The Runaway Bride

CHAPTER 8: Prince of Belgium

“Don’t make this worse.”

“Define worse.”

The Headmaster’s smile never faltered, almost as though he had been preparing for exactly this type of thing to happen. He was just casually leaning against the backrest of his plump swivel chair, his head perched on top of one hand.

“Look, Headmaster,” André attempted to be more delicate this time. “If you’re waiting for an apology, you’d be waiting a long time. He,” He pointed at David who looked like a limp asparagus sitting in front of the Headmaster, “is an asshole. And I don’t apologize to assholes. That’d be similar to convincing a cat to get baptized.”

“How can I tell that he is if you don’t tell me what he did?” the Headmaster countered in an even more calm expression.

He looks like the kind of person that even when there’s an apocalypse happening right outside his door, he’d still be in his office sipping martinis and listening to Mozart.

The sight of his lapdog who looked like a limp asparagus curled up in front of him didn’t even faze him. That must’ve been the insult to David’s injury considering that the latter is the kind of person that can’t breathe without the Headmaster’s permission.

Noah sighed loudly, annoyed that he’d been called along with him and was now stuck in the office for nearly three hours. The exchange between André and the Headmaster was just going in circles, it didn’t help that the real reason they were there in the first place — also known as Zac — wasn’t there.

“Do you wanna say anything to help your friend, Mr. Hargreaves?”

“No. And he’s not my friend.”

“Oh, is that so?” the Headmaster asked, his tone somewhere between teasing and interrogating. “I heard you two were getting along just fine.”

Noah’s eyebrows immediately furrowed at the words.

Which part of him punching André during breakfast spells ‘fine’?

“Did someone ask for me?” Zac dramatically announced his arrival and pushed open the double doors that enclosed the almost circular office of the Headmaster. “Ooh,” He pretended to be shocked when he saw David. “Who blacked your eye, Fletcher? I wanna send them some flowers.”

He had a wide grin plastered on his face and he couldn’t be bothered to feel even just a tad worried about David who was still aching all over.

That must’ve been hell of a punch and kick because David was still limping when he got up to leave after the Headmaster’s order.

“Yes, I asked for you,” the Headmaster said, still smiling — which now closely resembled sarcasm — and pointed at the chair that David had just vacated. “Your friend, André, over here does not wish to tell me what has actually happened at the boys’ bathroom.”

Zac smiled, mirroring him, and held out his hand as though preparing to tell a long ass story. “Here’s what happened. Remember that dumbass, David?”

“Yes. I don’t have a short-term memory.”

“Yeah, well, that slimy git just called me a faggot.”

“A faggot?” the Headmaster repeated, appalled.

“Yes, a faggot,” Zac agreed, fairly sure that David’s gonna get it now.

“Go on.”

“So, yeah. André gave him a punch and that was it.” He started leaning back on his chair but straightened once he remembered something. “Oh, and he also called us mewling p*****s. I mean, if that’s how Student Council presidents should present themselves, then I personally think that Trump deserves another term. They are supposed to be our leaders, which basically means that they need to set an example.”

The Headmaster only nodded, urging him to go on as he focused his eyes on the pendulum that was still swinging on its stand, filling the room with its ticking noises along with Zac’s extremely enthusiastic yet annoying voice.

“He was also the one who started the fight at the cafeteria. He tripped Noah that’s why Noah punched André. I was only doing everyone a favor by giving David that punch.”

The Headmaster nodded again, almost looking like he’s already zoned out of the conversation. “But didn’t I give him detention for that already?”

It was Zac’s turn to nod. “But that doesn’t mean you should pin all of this on André.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

After they all got dismissed, Professor North finally agreed to let them go for the day even after finishing almost nothing and passed the work onto the school cleaners. He probably couldn’t bare another minute of Zac trying to win his decision by acting cute.

“You know, just because you can spell cute, doesn’t mean you are,” André said, his face still reflecting his disgust after what he had just witnessed at the corridors, and walked off towards the field.

“Hey, where are you going?” Zac called after him.

“Wherever you’re not.”

“I’m coming with you!”

André stopped midway and turned around, sighing as though he’s carrying with him the weight of the world. “You’re probably the most obnoxious person on the planet.”

“That’s just ridiculous. Have you met everyone on the planet?”

The night was cold. Lights flickered past the empty bottles of alcohol that littered the tables, the stereo blasting an EDM music that roughly sounded like The Crew’s Get Low.

In the past three hours that André and his friends were at the bar, there were already two fights and a drunken accident, but the party was still on the high. About a hundred people turned up and hours later, the air was thick with the smell of liquor and smoke.

André, his phone pressed tightly against his ear, was navigating himself around the crowd, scrambling to escape the bustle of drunk teenagers going in and out of the pub.

“Hello?” he said over the phone as soon as the door closed behind him, his jacket slung over one shoulder.

