Just Pretending Read online

  I storm down the sidewalk and feel a dark desire growing inside me. I would give anything to be someone else, anyone except Tyler Evans.

  I pick up the pace as I approach Millie’s elementary school, skidding past hordes of screaming kids and dodging grouchy parents as if they were opposing defensemen. I spot Mils leaning against the chain link fence, her face completely obscured by a book. Jeez, for a fourth-grader, she’s certainly got the posture of a teenager.

  “Whatcha reading?” I say, plucking the book from her hands.

  “Hey!” she squawks. Her little nose scrunches up. “I was just getting to the good part!”

  “Yeah, is Bloom Blossom going to take down the Goblin King with her magic flower wand?” I look at the cover and see there’s a new princess on the front—one with blue-hair and a dress made of bubbles.

  “No, I finished that one yesterday,” she says, and snatches the book back. “This is Marina, Princess of Mermaidia. And she’s even cooler than Bloom Blossom.”

  “Sooo, you wouldn’t want this?” I grab my drawing out of my back pocket.

  Millie’s face lights up. She snatches it out of my hands. “WOW! You drew her in her adventure outfit!”

  “Your favorite,” I say. “Now, come on. Dad’s going to be home any minute, so I gotta drop you off and bolt to practice.”

  “What’s this?” Millie says as she turns my sketch over. My chest tightens as if I’ve sucked in too much air. The pamphlet of Prague is stuck to the back.

  “Nothing.” I grab for it, but Millie twirls around, dodging my grip. Jeez, if she ever put down a book long enough, she’d make a great forward.

  “Wow, it’s so pretty,” she says, staring at the pictures. “It looks like the fairyland you visited in the summer.”

  “That wasn’t a fairyland,” I say, successfully snatching the pamphlet back. “That was a crazy place. Spaghetti everywhere!”

  She laughs, as if I’ve just said the most hilarious thing in the world. At least, I have my little sister. When the rest of the world reminds me of everything I can’t do, there’s Millie to marvel over my little sketches and laugh at my dumb jokes.

  I start walking, setting a quick pace. Millie falls into stride easily, asking, “Is Prince Daniel going to be at practice tonight?”

  “Do you have to say his name like that?” I groan. “Prince Daniel? It wasn’t more than six months ago, you were tackling him every time he came over.”

  “It’s like out of a storybook,” she says, eyes cast upward. “I want to meet a prince and live in a castle.”

  “Yeah, well apparently, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” Who knew my best friend, resident bad boy Daniel Sacachelli, would end up being the crown prince of a small European country? He’s still living here in Chicago, but things are definitely different.

  In fact, for the last few days, he’s been busy entertaining a queen.

  My heart feels too heavy for my chest. I only met her once—the Queen of Eldonia—but somehow, she creeps into my thoughts every day. Her rich mahogany hair, the curve of her lush smile, the sway of her hips. She looked like a model for a Greek sculptor, a modern-day Aphrodite.

  “Ty?” Millie tugs on my shirt.

  I shake my head and come back to reality. Sure, she’s beautiful, and yeah, she’s in Chicago right now. But I can’t ask to see her. And not just because she’s a queen.

  She’s also Daniel’s little sister.

  The thought of batting eyes at Evangeline is enough to make my knees shake. Daniel isn’t exactly what you would call a go-with-the-flow kind of guy.

  “I dunno,” Millie says dreamily. “I just think it would be nice.”

  “What would be?”

  She sighs. “To be a princess. To marry a prince.”

  I give a sad laugh. “Well, keep dreaming, little one. And hurry up. We peasants don’t have gilded carriages.” I pick up my pace and heave my backpack higher up on my shoulders. It’s filled with textbooks—not that I ever open them, but they allow me to keep up appearances at school.

  I’ve become an expert at lying. Recording lectures, using diction apps to transcribe my voice for written assignments, or bribing Millie into reading the homework out loud for me. Sometimes, I even forget I can’t read. When I stare and struggle long enough, I can force the jumbled lines into words. But I can only make sense of the words when I’m really concentrating. And if I’m under any sort of pressure—like a test—I can forget about even that. Thank goodness for multiple choice.

