Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Low murmurs and giggles floated from the backseat. Sara didn’t take her eyes off the road. “Felice, what are they doing?”

Felice glanced at the back. “Looking at their phones and still being gross.”

“Yeah no, we need to talk about where we’re going. Can you get their attention?”

Felice turned around. “Simon.”

Giggle giggle.

“Wille. ”

Giggle smirk snort giggle.

“FUCK IT’S THE QUEEN!”

Their heads whipped up. “What?! Where?? How!?! ”

“Oh no, I just said that to get your attention. Can you please sext later so we can talk now?” 

“We were actually doing you a favour by being on our phones, and it wasn’t sexting –”

“ – and we didn’t want to disturb your conversation in the front –”

“ – we were literally just texting each other –”

Felice smacked Wille on the knee. “Jesus. You two. We’re happy you’re back together, but literally shut up and listen to Sara for like two seconds, then you can go back to being disgusting.”

Simon frowned. “What are we talking about?”

Sara sighed, checked her mirrors, and pulled over to the side of the road. Then she turned around. “What exactly are we doing, and where are we going?”

The group looked at each other. Crickets chirped. Sara huffed, and turned to Felice. “You’re not going to New York, right?” Felice shook her head emphatically. Sara looked at Simon. “Are you still working at the pizzeria in Bjärstad over the summer?”  

“Well, yeah, but not for another two weeks.”

“Okay, and I was just going to keep working at the stables, but I start the same time as Simon, and anyway who knows what’s happening with that now that Hillerska’s closed.” 

Sara looked at Wille, and saw the moment his brain came back online. “Wait, are you saying we can plan something? To do over the summer? Like, now ?”

Sara blinked. Christ, it’s a good thing he’s pretty. Luckily, she was learning to keep some thoughts to herself. Yay, personal growth. “Well, it’s an option. I mean, I can just drive us home, and then SÄPO can just pick you up before you go do princely things for the summer, and Felice’s parents can get her, and –”

“No! Hang on, let me think.” Wille looked out the window, chewing his fingernail, then turned back to the group. “I think we’ve all earned a bit of a vacation, haven’t we?” 

He looked at Simon, whose eyes crinkled. Felice clapped her hands. 

Sara smiled.

Chapter Text

In the afternoon of their second day at Felice’s summer home, Sara got very hungry very early. So she texted the group: I’m having a fika. Let me know if you want to join me. To her surprise, Simon texted back almost immediately: I’m coming now and Wille and Felice will come in a bit . 

When he arrived in the kitchen, Sara paused as she gathered the cutlery, and looked – really looked – at her brother. 

He looked good. Skin glowing, eyes less shadowed, although still carrying traces of the last weeks’ tension. Walking loosely, shoulders relaxed.

Sara could now put a name to what she saw: Simon looked well loved. Her gut pinched as she recalled when she had last felt the same. 

Then she packed it away.

“Do you want coffee or tea? And what does Wille want?”

“I think coffee for us four? Can you make it while I grab the cakes?”

Sara and Simon were close in age, and they were best friends. (Although as Felice had taught her, a person can have multiple best friends. Sara was happy now to have two of them.) She knew her brother’s moods, and in any case, he didn’t hide his emotions particularly well. 

She knew when he needed to be fed, before he chewed everyone’s head off. She knew when he had read something in the news that enraged him. She knew when he was freezing his ass off but pretending not to be, and she knew when he was happy to just be, soaking in the world, maybe listening to music. 

So as they worked in silence – she made the coffee, he assembled the trays to take outside – Sara knew Simon had something to say.

The others were coming soon, and she didn’t know when the next opportunity would be to talk, what with Maddie’s arrival, the boys’ ongoing sexcapades, and some phone call with the Palace that Wille had been planning with Simon (when they weren’t engaged in said sexcapades). Given all of this, she turned to her brother as the coffee brewed. “Simon. What’s on your mind?”