“Andy? Are you at a party?” The familiar voice of his brother came on and he cleared his throat, glancing around at the bar’s garden that was flanked with parking lots.

The grassy lawn was filled with discarded cups and beer cans, the deck chairs occupied by couples making out. Someone had also puked on the pool, and he wasn’t sure, but he thinks there was a sock floating around, too.

At least he hoped it was a sock.

“Yeah, Raze, ‘sup?” he answered, his voice sounding a little hoarse. “It’s Tyron’s birthday today. We’re just at a bar, nothing special. Thought I’d celebrate in with him.”

There was an audible scuffling noise from the other line, a hushed conversation, and a tearing of a paper before his brother answered.

“Well, it’s getting late. Tell Ino that you both need to get home before your dorm’s curfew.”

“Relax. You think we don’t have a plan? We’re just gonna go all the way through the back. There’s no one guarding the rusty gates there.”

Raze sighed on the other line and with the way he was silent, André could tell that he was massaging the bridge of his nose. “Your Headmaster called Axel earlier, and well … ” Another sigh, “he’s not pleased with the news.”

André sat on an empty bench just beside the glass wall on his left and nodded, although aware that Raze would probably be going into another rant about how he’s mostly getting all the attention from their older brothers after he had left home.

“I already warned you about this, As— I mean, Andy. You know that you shouldn’t be grabbing a lot of attention. And even if you’re completely unrecognizable, that doesn’t mean people won’t notice. They’d eventually see through you, Andy. And when that happens, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

André, despite knowing that what Raze just said was a big possibility, just laughed and shook his head. “I know, old man. Besides, I’m still enjoying this new identity you gave me. It kinda fits my style, you know?”

A well-hidden chuckle made its way to André from the other line, and he smiled.

“But seriously though, how are things going on with Axel and Yuri over there? How’s our … how’s our parents?”

There was an awkward silence immediately after the last question and an even bigger sigh came from the other end of the line.

“With Axel and Yuri, of course they miss you. Especially Axel … you know how that old coot gets. You’ll forever be his little girl. And about our parents,”] He paused, almost as if he was holding his breath, and sighed, [“they still haven’t given up. Of course, by now, they’re already suspecting us which is why I’m calling you on a burner phone way out of their turf.”

“Turf?”

“Mmm, yeah. That’s what you Americans call it.”

André laughed at this and shook his head, looking up at the sky that was barely visible with all the lights surrounding the garden. “Are they getting close? Do I have to move away again? Because if I do … I have a new plan to get myself expelled this time. And it includes my new roomie.”

“About that,” There was a pause on the other end and Raze seemed to be running. It was followed by the sound of what seems like a car door opening and then another scuffle of papers, “I know it may sound like it’s only a coincidence, but … do you think, perhaps, that new roommate is the prince of Belgium?”

“Prince of Belgium?” André repeated in a rather incredulous tone and laughed. “Bro, I’m pretty sure that dude’s name is Willy Wonka.”

“I’m serious, Andy. Yuri received a report that the prince had left the country. He said that he was going into some kind of boarding school there in the America. He also—”

“No, wait, wait, wait,” André cut him off and stood up, willing to take what his brother is saying seriously now. “First of all, Elton High isn’t a boarding school. It just has dorms, but other than that we’re basically free. And Nolan— Noam? You know, that guy. The one that I was talking to you about? If he’s a prince, I’d eat my hat and call myself the Queen of England.”

“But you have to be careful.”

“I always am.”

Walking back inside the hall packed with people laughing and yelling at each other over the loud noise, he decided to go and find Tyron to tell him he was leaving. When he arrived at the VIP lounge where most of the guys already had private escorts pinning them against the couch, André couldn’t even remember what he was there for in the first place when all the boys started talking.

“You know what? I think André is the only one in here who doesn’t take escorts. I mean, I’ve never seen you with one, bruh, and we’ve been friends for more than a year.”

The guys cheered at what Tyron said, chanting ‘Pick one’ over and over again.

“Everything’s on me, André. Just take your pick. We promise, no one will know. Right, boys?”

“YEAH!” And another chorus of ‘Pick one’ has ensued once more.

André only shook his head. “I’m not really in the mood today, bro.”

“Why?” Ino asked and dumped a shot glass filled with clear liquid in front of him. “Was that because of the call? Who was that anyway? Your ex?”

Wylan, who had just recently escaped from making out with two girls, chuckled at this. “Your ex is still hung up on you?”

“Which one?”

Everyone cheered again, laughing at how brazen André’s answer was. But it was true, he wasn’t exactly sure who they were talking about.

“You know, among all of us, I think André’s the most unlucky one,” Tyron announced as he stood up, swaying. “My ex is an angel, bro. You all know that.”

“Well, you’re lucky. Mine’s still alive.”

Another chorus of laughter and he was served another glass by Ino, this time bigger.

“Forget about all your problems for now. Let’s just have fun!”