  Luckily, there’s only one person who knows.

  I look down. We must be the only siblings on earth whose little sister reads to her big brother before bed.

  We turn the corner onto our street. It’s pretty empty for late afternoon, but this area of town doesn’t really come alive until after nightfall. Millie knows the rules. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t talk to anyone. If someone comes too close, run.

  We climb the stone steps up to our door. The panels on our house are cracked and faded, and the chain link fence looks like it could fall over at any minute. In fourth grade, I remember being invited to a friend’s house. He had a green lawn and a big TV and a couch that was as firm as concrete. And when he asked if he could come to my place, I told the first of what would become many lies. I don’t want anyone to ever see where I live. I just know if they saw this, they’d think less of me than they already do. I haven’t even let Hayden or Daniel come in, and they’re my best friends.

  Quickly, I rush to my room, where all my gear is piled in a towering mountain. Between my bed and my gear, there’s no real space. I’m the only kid on the Falcons who doesn’t have formal training or who didn’t play in an expensive league beforehand. We could never have afforded that. But Coach said my grit and determination won him over. I guess spending my childhood at the community ice rink paid off.

  But since I didn’t grow up in the fancy hockey leagues my teammates did, I know there’s no chance I’ll get drafted to the NHL. Playing for the Falcons is as far as I’ll go. And it’s good for me. Sure, the little stipend we get is nice, but it’s more than that.

  On the ice, I’m not alone. I’m part of a team. I’m not Tyler Evans—I’m #13, just a piece of something so much bigger. So, it doesn’t matter that my gear is either second-hand or a return from Dad’s sports store. All that matters are my blades, my stick, and the puck.

  I drop my heavy backpack to the floor and empty my pockets. The piles of papers Mrs. Perry gave me are still in a crumpled ball. I drop it on the nightstand. It thuds there, like a weight.

  I gather all my gear, energy brimming under my skin. I check my watch then check the wall clock. Dad should be home any minute. My whole body is itching to get on the ice. I need to burn off some of this energy.

  I pace the hallway, then the kitchen, then finally walk into Millie’s room. She’s lying on her bed, her nose buried in her book again.

  “Dad’s late,” I say.

  She shrugs but doesn’t look at me.

  The phone rings, shrill and angry. I walk to the kitchen to grab it. “Hello?”

  “Oh, hey Ty, how’s it going?”

  “Hey, Dad. What’s up?” I check the clock again. Damn, if he’s calling from work, he won’t be home for another fifteen at the earliest. I look over at Millie in her bed. I’m sure she’d be fine alone for fifteen minutes…

  The wail of a siren screeches by, and the thought drops like a popped balloon. Coach can deal with me being a little late.

  “My closer called to say he’s having car problems and won’t be in for another hour.” I hear the hesitation in Dad’s voice. “I just can’t remember if your hockey practice is tonight or tomorrow. I can close the store for an hour if it’s today…I just don’t have anyone else to cover.”

  I stare at the doorway, at my pile of gear ready to go. Then I look back at Millie, lying on her small bed, lost in her fairy-tale world. If she’d been born into another story, her room would be bright pink with spar
kly decals pinned everywhere, the floor covered with dolls. Instead, she’s got a stained library book and some bad sketches pinned to the walls.

  It’s an easy decision to make because there’s really no choice. Not for a family like ours. “Oh, yeah, no practice tonight. It’s tomorrow. I was just going to be hanging out here anyway.”

  “Great!” Dad says. “See you in an hour.”

  I hang up the phone and rest my head against the wall.

  How could I even dream about going to Prague? I can’t even go to hockey practice.

  …

  Eva

  “So, the entrance to the rink is just through that door,” Daniel says, adjusting his hockey bag over his shoulder. “You can watch the practice from the stands.”

  We’re in the big lobby of the arena. A cold blast of air washes over me as someone opens the double doors leading to the rink. “Yes, yes, I understand,” I say, pushing on his chest. “You better get ready, assistant captain.”

  “Alternate captain,” he mutters, then gives me a quick hug before disappearing down a long hallway toward the changeroom. He looks back. “I’ll meet you in the stands after.”