Simon started. She saw the moment he considered prevaricating, then changed his mind, and seemed to prepare himself. 

“Sara, are we okay?”

She considered him. “What makes you think we aren’t?” He didn’t answer, and there was another expression on his face she couldn’t read – she didn’t think she had ever seen it before, directed at her. Hm. When in doubt, ask questions. “Is there something you’re still mad about?”

Simon placed the kanelbullar and kardemummabullar on a plate, arranging them more carefully than he normally would. Then he spoke, hesitant. He wasn’t usually this hesitant. 

“I’m still confused about why you got so mad at me, not telling you that I was visiting pappa. And then you went and kept such a huge thing about August from me. Like, I know we always said ‘no keeping secrets’, and I get it, how your head was turned around when you fell in love, but…” He stopped, hands still on the counter. “It just felt like there was one set of rules for me, and one set for you, and that wasn’t fair.” Simon’s eyes flitted towards her, then away. She could tell he was being truthful, but there was that expression again behind his eyes, the one she couldn’t read. What was it? 

When in doubt, ask questions. “Where is this coming from?” 

Her brother went to the refrigerator. “Wille and I have been talking, in between, well, you know…”

“Yes, we actually do know because we’ve heard…”

Simon put his face in his hands and groaned. “Sorry. We’ll try to be quieter.”

“Please try. Try much harder.” 

He flapped his hand in her direction. “Anyway, we’ve been talking, and realising some things about ourselves. And I’ve been thinking about you and me, as well. I’m trying to see it from your side,” he was looking at pastries on the countertop, “and I suppose maybe in your eyes I was the one who broke the ‘no keeping secrets’ rule first, and so maybe that made it okay for you to keep a secret from me, but then I still just –” Simon swallowed, and kept his eyes down. “You really hurt me, Sara, this year, and I just don’t understand how you could do it. I forgive you, I do, I really meant it earlier this week – but I don’t get it.”

Sara put down the coffee pot and stared at Simon, thinking. She was a little confused, really, why he was bringing this up again if had already said he forgave her. So she rewound his words in her head. And looked at her little brother, who was fiddling with the cuffs of his jumper. Shifting his feet back and forth. Not meeting her eyes. 

Oh. 

She had seen this before, in horses. 

Her brother was wary of her. 

When the realization came, her heart sank. Simon had never, ever been afraid of her, and rarely held back in his thoughts. He didn’t talk a whole lot, but when he did, he said what he wanted to say. He attacked (sometimes foolishly), he spit out his truths, and often put his foot in his mouth. He laughed loudly. He loved loudly. 

But now, he was being careful with his words, and his emotions, while also trying to be truthful. She didn’t want him to be afraid, but maybe it wasn’t a bad thing that he was being more measured. 

She would try to match him, and be truthful too.

“I think there was a bit of me that saw it as ‘an eye for an eye’, or something like that. In my brain it made sense: I saw you go to pappa’s, which we had promised not to do. You knew how much he had hurt me and mamma and you, and you did it anyway, and for such a dumb reason.”

“I did it because I wanted you to fit in!”

“Simon, you know I’m not going to fit in, in most places. You can’t protect me from everything. I’m going to mess up eventually, but that’s for me to learn from.”

Simon looked at her knowingly. She sighed.

“Which is what I did this year. But when you went to pappa , it felt okay, or payback I guess, to keep a secret from you.” Sara shrugged. “Obviously, now I know that wasn’t the right way to think. But I was really messed up in my head, and – and – my heart. I couldn’t tell right from wrong. I was so confused.” She took a step forward. “I really screwed up this year, and hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Simon bit his lip. “I’m really sorry I went back to Micke, and for such a stupid reason. I know you think differently now about giving people second chances, but I knew how much he hurt you back then, and why you didn’t want either of us to see him again, and I still did it anyway.”

Sara looked him directly in the eye. “And I’m really, really sorry that I ratted on you to August. And kept the video a secret.” She paused. “And went to the police without asking you. Amongst other things.” 

