A Fabrication of the Truth Read Online Free Page B

a dress that small. “He just got one hundred times sexier,” she yelled over the music. There was no argument there.
    It looked like Dalton was the music itself – it just flowed from him so naturally. He caught my eye at the end of the song, looking from me over to Luiz and then to Caroline, and smirked. He leaned in close to the microphone, looked up through his long lashes, and pointed at me.
    “Prince Tomas sends his regards,” he said.
    He then started playing a bouncy little riff and sang.
    “She had a written correspondence love affair
    With a prince.
    She couldn’t say which –
    It was a secret.”
    He nodded at the two other members of the band – a bassist and a drummer – who both joined in as everybody in the crowd started to jump along. I had to say, it was really catchy.
    “She had a written correspondence love affair
    With a prince.
    She couldn’t say which –
    It was a secret.”
    He sang it a few more times and then laughed and pointed at me again. He needed to laugh more. He looked so good laughing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
    They started into their next song, and Luiz turned toward me. “I always thought you were shitting me. It’s true?” she asked as somebody bumped into her. “Hey,” Luiz said over her shoulder. The guy who bumped her continued with his flailing, which I think he thought was dancing. “It’s true?” Luiz asked again.
    I shrugged and smiled. Dalton Reyes was trying to get on my good side. I wanted to be mad, but I was thankful.
     

Chapter Five
    Now at least the prince I had tea with when I was twelve had a name, Prince Tomas. I guess I courted him, too. I figured that was when we got a bit older, though. But the story I told was that over summer vacation, The Prince invited me to high tea at the Dutch embassy. A courier in a limousine delivered a beautiful invitation to my front door. Tea at an embassy was a big deal, so I had to look my best – The Prince sent an assistant to take me shopping. We only went to the most expensive and exquisite shops, where I found a perfect silk gown for a Sunday afternoon with royalty. The Prince complimented me. He spoke of how my eyes looked a most beautiful brown, accentuated by my dress. The Prince was charming, of course, and even at twelve, always the gentleman.
    I brought a small silver teaspoon to school so everyone could see what The Prince gave me as a token of appreciation. At the time, it was my most grandiose lie. In third grade, when I told everybody about the zombie in my basement, they didn’t need any evidence – but seventh graders are much smarter than third, so I had to bring in proof to support my claim. It was really a spoon my grandma bought on vacation which sat with the rest of the cutlery in the silverware drawer.
    I reigned supreme in summer vacation stories. I couldn’t tell my classmates that I had really rejected my dad’s request to see him; or that I sat in a church basement playing bingo; or that I couldn’t sleep because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Dalton lying on the floor bleeding – it took over a year for those nightmares to go away. The Prince treated me much nicer than my reality.
    ***
    After Dalton and his band played a few more songs, I shrunk back in the crowd and watched from afar.
    “Lexie!” Caroline called in octave not often heard amongst humans. She came up from behind and shook my shoulder. She had snuck off to get something to drink, and I had a sneaking suspicion it started with a B, had a couple of Es, and ended in an R. Caroline was normally an upbeat person, but she seemed almost too ecstatic to have found me standing there while I pretended not to pay attention to the band.
    “Hey, Caroline.”
    “So you, like, hooking up with him after they’re done playing?”
    “Who?”
    “Uh, hello, Dalton.”
    “Are boys and sex the only things ever on your mind?”
    “Since Dalton longs for you, I’ll take the drummer. He’s pretty cute. He’s got a