  I let out a long sigh and turn to Dwayne. “Better watch out. I think he’s gunning for your job.”

  Dwayne, my bodyguard, adjusts his sunglasses but doesn’t respond. For a moment, I’m reminded of being home in Eldonia, of being the only person in the castle under the age of fifty. A small part of me already misses my brother. He might be overbearing, but at least he laughs at my jokes.

  “EVA!” A high-pitched squeal rings through the lobby. I turn to see Madison running toward me.

  “Madison!” I open my arms, and she gives me a giant hug. I met Madison last summer when she came to Eldonia with Daniel. She took it upon herself to prepare him to take the throne…all while pretending to be his girlfriend. She really did help my brother sort out some of his troubled ways, and I owe her so much. Madison was the one who discovered the loophole in my small country’s archaic law that wouldn’t allow a female heir to take the throne. Thanks to her, Daniel didn’t have to become King, and I was free to take my place as the Queen of Eldonia. And all my dreams came true.

  At least, I’d thought they had.

  “Wow.” I look her up and down. “You look very official.”

  Madison runs a hand through her long dark hair. She wears a blue jacket with the Chicago Falcons logo on one side and her name embroidered on the other. “It’s my new trainer’s uniform!”

  A strange desire rushes through me. I want a jacket like that. Not because the fabric’s nice or it’s overly flattering or anything like that, but because of what it means.

  It means that Madison belongs here. And I know from spending time with Daniel that being part of the Falcons doesn’t mean you’re just on a hockey team—it means you’re part of a family. Looking at Madison, I know exactly what the jacket means. It wasn’t just given to her—she earned it.

  Madison shifts from foot to foot. “So, it looks like you’ve escaped Daniel’s whirlwind of fun for a moment?”

  “He really wants me to see everything.”

  “Or not see something,” Madison mutters, then smiles. “I swear, I thought he was going to give himself an ulcer trying to plan out your whole visit. The only other things I’ve seen him that passionate about are hockey and spaghetti.”

  “Hmmm,” I say, “and what about his girlfriend?”

  Pink colors Madison’s cheeks, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ears. “Okay, maybe me too.”

  To no one’s surprise (except their own), Daniel and Madison started dating for real. I was glad. I really liked her. I’m not exactly familiar with having friends, besides my bodyguard and my butler, but I’d like to start. I know one thing—I’m happy to see her.

  “I appreciate his passion,” I say, because it’s the truth. “But he’s got our schedule so jam-packed, I feel like I’m in Eldonia. Seeing the whole city twice isn’t exactly the type of fun I had in mind.”

  Madison bites her lip. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I’ve been so busy getting my application to Julliard ready.”

  I smile. “I just know you’ll get in. Your part on 100 Years Fallen was amazing!”

  “Yeah, I have to admit, I killed that death scene.” Madison winks then uses her pen to imitate being stabbed in the stomach before falling to the ground with an agonized expression on her face.

  “Yeah, yeah, Madison,” a voice says from the hallway leading to the changerooms. “We all saw you get stabbed by Leo Monty. You only made the whole team watch that episode a hundred times.”

  I turn and see one of Daniel’s teammates sauntering toward us. Madison picks herself up off the ground and crosses her arms. “Like you have anything better to do, Gervase.”

  I stare at the boy walking toward us. He’s vaguely familiar, perhaps one of the Falcons who visited Daniel in Eldonia. As he approaches, I can tell he’s tall—even taller than Dwayne. He throws back the hood of his sweatshirt, and I get a good look at his cropped hair and deep brown eyes. He’s looking right at me.

  Madison taps her shoe and levels him with a stare. “Gervs, this is Daniel’s little sister.”

  But Gervase doesn’t look at her—he’s still looking at me. He takes one distinctive step toward me and says, “I know.”

  That deep voice, his American accent, the confident grin… I feel my face flush and look down at my heels. Bloody hell.

  “How are you enjoying your time in Chicago?” Gervase asks.

  “It’s quite lovely. Daniel’s been showing me all the sights.”