Simon blew out a gusty breath. “Fuck, what a year.” He stepped into her space and his arms closed around her like a vise. 

It felt good. Sara really loved her brother.

After a while, Sara loosened her arms and stepped back. She finished pouring the coffee, then spoke. “So can we promise to not keep secrets from each other?” 

Simon fiddled with his nails. Was he picking this up from Wille? If so it needed to stop; it wasn’t a good look. “To be honest, I don’t know if that’s possible. Or even realistic? Because, like, you and Felice are going to have secrets from me, and that’s okay, as long as they’re not about me. Or whatever.” He met her eyes. “So maybe, it’s more like, we can’t promise to tell each other everything, but we won’t lie to each other, and we’ll do our best not to hurt each other. Can we start there?”

Sara nodded and smiled at her brother, and he smiled back.

Chapter Text

Felice stared at the text, then went outside. She found Sara sunning herself on a rock. Felice smiled. Her friend looked peaceful. Then she frowned. She hoped her friend’s peace wasn’t about to be disturbed for good.

“Sara, do you have a minute?”

Sara’s eyes remained closed, but she nodded. “Mm?”

“Maddie asked if she could join us.” 

At that, Sara’s eyes opened, and she turned her head fully towards Felice. “What? I thought she was in New York.”

“Here, you read.” She passed Sara her phone. 

Sara sat up and read the texts. “Do you believe her?”

Felice huffed a laugh. “Which part? That Fredrika and Stella were bitching nonstop about me? Yes. That Maddie kicked them out of her parents’ apartment? Also yes. That she wants to come here? Of course she does.”

Sara looked straight at her. “Do you believe that she’s sorry, and she wants to be friends with you again, properly?” 

Felice looked out at the water. Then, slowly, “I think she does, but I’m just not sure if what she can give, as a friend, is what I need.” She turned back to Sara. “Is that too harsh?”

Sara shrugged. “I’m okay with her coming. I can always ignore her if she’s being mean –” Felice snorted “– and it’s your house anyway, so you can invite anyone you want. Although I appreciate you asking.” Sara smiled. “But I think she wants to try, and it’ll be okay.”

Felice exhaled. “Okay. Let’s do it.” She texted Maddie back and waited for her response. “Right, she’s getting here in two days, in the evening. And she asked if she can bring us anything from America?” 

“Nothing for me, thanks.” Sara got up and headed towards the water, then turned around. “Although, is it convenient for her to get earplugs? For us three?”

Oh. Right. Felice grimaced, and picked up her phone again.

_____________________________________________________________________________

what’s your eta

like 30 min or so

that’s if nothing happens

what on earth could happen?? we’re in the middle of nowhere

don’t say that!!

have you never seen a horror movie

that’s literally how it all starts

whatever

also, how did you find an uber to take you here…

i mean, it could be farther…

it’s just the skärgård

lol i suppose. anyway simon and sara are making dinner rn and abt to make the sauce, how much do you want

i’m so hungry you have no clue i could eat a cow i want all the pasta

lol ok weirdo

thx!!

_____________________________________________________________________________

Maddie couldn’t find the other girls. She’d woken up late due to jet lag, and knew Felice and Sara were supposed to be outside. But she’d searched everywhere and couldn’t find them, the car was still there, and they weren’t responding to texts.

Normally, she would have been happy to bed rot the day away. But she and Felice still hadn’t talked, and she was getting antsy, and would rather get it out of the way. So she only had one option left. 

Shit. 

She sighed, girded her loins (ha!), and gingerly crept up the stairs.

She stopped on the third step. Was that a moan she heard? Dammit. She craned her neck and tilted her head, listening hard, but heard nothing else.

At the top of the stairs Maddie paused again, listening closely. Then she decided to change tactics, and clomped loudly the rest of the way to the boys’ room. 

“La la la la la, Wille and Simon, I’m here!” She rapped, hard, on their door. 

Murmurs floated through the panel, then Wille replied. “Yes?”

