"Hook me up with one of your friends," I smiled at him. Theyre cute."
"Take Wills!"
Did I hear the name, right? Not Trefor? Not Andrew? But-- "A-Are you serious?"
"Take him far far away from me." he begged, making shoo-ing gestures.
Uh, I know some English ladies who would object to that. His grandmother for one. I looked at the picture again. "You guys look so hot." I watched him. "Do I embarrass you when I gush about your friends?"
"Kinda," he admitted.
I put my chin in my hands and gazed at him intently and teased, "Okay, I'll just gush about your kissable lips instead."
I have no idea where this came from...he exploded! "Why does there have to be any gushing at all?" The British accent in his voice became stronger and it scared me. "Why can't I have normal friends? Friends with normal lives!"
You can't have normal friends because you go to school with strange strange people? Should I have said that? Fine. Youre ugly. I dont know what possessed me to think that your lips are kissable. They looked like someone boxed them and the swelling will never go down! Should I have said that?
"Why can't everyone just treat me normally!"
I felt a shock of deja vu. Did he have any idea how many times the phrase had echoed in my mind? Except it would be William saying it. It might as well have been William saying it. I didn't know what to say. Much more what to do. In the back of my mind a voice screamed out: Julia! HAAAAALP! I turned his attention to the next picture. "Who's the guy here?"

"Nick," He answered. His focus turned to the girl. "You can see the claddagh ring I gave her in that pic."
"A what?" I squinted. I squinted. Yeah, there was a silver dot on her finger.
"A claddagh ring." he explained. "It's an Irish wedding band."
Take note: a wedding band. Oh my! Did Hunter propose? "Is it two hands holding a heart? With a crown above it?" I guessed.
"Yes."
"I read the description somewhere," I had a tiny smile, glad my guess was correct.
"I knew that crown wasn't a good sign," he muttered.
Um, what can I say at this point?
"Back to the story!" he said suddenly.
Oh, rats! he remembered. "Don't." I pleaded.
"Don't what?" he asked.
"Don't make me--" I got ready to leave in my haste knocking over the shake. The chocolate pool spread and I clumsily mopped it up with paper napkins. "It's just--" Writing about Hunter's love life was one thing. I did have his permission. But now that William was involved...It changes things. William changes things. For me at least. "Don't bring me into this."
"You're in it already, aren't you?" he reasoned. "You already know."
If he had said "okay" then I knew it would've been fine to let the subject drop. But he didn't. I stood for a moment in indecision. Yes, I knew the basics of the situation but I was still safe. I didn't know the details. Something in me said. "Run, Starrside. Run. Run. Run, before it's too late. You still can. If you stay there's no turning back." And I think...if his eyes were any other color than blue, I would've turned to leave. But the way he looked at me...I sat back down. I placed in a new tape.
He smiled as though in approval. "Where did I leave off? William wanted me to get back with Julia."
"I want you to get back together too," I told him.
"We can't," he shook his head.
"Rift's too big?" I asked, trying to understand.
"Yeah," he said quietly.
"We got into a fight. William and I."
Wrote that down.
"I think what made me mad is, he said if I wasn't going to do anything; he'd make his move."
Well, I saw William's point of view. I mean friends and family can get in the way of love. Anything other than those two are just trivial. Hunter was his only obstacle. If friend was out of the way then why shouldn't he go for the girl? Julia was perfectly free to say no. He should at least try, right?
"I told him, I didn't want that. He said I was in no position to say that."
Well, if you're no longer the BF then...yeah, you really don't have a say so. I believe....
"And then..."
Man, didnt THAT sound ominous.
"And then--"
My entire attention was on him.
"I said the worst possible thing," he looked at me. Was he seeking permission?
The worst possible thing? No! Not about his mom dying! I thought. It was the worse thing I could think of. Not that! Anything but that! I was silent. Waited for a long pause to pass.
He watched me carefully. "Do you want to know what I said?"
Did I want to? "If you want me to tell me...go ahead."
He looked away as if he changed his mind. "You're going to think I'm a asshole," he said quietly.
