Me and the Teenage Prince Egoist (Currently ON HOLD)

Me and the Teenage Prince Egoist: Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight:

    ‘So, tell me about yourselves,” I said thoughtfully, pushing my lunch tray away.

Angel and Clemmie looked up from their food, looking positively curious. “I mean,” I revised quickly; “You know I’m the bloody Earl’s daughter and all that but I don’t know a thing about you at all.”

Angel put his chin on his fist thoughtfully. “Well, I’m her cousin, for one.”

“You’re related?”

Clemmie laughed. “Yep.”

“King Alfred’s brother is my father,” said Angel pensively as he bit in a large piece of corn.

“Wait, wait, wait, rewind!” I hissed, holding up my hands, “What do you mean ‘King Alfred’s brother is my father’?”

Clemmie looked surprised, ‘Don’t you know? My dad and mum are currently the ruling monarchs of Britain.”

“You say that like ‘I had kippers for breakfast’!” I said in disbelief. Seriously, they never mentioned things that important to me? Geez.

Clemmie laughed. “Sorry! I just thought you already know!”

“If your parents are the King and Queen…”I trailed off, my eyes widening.

Angel chuckled. “Yep. Clemmie’s the Crowned Princess herself.”

“C-Crowned Princess?” I repeated weakly.

Clemmie rolled her eyes. “It’s no big deal. This is St. Matthew’s after all. We have all kinds here. There are child prodigies, the children of celebrities…no, not Hugh Grant’s if that’s what you’re thinking,” she added to my moony-eyed look, “There’s also Countesses like you, and Earls like Angel here—”

“You’re an Earl?” I giggled despite myself. It makes him sound less attractive all of the sudden.

Angel flushed. “So what? Like Clems said, it’s not big deal.”

“And anyway,” Clemmie interrupted, “It’s not like I’m the heir.”

“Eh? But you’re the King’s daughter!”

“I am but the eldest son gets the throne, remember? And besides,” she paused and downed her soda in one gulp, “I don’t want to be Queen. And my brother’s psyched about being King so I left the job to him.”

“How many siblings do you have?” I asked curiously, slightly out of the topic.

“There’s just me and stupid Cedric over there.” She jerked a thumb behind her.

“Ced—”

I stopped dead as I saw Courtney standing on the table behind us, her eyes glinting malevolently in my direction. There were a bunch of good-looking kids sitting around the table she’s standing in, all of them glaring at our group. I nudged Clemmie in the back and pointed at Courtney. The whole cafeteria fell silent and stared at Courtney’s impressive form upon the table, looking like the goddess of whores.

“Everyone,” she announced, “As you all know, my darling sister, Stefani arrived in our school today.”

Stupid, stupid bitch. I tried not to flinch as about gazillions of eyeballs turned to look at me. Clemmie was scowling and cracking her knuckles as she stared at Courtney. Angel, meanwhile, was looking at Courtney with utmost revulsion that I never even imagined he could look like that.

“What about it, Sutcliffe?” demanded Angel loudly.

Courtney laughed lightly and turned to us with mocking eyes. “What about it? Angel my dear, if you’re that stupid I suggest you go, and jump in the Thames.” She turned to the silent crowd with an irritatingly arrogant face, “St. Matthew’s is a place for the noble and the famous so even scum like Fraser-Marks there fit in. But it is certainly no place for vagrants right?”