THE DARK PRINCE
Three girls approach me on The Steps at seven fifteen sharp.
"We're so sorry we're late!" They all say in unison and hand me the obligatory queen's breakfast: a cup of yogurt. For some reason it's plain.
I really didn't care they were late. I was hoping they wouldn't show up at all. The last thirty minutes were spent biting my nails in a nervous panic and now they are all frayed.
"Blair said you take the first one plain," A redhead says to me and hands over the yogurt. I remember the look Blair gave me when I started eating it yesterday and hesitate for a second. The hesitation doesn't last long before I dip my spoon deep inside the plastic cup. I skipped breakfast, like I always did before. This is a nice perk I could get used to.
"Thank you," I say and smile at the girls. They look at me strangely, and I instantly feel like I don't belong. I'm just Little J from Brooklyn, and I always will be. I want to stand and walk—no, run home and stay there all day. My appetite is ruined and I don't really know what else to say, so I sit my cup next to me and let the inevitable dread of the upcoming year envelop me.
The redhead continues speaking. "Blair says the first cup is vanilla, and after that you tell us what you want. So what'll it be?"
"Um." I don't know…what's good on yogurt? Why do these girls know so much about all of this?
I sigh. My minions know everything and I feel like a fool.
Minions—I hate that word. It will be changed ASAP.
The girls look at me strangely. I just say 'strawberries' because I like them and don't want to sit in this awkward moment any longer.
"Great!" The redhead says happily. "I'm Halle by the way. This is Allie," Halle gestures to her left where a dark haired girl stands.
"And I'm Cali." The blonde on Halle's right spouts.
I instantly forget their rhyme-y names. I'm going to need to write all this down. Ugh, these nerves!
"We'll be with you for the rest of the year. At the end you can decide whether or not we will continue your high school career with you or not."
My insides squirm. This is all so…business-like.
"Ok." Is all I say, quickly but also firm. I don't smile and they seem to take that better. Freaks.
What am I thinking? I'm the biggest freak of them all. We look like fools standing in front of The Metropolitan like we're actually Somebody's in the world. The worst part is these three actually think we are.
Two blocks and two hours later I'm in a boring math class, then history, and I'm heading to art. This whole queen thing really isn't that hard. I haven't had to deal with any of the minion things since we got to school and pointlessly announced my 'rule' to the cafeteria—not like anyone didn't know already. News like this spreads through school like wildfire with Gossip Girl.
I thought there was a lot more to holding all this power, but the only power I really hold is the key in my bag that allows me to access every room in the school. Some power. I wonder if the girls know about the key and make a note to ask them later.
The seemingly endless stream on one unpleasant thought to the next suddenly freezes when I walk in the art room.
Damien Dalgaard sits at a table by himself toward the back. I start towards a table on the other side before he looks at me. Damn.
I can't help myself. I take my time walking to his table and thinking about what to say. I just can't believe he's here.
"Shouldn't you be going to school in, like, a whole other country? I thought your Dad was the ambassador of Belgium and you a prince in waiting?"
"He is. I am." Damien says bluntly and gestures for me to sit.
I'm confused. The whole politics thing always confused me, which is also probably why 'Queen' doesn't make much sense either.
I don't have a chance to say anything else because our teacher stands and introduces himself. He's lean, tall, and almost as blond as me. He walks to the old school chalk board at the front and I can tell he's not much older than me by the way he moves. As our teacher writes something on the board I turn to Damien.
"So why are you here?" I whisper. "I haven't seen you since…" The sentence trails off my lips. We both know the last time we saw each other. Things didn't go well.
"Look, Jenny. Things are happening around here that you need to know about. They've been going on for quite a number of years, actually. I really think—"
"Good morning class," our new teacher says and gestures to the board where he has written his name. "As you can see, I am Ben Gile. But you can call me Mr. Gile. Since this is the first day I'd like us all to get to know one another a little better. I have your names here in alphabetical order. When I read off your name I'd like you to stand up and tell us something interesting about yourself."
After the first few students I tune them out and turn to Damien. "What do you mean things have been happening around here?"
Damien slowly shook his head. "We can't talk about this here. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"Damien!" I hiss. What was going on? I hate all the secrets everybody keeps around here.
"Later. We need some—
"Mr. Dalgaard," Mr. Gile interrupts us and Damien freezes. "Please stand up and tell us something about yourself. Perhaps you would like to tell us about the important news you needed to tell…" Mr. Gile looks down at the paper in his hands, then back to Damien. "…Ms. Humphrey?"
"Uh, no. No sir." Damien says and relaxes.
"Very well then, let us continue. You may go ahead, Damien."
Damien stands up and smiles. "Hi, all. My name is Damien Dalgaard and I am from Belgium. I am also a vampire hunter."
"Ah! I think we've found the class clown. Thank you Damien. Next we have… Wilson Crole?
Wilson stands as Damien sits down next to me and winks.
"What was that about?" I whisper. A vampire hunter? Was that supposed to be funny? It was kind of lame.
"Nothing. We'll talk later."