He must be beating himself up bad inside since he decided to use a curse word. Hey, is he allowed to do that? I made a mental note to check the Eton rulebook. "I won't think you're an asshole," I promised him. I don't like profanity. But it was his choice of words not mine.
"You will," he insisted.
"I won't." Since I didn't want him to think I was saying it just for the sake of saying it I added, "If you know you shouldn't have said it, and you're remorseful for it then...it can't be that bad."
"It is."
I was silent. If I kept saying "no" he would keep saying "yes" and we'd be there all day. He'd tell me when he wanted to, I figured. And he wanted to. Otherwise he wouldn't have brought it up, right?
He sighed.
I waited.
He prepared to speak. "I told William--"
I leaned forward. Not about his mom dying...Not about his mom dying...the thought repeated itself over and over again in my head. But I already knew. His eyes told me.
"I said, 'You're going to get her killed just like you did your mom.'"
Short pause. "Oh." The word sounded calm enough to me. I couldn't see my face. Didn't know the expression I was showing. Did he know that it was my right as a Prince William obssessor to gauge his eyes out? I took a deep breath. "Can I turn my head to the side and just embrace shock for a moment?"
He allowed me that.
Tunned head to side. Embraced shock. How could he? He knew how to hurt his friend, and he took aim, and he fired. Friends just don't do stuff like that. In argument, friends just don't go around kissing their friend's girlfriend either. Well, they do in storybooks, Lancelot, Guinevere and King Arthur as an example. But this wasn't a story! I looked at the papers in my hand. It's going to be...I felt a headache coming on.
"Now you hate me," he said quietly.
"I don't hate you," I said slowly, thinking about it. No, I didn't hate him. "I don't like what you did. But I don't hate you."
He nodded, as if it were a comfort.
"You said it at the height of anger. And we say a lot of stupid stuff when we're angry."
Pause.
Great wording, Starrside. Stupid stuff...you must be making him feel fantastic!
Longer pause.
He whispered. "Wish Julia would see it that way."
Uh-oh. Didn't like the depressed note in his voice. "What about Andrew and Trefor?" I asked, trying to get his attention away from Julia. "What do they have to say about all this?"
"Andrew's like you--" he said.
Andrew's like me?
"--it was said in the height of anger and everything. Trefor lost a brother in a car crash so he's weird on the whole subject."
I thought of Andrew's strong fit body.
Trefor's kind brown eyes.
The Greek god...
That smile always threatening to escape...
I took a deep breath. "And how did Wills react when you told him...that sentence." As much as possible I wasn't going to say the line. I didn't want to repeat it.
"At first, shock that I said it. Then he moved to punch me."
Go William! I cheered silently, feeling partly disloyal. "And then what happened?"
"We were about to a fight. Then Andrew moved in, saying that if we did the press would have a field day."
Good Andrew. Wise person. I asked, "Are you and William still speaking to each other?"
"Yeah," he gave me the tiniest of smiles. "We have to."
I smiled back. "Good."
The smile grew. "We're not into cold shoulders. Guys don't do that. We just--"
"Give each other black eyes," we said in unison.
We laughed.
Laughter lapsed back into silence.
And you still didn't have that luxury, I thought feeling sad for him.
"The thing is--I sort of meant what I said." He paused. "It's just that I've seen the guy live his life under a microscope and I just don't want anyone else to go through it."
I doubted William wanted that too. But aren't you under that microscope too, Hunter? You might not be the center of concentration but aren't you under that microscope with him? Feeling the weight of people's stares? Maybe making it less strenuous on William with your companionship? You seem to be holding up all right. Can't you give the girl the benefit of the doubt? Isn't it her choice to decide what to suffer and what not to suffer? And who was worth suffering for? If William can find a girl who was willing to put up with all the inconvenience of his lifestyle--and there are a lot of 'em--for him, then I say congratulations because that girl would be nothing less than amazing and that has got to be true love. The words that came out were, "You can't--you can't expect the guy to be lonely for the rest of his life. Not getting too close to people. Afraid that he's going to hurt them if he does." If he did that he wouldn't have you as a friend, would he? "He has to have somebody."
