. “Have you anything to say?”

Paulina had a lot to say, but none of it could be said in public, not with all of them around. She had to keep quiet, keep walking forward, without acknowledging their presence anymore than she absolutely had to.

“I see you’re a bit shy, that’s s’alright, Miss. I'm sure your mates would be more than obliging to us. How about it then, love, want to give us a word?” she asked Alfred. “What plans have you got for Paulina’s birthday? Anything exciting?” she pressed. “Is His Royal Highness coming to celebrate?”

“Don’t be daft!” cried a male reporter. “Of course he’s coming out for his bird’s birthday! I bet he’s something spectacular planned for it. Do you know what he’s planning, Miss? Come on, a smart girl like you, has to have figured something out.”

They dealt with the press during the entirety of their walk to the car, and even after they’d slipped inside, the press was still pestering them. They had swarmed to the side where Paulina sat, and were busy snapping shots of her, even though she wasn’t doing anything.

“Bunch of fucking assholes,” she cursed. “Go ahead, take your damn pictures, I'm just parading around for your amusement. Sorry about them.” She shot Olivia and Alfred an apologetic look.

“S’alright.” Alfred reassured. “It’s not like you tell them to be out there.”

“Exactly!” said Olivia. “And they don’t matter much, not right now, because they’re out there, and we’re in here, and we’ll be getting on soon enough. Today will be brilliant, Paulina. Well, this morning will be brilliant with us, since we’ve got to drop you off at noon for Harry, but it’ll be brilliant and then later tonight, that’ll be brilliant to.”

Olivia wasn’t lying when she said their morning would be brilliant. They’d reserved a table at Paulina’s favorite restaurant. It wasn’t anything fancy, but since it was so well known for breakfast, people had to reserve tables if they didn’t want to wait a half hour to be seated. And Alfred and Olivia had even specified that they wanted a table towards the back, and that was exactly what they got. The table was so far towards the back that it was right next to the kitchen door, and although that might have normally annoyed them, it was most welcomed, because there were no windows by there, and they were tucked off in such a corner that not even their fellow patrons could steal glances their way without making a spectacle of their endeavor.

It was a great place to sit, and Paulina relished in the privacy it afforded them. She laughed and joked around with her friends like she did in the days before her relationship with Harry went public. She wasn’t guarded about how she spoke, she felt comfortable enough to talk like she did when they were at their apartments, it was a nice change to be able to just sit back in public and enjoy delicious food with two of her closest friends.

She may not have known for them years upon years, but Alfred and Olivia, were the sort of people that Paulina knew she could count on no matter what. They knew things about her that the press would pay handsomely to find out, they’d actually been approached by the media several times, but they’d never uttered a word to them, they’d never betrayed her trust, which was more than what she could say for a lot of people back home whom she’d known since kindergarten. She loved them, she truly did, and spending her birthday morning with them was the best way to start the celebrations. In fact, being with them was enough to take her mind off of the decision letters that had yet to arrive.

Not once, did she stop to wonder if the mail had arrived yet or whether or not the letters would be waiting for her when she got home. All she could think about were the stories Alfred was telling them, the jokes Olivia was saying, and then, when they left the restaurant and relocated to the botanic garden, all she could think about was how long it’d been since they’d last been there. It was one of their favorite spaces; they all had a love for nature, and strolling through it was nothing short of brilliant.

At least, it was until Harry called.

Paulina thought he was calling to tell her that he’d already arrived at the apartment or that he’d run into a bit of traffic, something along those lines, but it turned out there’d been an emergency in London, apparently his friends had gotten into trouble.

“You’re shitting me, right?” She had to actively stop herself from screaming, she didn’t need Alfred and Olivia overhearing the conversation. “You’ve got to be.”

“Wish I was, but I'm not messing about.” Harry took in a deep breath, knowing very well the conversation wouldn’t end well. “Jake . . . well, he got himself caught with a bit of coke in the loo. Not much, from what he said, but enough for it to have gotten him taken into custody, and I’ve got to get to London to sort things out for him.

