“It’s bad when they write untrue things about you, but it comes with the job, I guess. In Calgary though, I can go pretty unnoticed, and these lot have an alias so people don’t click on,” he explained.

“Ah. Jones. I wondered what that was about.”

“It’s just easier, especially for Boleyn at school, you know?” professed Pamela. She shifted on her seat nervously, “I don’t mean to sound out of line when I say this, but can I ask that you keep all of this to yourself? Boleyn finds it difficult dealing with Tudor’s fame at school. And we have a confidentiality agreement with the principal about anonymity,” she informed me, clearly embarrassed.

“It’s a given. I promise,” I assured them all.

There was a bit of awkward tension around the table, and so the best option seemed to navigate the conversation to Tate.

“So Tate, what’s your deal?” I smiled at him, eager to find out more about the incredibly reserved cutie. He was almost a mute.

“I’m Tudor’s assistant. Where he goes, I go. It’s my blessing and my curse,” he playfully nudged Tudor, earning a wink.

“He’s a godsend. I am not organised at all, and Tate takes care of everything. I wouldn't function without him,” Tudor responded, jabbing Tate on the arm.

Tate blushed. I couldn't imagine being that shy.

It was at that precise moment that everyone’s favourite fairy flew in. “Here you are! I wondered where you’d disappeared to. You ready to go par-tay, pork chops?”

I could see the confusion on the faces of the North clan at the ‘pork chops’ comment, but thankfully they let it slide.

Getting up and standing next to Tink, I started the introductions. “John this is-”

“John? Psht, it's Tink and you know it. What’s come over you?” he hissed glaring at me as though I had lost my mind.

Through gritted teeth I started again. “Fine! Tink this is Pamela, Boleyn, Samantha, Henry, Tate and Tudor. Everybody this is Tink, my best friend, roommate and fellow Geordie,” I gestured in his direction.

Henry began laughing, and Samantha hit his shoulder to shut him up.

I raised a questioning eyebrow. “What?”

Henry pointed along the table. “Tash, Tink, Tate and Tudor. All T’s – thank God you don’t all hang out, it’d be a total nightmare remembering all your names.”

I giggled. “Good job your hulk of a brother can’t stand me then, eh?” I lightly flicked Tudor on his arm, but he instantly grabbed my hand and stared at me, squeezing my hand gently in his.

“I don’t hate you,” he mumbled, all seductively.

I couldn’t look away, and felt frisky little shivers creeping up my arm from where his hand touched mine and that familiar warm sensation heading south.

Henry cleared his throat and broke the tension, “Tink? That’s a strange name. Where’s that from?” he asked with a curious side-look at me and his brother.

“Well, it’s a funny story. Wil and I–”

“Wil?” interrupted Tudor, looking mightily confused and breaking our weird little exchange.

“Yeah, Wilbur,” replied Tink, naturally assuming people would make the connection with me and the famous literary pig.

“You mean, Tash?” he clarified.

“Well, yeah but she’s been Wil to me since we were twelve. You know, she was named after the pig –”

“Well, I think we’ll leave it there, hey, Tink? Are you ready to go?” I interrupted, practically shouting while nipping his back and Chinese-burning his arm.

“Ow, Wil!”

I glared at him with daggers in my eyes, daring him to continue his delightful storytelling.

With a defeated huff, he spat out in a prissy tone. “Fine, yes.”

I noticed Tudor silently laughing, and I rolled my eyes at him in reference to Tink. I also noticed Tate. He was staring at the self-named ‘Friggin’fantastic fairy’ and was practically salivating.

Tudor, having seen me studying Tate, covertly glimpsed his way too and raised an eyebrow knowingly. Tink, on the other hand, was oblivious to Tate’s attention. He was too busy trying to embarrass me to notice anything else going on around him. I decided it was time to make an exit.

“Thank you for inviting me to meet you all properly, and for not holding my earlier performance against me. It was really nice to meet you. Tudor, good luck with the acting. Not that you need it but– ah, you know what I mean,” I flustered. “Boleyn, have a nice break, and I’ll see you next week. Samantha, Henry, Tate, Pamela, I hope you have a good night.”

With that, Tink and I headed towards the door, arms linked and giggling when I heard. “Nice to meet you too... Wil.”

I whipped my head around, stopping dead in my tracks.

Tudor had twisted in his seat, an amused expression on his face, obviously tickled at my swine-themed nickname.

Tink started laughing his head off at his dig, and I proceeded to stick my tongue out at Tudor, earning a loud, bellowing laugh from the Blade Reaper himself as I dragged a giddy fairy through the exit.

One-nil to him.

Tudor Bloody North!

Chapter 8

Smack-Bam into fate

The morning after…

I had been lying in my bed for about an hour trying to gain some form of energy to try and move so I could calm my spinning head. However, I instead found myself staring at the ceiling and thinking about recent events.