Free Royally Jacked (Romantic Comedies, The) by Niki Burnham Page B

here.”
    I roll my eyes. Dad lectured me in the car the whole way to that picnic. I wasn’t to talk to the Carew twins—two megaspoiled freshmen who think they’re God’s gift—about anything personal. As if I would. Ican’t stand the Carews. Not because of politics, either. They’re just revolting as people.
    And Dad’s lecture didn’t matter anyway, because the Carews had no intention of talking to me. In fact, they made a point of ignoring me so I’d
know
I was being ignored. Jerks.
    “Dad”—I look him in the eye to make sure he knows he’s being ridiculous—“I’m not going to give Georg your credit card number or tell him you smoked pot in college or anything.”
    “Not only is that not funny, you know it’s not true.” He turns on the light, but since I’m totally awake now, I don’t argue this time. I yank my feet up closer to my body so he can sit on the edge of my bed. When he does, he grabs one of my feet through the covers and wiggles it around, just like he did when I was a kid and I told him there was a dragon in my bed and he had to catch it before it ate my foot.
    “Val, it’s not that I think you’re spilling your guts to a stranger. I know you’re good about keeping our family matters private, but I just thought I’d give you a word ofwarning. That’s all. We’re new here, and Georg’s father is my boss. So let’s keep our ears and eyes open and learn our way around, all right?”
    I nod. I’m a listen-first-speak-second kind of person, anyway.
    “Georg’s an okay guy though, isn’t he?” I ask a few minutes later, after Dad pesters me about whether I got any studying done. Maybe Dad knows something about Georg. He hears all the dish about politicians, celebrities, and their kids, and he usually even knows which rumors are true.
    “As far as I know, Prince Georg’s fine. He’s supposed to be quite intelligent, and he’s never gotten into any kind of trouble that would embarrass his family … like smoking cigarettes. Or pot.” He says this with a funny look that makes me wonder if he’s joking, or if he’s really thinking
I
might be taking the occasional drag at parties since I made the wisecrack about him doing it.
    “Well, that’s good,” I say, not willing to give an inch. I’ve
never
smoked that stuff and Dad should know it. My grades are too important to me. Besides, I got in enoughtrouble just getting caught with cigarettes last year. Getting busted with a joint would be something else entirely, especially if I got arrested. Thanks but no thanks.
    “I’ll leave you alone then,” he says, giving my foot one last squeeze before walking to the door. I burrow back under the covers, but just before he shuts off the light, he turns around. “Valerie?”
    “Yeah?”
    “You have a lot of talent. I wish you’d shown me your drawings yourself.”
    “They’re okay,” I say, but secretly I’m glad he likes them. Dad has taste, and he doesn’t give compliments easily.
    “Have you ever shown them to your mother?”
    “No.”
    “Oh.” He stares at the sketch of Georg, and I realize he thinks this is a real bonding moment. He knows something about me that Mom doesn’t.
    Then, of course, he ruins it by going and suggesting art lessons.
    “Dad—” I shoot him my best warning stare before he gets going about all theaccess I’ll have to great teachers here in Schwerinborg. He should remember that piano lessons killed any and all interest I had in the piano. There’s no way I’d do that to my sketches. Even if I never do end up making a career of it, what would I do to get through AP English every day?
    “Okay. Just a suggestion.” Then his eyes get a mischievous look. “But I bet Georg would be really impressed if you got his chin just right. Art lessons would help.”
    He walks off before I can hit him in the head with the nearest baseball-sized object, which happens to be my alarm clock. Lucky for him.
    He is so not funny.
    I’m in the middle of