Red, White & Royal Blue(9)

“So … you don’t like it, then.”

June sighs. She finds the record she’s looking for, slides it out of the sleeve. “I don’t know what else to do, is the thing.”

“They wouldn’t put you on a beat?” Nora asks her.

“You kidding? They wouldn’t even let me in the building,” June says. She puts the record on and sets the needle. “What would Reilly and Rebecca say?”

Nora tips her head and laughs. “My parents would say to do what they did: ditch journalism, get really into essential oils, buy a cabin in the Vermont wilderness, and own six hundred LL Bean vests that all smell like patchouli.”

“You left out the investing in Apple in the nineties and getting stupid-rich part,” June reminds her.

“Details.”

June walks over and places her palm on the top of Nora’s head, deep in her nest of curls, and leans down to kiss the back of her own fingers. “I’ll figure something out.”

Nora hands over the bottle, and June takes a pull. Alex heaves a dramatic sigh.

“I can’t believe I have to learn this garbage,” Alex says. “I just finished midterms.”

“Look, you’re the one who has to fight everything that moves,” June says, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, a move she’d only do in front of the two of them. “Including the British monarchy. So, I don’t really feel bad for you. Anyway, he was totally fine when I danced with him. I don’t get why you hate him so much.”

“I think it’s amazing,” Nora says. “Sworn enemies forced to make peace to settle tensions between their countries? There’s something totally Shakespearean about it.”

“Shakespearean in that hopefully I’ll get stabbed to death,” Alex says. “This sheet says his favorite food is mutton pie. I literally cannot think of a more boring food. He’s like a cardboard cutout of a person.”

The sheet is filled with things Alex already knew, either from the royal siblings dominating the news cycle or hate-reading Henry’s Wikipedia page. He knows about Henry’s parentage, about his older siblings Philip and Beatrice, that he studied English literature at Oxford and plays classical piano. The rest is so trivial he can’t imagine it’ll come up in an interview, but there’s no way he’ll risk Henry being more prepared.

“Idea,” Nora says. “Let’s make it a drinking game.”

“Ooh, yes,” June agrees. “Drink every time Alex gets one right?”

“Drink every time the answer makes you want to puke?” Alex suggests.

“One drink for a correct answer, two drinks for a Prince Henry fact that is legitimately, objectively awful,” Nora says. June has already dug two glasses out of the cabinet, and she hands them to Nora, who fills both and keeps the bottle for herself. Alex slides down from the couch to sit on the floor with her.

“Okay,” she goes on, taking the sheet out of Alex’s hands. “Let’s start easy. Parents. Go.”

Alex picks up his own glass, already pulling up a mental image of Henry’s parents, Catherine’s shrewd blue eyes and Arthur’s movie-star jaw.

“Mother: Princess Catherine, oldest daughter of Queen Mary, first princess to obtain a doctorate—English literature,” he rattles off. “Father: Arthur Fox, beloved English film and stage actor best known for his turn as James Bond in the eighties, deceased 2015. Y’all drink.”

They do, and Nora passes the list to June.

“Okay,” June says, scanning the list, apparently looking for something more challenging. “Let’s see. Dog’s name?”

“David,” Alex says. “He’s a beagle. I remember because, like, who does that? Who names a dog David? He sounds like a tax attorney. Like a dog tax attorney. Drink.”

“Best friend’s name, age, and occupation?” Nora asks. “Best friend other than you, of course.”

Alex casually gives her the finger. “Percy Okonjo. Goes by Pez or Pezza. Heir to Okonjo Industries, Nigerian company leading Africa in biomedical advancements. Twenty-two, lives in London, met Henry at Eton. Manages the Okonjo Foundation, a humanitarian nonprofit. Drink.”

“Favorite book?”

“Uh,” Alex says. “Um. Fuck. Uh. What’s the one—”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Claremont-Diaz, that is incorrect,” June says. “Thank you for playing, but you lose.”

“Come on, what’s the answer?”

June peers down at the list. “This says … Great Expectations?”

Both Nora and Alex groan.

“Do you see what I mean now?” Alex says. “This dude is reading Charles Dickens … for pleasure.”

“I’ll give you this one,” Nora says. “Two drinks!”

“Well, I think—” June says as Nora glugs away. “Guys, it’s kinda nice! I mean, it’s pretentious, but the themes of Great Expectations are all like, love is more important than status, and doing what’s right beats money and power. Maybe he relates—” Alex makes a long, loud fart noise. “Y’all are such assholes! He seems really nice!”

“That’s because you are a nerd,” Alex says. “You want to protect those of your own species. It’s a natural instinct.”