Question: at this point, who do you ship with Cassie? (asking to satisfy personal curiosity)

***

A pit formed in my stomach and the table grew eerily quiet—Alex and Thomas shot Becca poignant looks.

"What are you talking about?" Luke asked Becca, his voice holding more edge than the usual teasing tone he maintained with her.

"Obviously I'm talking about Taylor Swift," Becca said with a laugh. I let out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, and I started to chuckle in efforts to shake off the unsettling feeling.

"Will you stop it with that!" Luke cried, his playful tone returning once more.

Thomas leaned forward and looked down the table at me. "Luke used to have a poster of Taylor Swift up in his room."

"I-I don't think Cassie needed to know that!" Luke stammered, his face turning pink.

Becca continued where Thomas left off. "Luke knows all of her songs by heart and can play them on the guitar, maybe even the piano as well."

"His biggest dream is to see Taylor Swift live at a concert," Alex told me.

"They're exaggerating," Luke told me.

"Last year on his birthday, Luke made us play '22' by Taylor Swift. Said he'd been waiting his whole life for that day," Thomas said.

"What are you going to do once you turn 23?" Becca asked Luke.

"Well I'll still listen to it like I always have, it just won't be quite as perfect," Luke snapped.

"When is your birthday, Luke?" I asked.

"November 19," he answered.

"That's next month!" I cried. "And it's around Thanksgiving time!"

"Thanks...giving?" Alex asked, looking confused.

"It's an American holiday," Luke told him.

"You guys don't have Thanksgiving?" I asked.

"Thanksgiving was created by American pilgrims, wasn't it?" Luke said. "They had a feast of thanks, if I remember correctly, and the holiday was founded."

"Oh, right." I smiled sheepishly.

"That's why Luke's the smart one," Becca sighed. "He knows random facts like that."

"I thought you said I was an idiot," Luke countered.

"Well you are, but you're also smart."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Becca. And anyways, I learned about Thanksgiving when I was living abroad, so I don't just study random facts for fun."

I was curious to learn more about his time in America. I knew he had gone to try his hand at becoming a successful musician, but that nothing came of it. But how long had he been there? What was the trip like? Why exactly did he move back? However, I didn't want to ask him about it in front of all his friends.

"I'm going to go find a bathroom," Becca announced. "Cassie, will you come with?"

"Uh, sure," I said, having just finished up the last of my kabob. Fortunately, there were public restrooms that were in an actual building instead of a series porta-potties. Becca and I were washing our hands when she started to talk.

"Has Luke told you about Marstella Allegro?" Becca's eyes were focused on the running water as it crashed over her hands.

I hadn't expected her to bring up Marstella.

"Yes," I answered as I reached for a paper towel.

"So you know that story? How she dated him and dumped him for the Prince?" Becca dried her hands on her jeans, still not looking at me.

"Yes, I do. She sounds like a real prick."

Becca scowled. "She better hope she doesn't run into me, or I'll sock her. Nobleman's daughter or no." She looked at me and sighed. "It smells in here. Let's talk outside."

So we're having a talk? I was curious to hear what Becca had to say, but also nervous. Maybe she saw something in me that she didn't like. After all, Chef Jonathan had told me that I reminded him of Marstella.

We walked out into the crisp October air and walked around the side of the bathroom building. Becca leaned back against the brick wall and fumbled in her pockets, pulling out a lighter and a cigarette pack.

"You want one?" she asked.

"No thanks," I said. "I don't smoke."

"Probably for the best," Becca shrugged as she pulled out a cigarette from the pack and lit the end of it. She placed the cigarette in her mouth, drew a deep breath, and let out a steam of smoke. "Don't tell Luke about this. He'd get mad if he knew I was smoking. Go on some tirade about how it's bad for my health or whatnot."

I said nothing, waiting for Becca to tell me whatever it was she wanted to say.

"After Marstella," she began. "Luke was a mess. She screwed him up real badly." She exhaled a cloud of smoke. "They dated for a fair bit, like four or five months. Never met her myself, I'd like to think I would have sniffed her out to be the rat she was. But, never met her so that's that. Despite that, I know Luke was real open with her, so she would have known what her hooking up with the Prince would have done to him." Becca's lip curled. "But she did it anyway." Inhale. Exhale.

"Luke didn't smile for a while after that. At first he cried, and then he became cold. Hard. He didn't try to make any friends at work, he didn't want to have any. People around him in the castle would all talk about what happened with Marstella. You work there, I'm sure you know word gets around fast. They tried not to let him hear their whispers, but he heard them all the same. A mix of pity and ridicule and their twisted sense of justice spawned from their jealousy. But, of course, I wasn't there to hear their gossip myself, Luke just told me about it a little bit.

"So the gossip wasn't as big of a deal to me." Becca's hand holding her cigarette began to tremble, and she began blinking more rapidly. "It was the state of his spirit that broke my heart. He was so broken." Her voice was unsteady, so she swallowed hard. "And I hate what she did to him. I'll always hate her for it." She drew the cigarette between her lips again and inhaled before exhaling once more.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked at the ground. I didn't know what to say.

"The whole mess went down about a year ago," she continued. "Slowly, bit by bit, he's been piecing himself back together. We—me, Alex, and Tommy—we've started to see more glimpses of his old happy self." Inhale. Exhale of smoke. Her eyes landed on me. "Then you came along."