"I'd like for him to find somebody," he expressed. "I'd love it he found somebody. He deserves that at least that." He looked frustrated that he couldn't get his point across to me.
"You just don't want that somebody to be Julia," I finished.
He looked relieved. "Exactly!" Point gotten across.
But what if Julia was "the one" for William? I mused, "And who was it that said it doesn't matter if you can have any girl in the world if you can't have the that you want?"
He paused to think. "I said that?"
I smiled. "Yeah."
"Wow!" he breathed. "Deep."
"Well, I paraphrased so that it would sound more posh," I teased.
Things grew quiet again.
"Andrew says," Hunter spoke, "that if you love someone you have to let them go. But I say if you love someone you have protect them. Whether or not they want that protection."
I digested what he said. "And I say you're both right."
He rolled his eyes. "Ya think?"
His American streak was showing. "Well, it depends on the situation," I defended.
"And what works in this situation?" he asked.
Thinking...thinking..."I'm not sure."
"Gee, thanks." Eye-roll again.
Well, excuse me for not being a wellspring of wisdom! Bit my tongue though. He looked so down.
Hunter, I wanted to say, is she your Venus? Is she your goddess? Is she your fire? Is she your desire? (These lines from some cheesy oldies song.) If the answer is yes...Then dang! Can't you give it another chance? Doesn't a love this grand deserve another chance? Take her in your arms, kiss her silly! But I said nothing. It wasn't in my position to say. Because, say Hunter did take a chance and asked her back. And Julia said, "No dice, baby." I'm not the one who's going to get hurt. Or say they do get back together, and then they break up again. But THIS time it will be throw-dinner-plates-at-him mode. They're friends now. What if they take another chance they turn to be brutal arch enemies? I'm not the one that gets hurt. So I was in no position to say anything. This sounded like one of my stories!
He smiled. "Sounds like one of your stories, right?"
So that's why he wanted me to write it? Oh, Hunter don't coincide my stories with this event in your life. They're frivolous and empty. Maybe that's what he wanted. By degrading the romance--it would hurt less? I'm guessing. His objectives are still lost on me.
There was a part of me which wondered, which story did he consider most similar to the situation? First Impressions? What's in a Kiss? In both William goes after his best friend's girl. Daddy Wills? "...careful world. Love Prince William and you die"? Those were the similarities. The difference? Hunter's story is real. Feeling I needed to say something I quoted from Secret Behind The Smile. "If Diana; Princess of Wales, can be taken so swiftly from an unassuming world, can't the same be said about her son?"
A pause. "And his girlfriend." he added softly.
"Yeah...and his girlfriend," I echoed. Okay... so, maybe the quote wasn't such a good idea. "I'm not helping, am I?"
"No. It's nice to talk to someone who's not biased."
I'm not biased? William's the guy of my dreams. And I'm not biased? "Okay..." I said.
"And you're writing the story."
Yes, I am. I noticed a tabloid article peeking out of the folder. "Why don't the tabloids know about this?"
He grinned. "Because they're idiots."
I smiled weakly. "But--but won't it bother to see your story in print? Won't it be like a tabloid article?"
He shook his head. "No, because it will be under the name fiction. No one would believe it."
Translation: Tabloids are mostly trash but sometimes the trash is true so at rare times it could be believed. Fiction: is all lies. Will never be believed. Did he realize how low I felt when he said that?
"Hunter," I teased. "If William gets a black eye. I know who did it."
There was a pause.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Just having suicidal and homicidal tendencies."
Whoa! From black eyes to this? How did that happen? "Y-You're joking, right?" I stammered. After a boy being found dead in his school just some days earlier (possible suicide or a risky game gone wrong) I wasn't so sure how to take this.
Hunter answered. "The suicidal part...but I'm not sure about the homicidal."
Talking about William? Gee, thanks boy for making me an accomplice to murder.
Hunter gestured to the tape recorder. "If you hear the tragic death of His Royal Highness in the news later you might want to save a recording of this conversation for evidence. The authorities may need it." He smiled.
He was joking. Wasn't he?
He looked at his watch. "I have something to do."