“Do you know where Sara and Felice are?”

“Uh…we don’t know? Is it important?”

She could picture their faces. What? She interrupted us for this? Well, too fucking bad. 

Maddie heaved a sigh. “I’m giving you ten seconds, then I’m opening the door, and I promise I’ll be quick. Ten…”

“Jesus fucking Christ, why would you –”

“...Seven…”

“Oh, come on Maddie!” Wow, who knew the Crown Prince could be so whiny. 

“...Four…threetwoone HELLO BOYS!” She flung open the door. No dicks. Excellent. Grumpy faces, but those she could deal with.

“Sorry to interrupt your tenth shag of the day –”

Wille snorted. “Even we’re not that prodigious.” 

Simon turned his face up from where it lay on Wille’s chest, and smirked. “Is that a challenge?”

Maddie smacked the open door. “Focus! Where are the others? They said they’d be outside by the water, but I can’t find them.”

“Did you try the boathouse? Apparently if you go past it, there are some large flat rocks where they went swimming yesterday, and it sounded nice.” 

Maddie looked at Wille, and narrowed her eyes. “ Apparently ? Sounded ? As in, you haven’t seen it yourselves?” Huh. She had never seen Wille that colour red before. “It’s been three days. Have you idiots actually just been in here having nonstop s–”

The pillow hit the door as she closed it behind her. She cackled.

Boathouse, boathouse, where’s the boathouse. She’d grown up in New York City, but she had friends with places on Long Island, and water and boats are the same everywhere right? Okay, find the water, find a structure, then get to the other side. Boom. Done. 

When she heard voices twenty minutes later (apparently there were multiple reasons to have waterfront structures besides housing boats), she gave a fist pump. Then she remembered why she was there, and stopped in her tracks.

Maddie thought she knew herself. She was cool but also a little out there, she was woke but not, like, annoyingly so, and she was aware enough of her privilege to use it for good. She was a 16-year-old girl, so she wasn’t going to be perfect all the time, and when else is she going to be selfish from time to time, if not now? But she didn’t take shit from others (especially asshole fuckboys), and she knew right from wrong. 

But she had a feeling she’d really screwed up with Felice. 

Oh well. Nothing to it. If it didn’t go well, at least she knew that Ubers could get out here.

She found them sunbathing on the rocks, Sara engrossed in a book, and greeted them. “Hey! How’s the water?”

Felice shivered. “Colder than I’d like, but it’s okay as a break. Sun’s nice. Welcome to your first Swedish summer!” 

Sara cocked her head. “You’ve never spent a summer in Sweden?”

“No, it’s only ever been school, and we’re based in New York anyway. Why else do you think my Swedish is so shitty?”

“It’s really not bad, Maddie!”

“Besides, how are you going to get better if you don’t speak it?” Leave it to Sara to not beat around the bush. 

Although, come to think of it, that’s what she was here to do, right? Crap. Okay, here goes.

“Felice, uh, sorry for interrupting, but I was wondering if we could talk?”

Both heads turned and examined her silently. Jesus, way to be in the fucking spotlight all of a sudden. 

“It doesn’t have to be now, and it can always be later for when you’re more comfortable, but I just thought I’d put it out there –”

“Maddie. It’s fine. I think now could be good actually.” Felice sat up and arranged herself. Sara stood up and began to fold her towel.

“Wait. Sara, you’re fine to stay, if Felice is okay with it.”

Felice shrugged minutely. “Yeah.” Sara looked at both of them, then her face clearly said Whatever , and lay back down again with her book.

Felice just looked at her. Okay, apparently she was starting. Maddie took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry Felice. About this year, and not being a good friend to you, and Freddie and Stella and their bullshit, and everything. I meant it when I said I wanted us to be friends again, and I hope that’s possible.”

Maddie liked silence as much as the next person, but this one was a little unnerving. Finally, Felice spoke. “Why do you say you weren’t a good friend?”