Jake Warren was one of Harry’s friends that she couldn’t stand in the least. He was a pretentious little asshole that thought Paulina unworthy of his friend. He was smart enough to mask his contempt for her in front of Harry, out of respect for his mate, but as soon as Harry left, there was a change in him. He became a disagreeable little twat whose face seemed to beckon a punch or two. Tom Inskip had seen Jake in action a few times, and each time, he’d intervened right before Paulina lost her temper. Tom knew how Jake got. He was protective of Harry, and never truly approved of anyone other than Chelsy, but Tom wasn’t about to stand around and let Jake be an utter ass to Paulina. Whether Jake liked it or not, Paulina was Harry’s girlfriend and had to be treated as such. Tom endeavored to make Jake like her. He praised her, told him that if he just gave her a chance, he’d warm up to her and think her brilliant company, but Jake was resolved in his dislike for her, and Paulina detested him every bit as much as he did her.

“Cocaine?” she practically hissed. “They fucking got him for coke?” She struggled to keep her voice down, even though she was hidden by a few overgrown bushes, she didn’t want anyone peeking their heads around there. “What an idiot. Why’s he going around doing that stupid ass shit in public? Doesn’t he know better? He should know better by now. He’s been friends with you for ages.”

“He should, but he fucked up. Alright?” he said. “Everyone fucks up every once in awhile, except his fucking up involved coke and now I’ve got to sort things out for him.”

“And how do you plan on doing that? If the cops got him already, then that’s the end of that. He’s probably been processed and put in the system.”

“He hasn’t been.” Harry had had that same reaction when he’d spoken to Jake, but Jake made it clear that he’d not yet been processed. “Apparently, they didn’t make a big fuss about it, since they know who he is, who he’s connected to. He says I’ve just got to go and see things through, that that’ll be enough.”

“Can’t someone else do that?” She knew she was being selfish, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to spend her birthday with her boyfriend. If she couldn’t be with her family, then she could at least be with him. “He has other connections. He’s always bragging about them, so let him call those people up.”

“None of his other connections have the sway I do. I'm a bloody prince, Paulin! And I’ve got to go help my mate out. I can’t leave him and Chels –”

“What was that?” Her voice dropped down to just above a whisper, it was unnervingly low, and despite the distance, despite the fact that he couldn’t see the alternating emotions that flashed across her face, a chill ran down his back. “Did you just say, Chelsy?” She still hadn’t forgotten the kissing fiasco in South Africa. She never brought it up, that would’ve been in bad taste, but she never forgot it, and she didn’t care for the leggy blonde that had been latched to Harry’s lips.

“Don’t make something out of nothing, Paulina.” He implored. “It’s not . . . look, I'm not running off to London to help her out. It’s not her I'm concerned over. It’s Jake. And she just happened to be with him at the time and now I’ve –”

“Now you have to keep two cokeheads from going to jail.” Paulina interjected.

“Oi!” he yelled in indignation. “Don’t call them that. They might have had themselves a bump in the look, but they’re sure as hell not cokeheads.”

“Are you hearing yourself? They were doing coke at a restaurant during lunchtime. Now, I know they were in the loo and all, but even then, I'm sure there were people going in and out of there, so they were being reckless. Because a smart coke user wouldn’t have been so damn obvious about it. They would’ve done the coke on the way to the restaurant or after, not at the fucking restaurant. Only cokeheads do that kind of shit. And I'm sorry, but I have to say, that those two are cokeheads.”

“They’re not cokeheads!”

“They are!” she yelled, startling a few birds that were perched in the nearby bushes. “And it’s obvious that you’re not even conflicted bout missing my birthday in order to go help those two out.”

“Hold on a minute, there. That’s a load of bull! Do ya think I want to be in London, dealing with the police when I could be alone with you? Do ya really think I’d rather not be with you? Because if you do, then something’s off in that head of yours,” he was trying his best not to get so worked up, but he couldn’t help it, he was being swept up in the emotion of it all. “I want to be with you, believe me, I do. It’s just . . . I’ve somewhere else I need be. Not that I don’t need to be with you, I do, but I’ve got to have this sorted out. If Gran finds out about what’s going on with Jakes, she’ll tell his dad, and if his dad finds out, Jake’s liable to get a sound beating.”

“Good! I think that’s exactly what he needs. His dad needs to give him a good smacking around to get him off that crap. He’s not doing himself any favors by using that.”

“He’s not. I know that, but there’s no need for his dad to find out. Imagine if your parents found out you use marijuana?”