  Gervase gives me a crooked grin. “Sacs has been holding out on us.” I open my mouth to reply, but he cuts me off. “If you’re ever bored of the touristy shit, I could show you some local places. What’s your favorite food?”

  My favorite food? I could tell him Eldonia’s top exports, or the highest-quality vegetables and fruits we harvested last quarter. But my personal favorite? It’s been so long since anyone’s asked me that…

  “Doesn’t matter,” he says. “There’s this local diner, right by my house. I’m usually pretty hungry after practice.”

  I’m not sure what to say. Is he asking me out? Do I want to go out with him? What’s an American date all about? Gervase walks past me, drops a hand on my shoulder, and lowers his head to my ear. “Hope to see you after, Evangeline.”

  Once he’s gone, I turn to Madison, who’s got a sly smile on her face. “Is that the kind of fun you’re looking for?” she asks.

  “I don’t know,” I say. My legs feel wobbly. “Maybe?”

  Being the Princess—and now Queen—of Eldonia, I’ve had no shortage of admirers. But I know it’s all for show—people talk to me for political gain, not because they’re actually interested. But if that hockey player really liked me… A flash of hope sparks within me. Maybe I could find a place to belong within the Falcons, too.

  Madison crosses her arms and sighs. “Hey, I’m not judging. God knows, I’ve got experience with bad-boy hockey players.”

  “If you’re talking about my brother, Myong, he’s a perfect angel, and no one will convince me otherwise.” We look at each other for a moment before we both burst out laughing.

  “But seriously,” Madison continues, “Gervase doesn’t have the best reputation. What about hanging out with one of our other friends, like Tyler? He’s the sweetest, and his big baby-blue eyes are killer. He’s one of the good ones.”

  “I want to go out with a hockey player, not a puppy.” My eyes are trained on the door to the locker room. “I dunno. I think he might be one of the good ones.”

  “I’m keeping my eye on you, Your Royal Highness. But for now, I’ve got to go babysit these ruffians.” Madison gives me another tight squeeze before disappearing down the hallway.

  Dwayne and I head up into the stands. Some of the players are lounging on the benches. My brother is on the ice with Hayden and Alice. The team is all dressed in
their white practice jerseys.

  Every time I watch my brother play, it’s like I can feel the electricity crackling in the air, the happiness that radiates off him when he’s just where he needs to be. Daniel may be a prince, but he’s also a hockey player, a juxtaposition that creates the beautiful mosaic that is my brother.

  I pull out my sketchbook and pencil from my bag. I don’t get a lot of free time in Eldonia, but when I do, I like to spend it drawing and painting. It’s one of the few things that Mother approves of…although, she has always preferred my watercolor landscapes to my sketches of pirates and mermaids.

  The graphite moves easily across the page as I try and capture the flurry of movement created by the players on the ice. A sly smile crosses my face as I watch Alice. She’s the perfect mix of grace and force. Not one of the boys can catch her once she gets the puck, even the captain—her boyfriend—Hayden Tremblay.

  I finish my picture and look down at it. Daniel is in the middle, his stick in his hand. He’s doing something he loves, surrounded by his friends. Together, they create something beautiful. A strange ripple of sadness courses through me. I shove my sketchbook back in my bag. I have everything I want, too. There’s no reason to be jealous of him.

  I’m not jealous, really.

  I stand, hiking my bag up over my shoulder. I don’t want to feel this way. “I’m going to stretch my legs,” I say to Dwayne. He stands up to follow me, but I wave him down. Ever since Daniel visited last summer and introduced him to hockey, he’s really gotten into it.

  “Sit down,” I urge. “I’m just going to the lobby.”

  His face tenses for a moment, then one of the players slams another to the ice, and Dwayne’s sucked back into the action.

  I head down the steps toward the lobby, which takes me past the bench where some of the players are sitting.

  “Yeah, I think I made a pretty good impression.”

  It was the same player I’d met before the practice. I look through the plexiglass and see Gervase talking to one of his teammates. The real American hockey player. He looks so handsome sitting there, an easy smile on his face. I take a few steps back so I’m behind the concrete wall but can still hear them. I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I’m pretty sure they’re talking about me, and I’m more than a little curious.