Oh boy. “I’m mainly sorry for not having your back more often this year, and more…obviously, I guess. Or more loudly. Like, I know I didn’t pile on you about the interview in the same way as the others, but looking back I’m not too happy with how I just – like, brushed it aside, and didn’t call them out.” 

Maddie grabbed a tea cake from the picnic basket. “I don’t know. It’s funny how people change when others aren’t around. Like, I spent 48 hours with Freddie and Stella, and the amount they were shitting on you was unbelievable, in a way I would normally say they don’t have the guts to do to your face. Except then I saw them doing it the day we found out the school would close. But those 48 hours – it just all came out, all these ways they felt so oppressed and how life was incredibly unfair, and it was all about them, and nothing I said got through to them, and it honestly sucked, and I missed you, and –”

“Why?”

Maddie choked on a raisin. “Why what?”

“Why did it suck for you? Why does it matter to you what they say?” And Felice’s face was hard, in a way she had never seen it before. “You can just brush off the bad vibes and go on your way –” okay, that sounded a little mocking, but she would take it “– and we won’t even be together next year. So why do you care?”

Maddie knew why. Until Simon had arrived, she was the wokest person in the school. She had a brain. She had listened to the podcasts, read the articles, reposted all the social media. She lived in New York, for Christ’s sake. 

She knew what she had to say. And she owed it to Felice to say it out loud.

But fuck was it hard. Oh well.

“Because it wasn’t right, how you were treated at school. And because it could happen to me. And it made me scared.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sara look over. 

“It makes sense, when I think about it. And I had a whole ass flight and Uber to think deeply.” She waved her hand in the general direction of America. “In New York I’m just one of a bajillion multiracial kids, and no one blinks an eye that I’m like Indian-Irish-Swedish-American. Most of my family there is from my father’s side, so I spend more time with them than my Swedish family. I don’t feel particularly Indian, or Irish, and I don’t speak any of the languages from those cultures, but I feel fine with it. Even in the shitstorm that is America. New York’s nice like that.”

She looked down. Her tea cake was now in crumbs. 

“But when my parents decided that I would finish middle school in America, and do one year of Högstadiet in Sweden before going to Gymnasieskola at Hillerska to ‘get in touch with my Swedish heritage’...” Maddie rolled her eyes. “You’d have thought my parents would find me an international school where I’d at least be different like everyone else, but noooo, they decided the fastest way for me to learn Swedish was to live with my Swedish grandparents and go to the local public school in the Whitest part of Stockholm, which is already pretty fucking White .” Sara snorted. “And so I was like the American girl who spoke Swedish with an accent and understood most but not all of it, and I didn’t look that different from everyone but clearly was different…and everyone was already in friend groups from fucking primary school. And when my dad came by to pick me up for Christmas, I saw the way they looked at him.” She swallowed, “Everyone was already making fun of me and being assholes in Swedish to my face, but then they saw him, and looked at me, and I could see it on their faces, every stupid bigoted thought in their heads…” 

Something dripped onto her lap. A napkin came into her view and was pressed into her hand. Oh. For her tears, then. That was nice.

Maddie blew her nose and wiped her eyes, then continued. “Pretty quickly, I saw that while all the non-White kids stayed together, I was actually included in the other groups, with all the White Swedish kids – and it was just…easier, to suck it up, and be known as the weird American, and still be included. Life is easier when you’re included.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sara shift. Yeah, she knows what that’s like. “So I just decided to lean into it when I got to Hillerska.” 

Maddie looked up, straight at Felice. “And I recognise that I did that, because I could get a fresh start, and get away with looking White. And I didn’t want to be left out at Hillerska, which is somehow even fucking smaller than the school I went to for Högstadiet.

“So I guess what I’m saying is – I should have stuck up for you more, to our friends and our classmates and to the teachers and our housemistress. Because I was in a position to actually kind of understand what you were going through, and also to not have to go through it myself. And I’m sorry for not seeing that last year, and for not having your back.”