“I don’t use anymore.” She told him. “I haven’t since we went public, because I know it’d be stupid of me to pick up from a dealer while I'm being followed around or to smoke when there are people camped outside my window. And your friend should know better as well. He’s been at this for years!”

She was right, annoyingly so, but she was right. He didn’t want to acknowledge it though. He just needed to get her to be alright with his missing out most of her birthday.

“Darling, I need to do this.” He only ever called her darling when he was in a lot of fucking trouble or when he really wanted something. “My mate needs me. And I know it’s alright, with it being your birthday and all, but I’ve got to do this. If he was Rudy, and you were me, you’d do it as well. Wouldn’t you?”

“Rudy’s not stupid enough to go around doing drugs in public.”

“Don’t be like this, darling.” He spoke with such tenderness, that she almost felt herself slip away, she almost began to think that she could do without him on her birthday, but then he spoke, and even the tenderness with which he said it, wasn’t enough to compensate for his words. “I want to say it won’t take long, but I honestly don’t know long my sorting things will last. Why don’t you just stay put at home until I get in? Linger about and then I’ll get there when I can. How’s that sound?”

“Stay put?” she hissed, the spell his tone had placed on her, vanished. “What am I dog? You want me to stay put! Fuck that. It’s my birthday! And maybe that doesn’t mean much to you, but it means everything to me! And I'm sure as hell not gonna spend it at the apartment, waiting for you to show up. I'm not gonna spend my birthday doing nothing by myself! I'm gonna hang out with my friends. Go ahead with the plans we’d made for tonight.”

“Plans?” he asked. He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have let her know that he’d forgotten their plans for the evening. “What do ya mean, plans?”

“Are you serious right now?” she whispered in astonishment. “Have you seriously forgotten my birthday plans? The plans I’d been talking to you about for the last week?”

“I –”

“You know what? Don’t even bother coming over tonight. I won’t be in. I’ll be out doing the plans, you can’t remember. Just come over tomorrow.”

“There’s no point in being dramatic. Only understand that I’ve –”

“I always understand!” she shrieked, and that time, it wasn’t birds that she scared, it was the groundskeeper who was doing a walk about the property. “Alright, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but I understand well enough most of the time! And you can’t say that’s not true, because you know it is. I put up with only seeing you for two days out of the month, sometimes four if I'm lucky. And I do that because I know how important your training is. I know that you have duties and responsibilities to see to. Believe me, I understand all that, which is why I never complain when you cancel plans at the last minute, because you had to take over an appearance for Wills or your dad. I never fucking complain about that, because I understand how important it is that you do it. And you know what? If you were canceling on me, because your family needed you, I wouldn’t be hysterical right now. Would I’ve been disappointed? Yeah, fuck yeah, I would’ve. But I would’ve understood. But this . . . you running off to get those two idiots off the hook for doing coke, this I can’t understand, especially not on my birthday.” She pinched the bridge of the nose, attempting to fight off her tears. “You promised you’d be here.”

“And I would if I –”

“But you’re not gonna be here, because you have to sort Jake’s mess out. Look, Harry I get that you’ve known them longer than me and that you can really help them, but it’s my fucking birthday. And I don’t give a damn if I sound like a selfish bitch right not, because I deserve to spend my birthday with my boyfriend! But apparently, I can’t have that. You’ve got to go somewhere else. But whatever, like I said, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re being bloody unreasonable!” His temper was beginning to flare. “It’s not like I meant for this to happen. It just sort of did and now I have to do my bit to –”

“Go ahead! Sort things out for them, get them out of trouble. All I know is I'm done with this conversation.”

“The hell you are!” he wasn’t about to have her hang up on him, without having settled things. “This damn conversations not over until you stop being cross with me.”

“Well that’s not happening, so bye Henry, have fun.” She quickly hung up, and stuffed her phone into her purse. “Fucking prick,” she muttered angrily. “Tells me for weeks he’s gonna be here for my birthday, that he set aside the damn day, but now, now he’s telling me that he has to go help Chelsy and Jake. Fuck those putos . . .” her ranting was abruptly stopped when she heard her mobile begin to ring. Sure enough, Harry was calling, and since he was the last person she wanted to talk to, she didn’t pick up. She ignored the call and then put her phone on silent. “You can go fuck yourself, Your Royal Highness.”