Busy boy. Nice to know one of us has a life. I yawned, realizing how tired I was. Jet lag. "Go," I told him sleepily.
"Will you still be here?"
"Where will I go?" I asked, my eyes already closed. I crossed my arms over the table and rested on them. I heard his footsteps as he walked past me. "Bye." I whispered. The word barely audible to my ears. I fell into the darkness of unconsciousness. Forgot about Eton. Forgot about William. Forgot about Hunter. What? Something about Hunter... I wasn't quick enough to grasp it. A few seconds later it no longer mattered.

"Wake up," the order was gentle.
"No'm," I mumbled. It was nice where I was. Cozy fuzziness that I wasn't ready to be pulled out of. Not just yet.
"C'mon, Starr." the familiar voice urged.
Starr? Was this the Internet? I looked up.
"Hey," he told me. There was an underlying grimness to his voice.
"Hey," I replied back, I tried to smile but didn't quite make it. Now I know how Sleeping Beauty felt waking up from her slumber at gazing at the handsome face in front of her.
"Here," He offered some kind of liquid.
Upon drinking it, I later found out was tea with milk. It tastes like mud. But those are my tastebuds. I checked the side of my mouth for drool. There wasn't any.
He handed me a magazine article. It was from yesterday. 2/25/99 WILLS' NIGHT OUT WITH CAMILLA'S CHILDREN. The article's pretty long. So this is Starrside's summary: William and Harry had dinner with Cammy's kids and it didn't end in a food fight. So if Cam and Chuck decide to tie the knot it could be a replay of the Brady Bunch. Charles might have to abdicate though. And we all hope St. James Palace has more than one bathroom. They were later joined by Emma (Laura and Tom's cousin), another girl and a youth.
"Guess who the youth was?" he said in a half-wry, half-proud manner.
"Does he have kissable lips?" I asked, slowly awakening as I read the clip.
"He's been told," he gave an uncharacteristically shy smile.
I guess the other girl was Julia.
"The bloke can't even go out to dinner with it being publicized. I'm just waiting for the pictures," he said bitterly.
He seemed so huggable then. I wondered how it would feel to rest my head on his shoulder. And to have his arms around me. To protect and feel safe in... Starr, get a hold of yourself. His heart belongs to someome else. He likes Julia.
"I'd like to see more pictures of you," I said quietly, reminded of the difference between me and him. I know the paparazzi is known as the enemy. And that William and his friends avoid getting their picture taken if they can help it (hate having pictures taken myself. In family portraits Im the one hiding behind the sofa). But...a picture is a connection to him. I'm not ready to give it up. And now that I had Hunter to look for...
He smiled understandingly. "I'll send them to you if there are any."
Whew! If I had to explain--
"This was a test," he said out of the blue.
A test? As in e=mc squared test?
"If this managed to stay out of the press then I'd be okay with Julia going out with William."
Cough cough. They're two mature people. You don't control them. Do they really need your permission? "So...William failed?"
"Hunter shoots. He scores!" he cheered.
That American streak showing again. "Uh, yeah," I agreed feebly.
I looked at the article. This was what he wanted to protect Julia from? From having her every move with William recorded for the world to see. I handed him back the article. Why was he telling me this? What did he expect me to do? Write a new life for William? And everything will be A-okay? Sure!

LIST OF IMPOSSIBLE THINGS TO DO TODAY:
1) Write this story
2) Convince the dean to admit girls in at Eton.
3) Make William "normal" (whatever that means)...

My head throbbed a little. I guess I hadn't competely woken up yet. Why was Hunter telling me this? To put in a story, came the answer.
I raised my gaze.
He looked at me as if he expected me to say something.
I licked my lips. They were dry. "I-I," damned stuttering! "I don't know much about William's life. But I do know--that I'll be unprepared for it."
Hunter looked...exhausted? depressed? disappointed?
Maybe he needed someone to understand his situation. "I could imagine," I offered.
His head snapped up. His expression clearly said, "You don't know what you're talking about."
"And it could be wrong," I immediately retracted. What in blue blazes was I supposed to say? Certainly not "I know how you feel" because I didnt. When in doubt say nothing. So that's what I did.