Felice was silent for a long time. Maddie couldn’t read her face. She felt the urge to prod, but forced herself to wait. She looked at Sara, who was fully listening, calmly. Good vibes over there. Let’s borrow some of that peaceful energy.

“Did I tell you what pappa said right before my interview, with the School Inspectorate?” Felice looked at them, who shook their heads. Felice sighed. “I didn’t know what to say to them. I really wanted to tell the truth, but I didn’t know what good it would do, and, like, how many people like me could I talk to about this anyway? So I asked pappa what Hillerska was like, for him.” She flung up her hands. “And it was crazy! One minute he’s all, It was the best years of my life, so much fun, friends forever , blah blah blah, and the next minute he’s saying he erased his identity, cut his hair, n-word flying around, teachers being just as racist as students…and always taking the high road, always needing to be perfect...” 

“Total bullshit.” 

Felice nodded. “Absolute bullshit.” She looked at Sara. “I’ve already told you this, but I’m really grateful for your friendship. You helped me see there was a different way to go about life, and just…own it. Own myself. And not wake up an hour earlier before class to straighten my hair.” She turned to Maddie. “Which is why I told the School Inspectorate the truth.” 

Maddie jumped up and screamed. “WOOHOOOOOOO!” She turned to the sea and shrieked, “FELICE IS THE BADDEST BITCH IN SCANDI-FUCKING-NAVIAAAA!!” 

When she sat back down, Felice and Sara were grinning. “So you told them the truth.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did. I don’t regret it. I’m actually glad I had some part in closing it down, because it was too much. And I only mention it because I get what you’re saying – you can hide behind your skin colour, and we can both hide behind our wealth, and end up erasing parts of ourselves just to fit in. But I didn’t want to do that any more last year, and for others to go through what I did, and pappa , and Simon and Sara – and it hurt when you didn’t stick up for me in ways that I thought you could –”

“And should have.”

“No, but –”

“No Felice, for real.” She grasped Felice’s hand. “I should have, and I’m sorry. But I’ll do better.” She held out her other hand to Sara, and they all linked hands. “I promise to do better in sticking up for my friends, even when it’s weird and uncomfortable for me. Especially then.”

Sara gripped their hands. “I told my brother this, and I’ll tell you the same: I promise to not lie to you, even though I might not be able to share everything. But I won’t lie, or lie by omission.”

Felice grinned. “And I promise to do all of that, for both of you.” 

They beamed at each other, hands grasped. Then: 

“Maddie, are we doing witchy things right now?”

Gasp. “Do you want to, Sara?! Because we can! This place honestly feels pretty good, but we can still put it through a purification ceremony, just to be extra sure…”

“Girl, are you saying my home is dirty?”

“I would never.”

Chapter Text

If you had asked Simon the day of the Jubilee why he loved Wille, he would have been stumped.

He didn’t know why. He just knew. My name is Simon Eriksson, I have a mother and sister, I like satsumas and making music, and I love Wille. Ask an obvious question, get an obvious answer.

If pushed, he would have probably said something about the way Wille’s hair swooped in front of his eyes, or how his lanky teenage body curved around his own. How that space in the curve of his neck, right above his heart, said, Here, Simon, you can stay here . 

But you don’t say those things out loud, when asked why you love someone at sixteen. Even if you feel that your heart has taken root in the safe cavern of another’s soul.  

If pressed even further, he would have said that he loved being loved by Wille. After the tumultuous back and forth from Wille had ended in the late autumn (and boy, did he ever feel jerked around back then), he could honestly say that he never doubted being loved. Even with the miniscule blip with Felice, Simon knew that was never in question. (They were teenagers, and they did stupid fucking shit when they were angry and frustrated and sad.) Through it all, Simon would feel Wille’s eyes follow him around the room, and feel the care in his fingers as they pressed into his ribs, and he knew that if he asked for a single drop of rain, Wille would bring an ocean.

