Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“So, what?”
“Sad,” he replied, his voice fading. “Never listened to it before. I had heard it in passing by my sister, but as I said before, I always called it depressed-siren music.”
“Can I smack you?” I asked seriously. “Because you are definitely going about this flirting thing in the wrong way.”
“Oh, so will you tell me the right way to flirt with you?” His eyebrow rose.
“What I mean is—”
“How dare I insult your music like that?” he asked. “That is what it sounded like, that is what it still sounds like, and I did not realize how stunning it was until now. You are a storyteller with songs. You pulled everyone into your pain and gave them hope at the end. I see why my sister and Wolfgang are part of the Wyntor Nation.”
“Oh, my God, don’t say that! I did not choose the names.”
“I want to know everything about your music. Why you chose those titles, the stories you had for them, why you sing the way you do—everything.” The way his voice had softened and the sincerity on his face made it harder for me to play off his question.
“Why are we always talking about me when we meet?”
“Because every time we talk about me, you start to like me.” And just like that, his ego came back full force.
“Your parents should have named you Kanye with the level of your ego.”
He laughed. “That is not very conventional.”
“And Galahad is a conventional name? What does that mean, anyway?”
“Have you not read Le Morte d’Arthur?” He eyed me as if I was some strange creature.
“As in King Arthur? Of Camelot?”
He nodded. “Galahad was Arthur’s most honorable knight. He was the knight who found the holy grail and ascended into heaven.”
Oh. “King Arthur would be your brother. And you are his most noble knight.”
“And you are the holy grail.” He leered, coming closer to my face. “Can I come to heaven now?”
I couldn’t help it. I broke out into laughter. “I think you are getting less romantic now.”
“Forget the romance. I’m just trying to get you to laugh. I enjoy it when you do.”
He was so blatant. It was hard to ignore him or push him away. I found myself talking and laughing more than I assumed I would, even after our food came. He sat with me and listened to everything I said as if it were the gospel.
It was nice.
Chapter 17
Almost a week had gone by since that show, and we were now friends. Because of my schedule, I had to fly up and down during the week for shows, and each time, I just imagined him in the front row, calling out to me, and I was able to get through it. We spent most of our time talking on the phone and having dinner. There were no more flowers or letters, and it bothered me how I clearly noticed and kind of wished they hadn’t stopped, even though I was the one who had told him not to continue. Why couldn’t I be like normal girls? Why did I overthink everything? This was one of the reasons why I didn’t bother or even want to get married. How could anybody put up with me and my confused self for a lifetime? It was better just to be alone.
Shifting my bag and laptop onto my other arm, I put the key into the lock and opened the door.
“Mom, I’m back!” I called out, dropping my things by the stairs and taking off my coat. I missed my apartment, but since Gale was there, I figured I would just stay at her townhouse for now.
“Welcome back, sweetheart. How was it?”
“Good, actually. The guys were all cheering afterward, and I even went on to do an encore in San Francisco,” I replied, checking through the mail she had allowed to stack up so much they were almost falling over themselves. Lifting it, I saw why. They were all bills. Most were for her, but some were for me, too.
“You’re over your stage fright?”
“Not sure if I’m over it, but thinking of a princess throwing a tantrum really works,” I replied, picking up the invite from the company that was buried in the stack before walking toward the living room.
“A princess having a tantrum?”
“Yeah, something Gale said. Did you see this—” I stopped midsentence at the sight in front of me.
There, sitting on one of the kitchen stools, was the prince himself. However, it wasn’t just the fact that he was there. It was the fact that he was sitting as my mother adjusted a wig on his head. He glanced up at me and nodded.
“Welcome back. I’m glad the advice helped,” Gale said as if he weren’t wearing a wavy, brown, lace-front wig.
My mother, who still had scissors in her hand, clipping away and cutting layers into it, said, “Did I see what, honey?”