But even as the words had left his mouth for the first time in April, even then, buried deep, deep down below his breastbone, under layers of muscle and fat and desire and love – Simon knew , and he still wondered: I hope our love is enough . 

He kept that hope alive as the days warmed, and as the chill of fear sank into his bones. He whispered it to Wille at their lockers and at workies and after choir, then on the phone as their time together shredded them apart. He screamed it in his heart as he tore up pamphlets and swept up shards of glass in his childhood home, and wept in the bus and in his room and in his mother’s arms.

A week ago, he broke their hearts, and killed them to save them. The refrain never changed: My name is Simon Eriksson, my best friends are Ayub and Rosh, I survived my pappa leaving, and I love Wille.

It just wasn’t enough. 

Now, he sat in a chair by the window, the warm June sun lighting his hands aglow as he peeled two satsumas, and watched Wille tidy his possessions. And Simon thought: if someone asked him now why he loved Wille, he would be able to add a few more items.

More Reasons Why Simon Eriksson Loves Wille

1. The most privileged motherfucker in Sweden, and he learned how to change the bed linens without complaint. (But also, the two of them were making a mess, so needs must.)
2. See above re privilege and needs: Wille learned how to run a washing machine without complaint. Simon had a feeling some of Wille’s organic cotton, hand-dyed, woven-by-rehabilitated-caterpillars-at-dawn T-shirts had shrunk, but served rich people right. That’s what H&M was for. 
3. After hearing the washer jingle the first time, Wille began to run down thirty seconds before the cycle ended to listen to it in full. Simon once caught him wiggling his skinny white boy ass to the music. What a dork. (It was videoed. It will be blackmail. He will not apologize. And no, it was not too soon to make that joke.)
4. See above re privilege part 3: Actually, Wille adjusted to real person life (well, rich real person life) with a pretty open mind, including dishes, cooking, setting the table, etc. Normal things, unless you’re a prince.
5. Speaking of prince, animals seemed to love Wille, and he loved them back. Actual real life Disney princess here.
6. Except for ducks. What the fuck. Simon would never not die laughing at the memory of Wille trying to climb him to avoid the duck. Did he jump away when Wille tried to jump on? Of course.
7. Wille loved to do things for Simon. Not because he thought he was helpless, but because that was how he showed his love. So making sandwiches, peeling satsumas, refilling his water bottle, smacking Felice’s hand away when she tried to make Simon a sandwich – actually, come to think of it, a lot of it was food related. Whatever.

It was his heart, Simon had realised. Wille’s heart was as big and wide and deep as the sea, and those lucky enough to be invited in would happily drown in its waters forever. It could be bruised so easily – God, how his boyfriend’s heart had been pummelled and battered this year – but Simon saw hope in how Wille was learning to take care of it for himself, so that he could continue to give. 

Which brought them to today’s video call.

“Wille, I think it’s tidy enough.”

Wille didn’t stop folding his clothes (although why he bothered, Simon couldn’t say - Wille tried very hard, bless his privileged princely soul, but he was shit at it), and just muttered, “It’s best to have it as neat as possible.”

“Wille, if it matters that much, just dump everything in the background out of frame. As long as the bed is neat, who cares?”

Wille glared at him (but gave up folding and started hanging his T-shirts – seriously, what in the rich white person was that). “Simon, that is absolutely no way to live –”

“You filthy hypocrite, I have seen you put your SHOES ON YOUR PILLOW WHAT THE FUCK.”

“– And I don’t know how she does it but she’ll just know . I do not want to give my mother a single hint of what we’ve been doing the last four days.”

Simon grinned. “What? We’ve been having dinner every night with the girls!”

Wille pressed his lips together.

“And we go outside every day!”

Wille’s lips twitched.

“We even went in the water once!”

Wille snorted, hung the last T-shirt, straightened a pillow, and came over, sitting in the other chair across from Simon.

“And look, you also talked to Boris two days ago. So I know people might assume we’ve just been having sex –”

Wille popped two sections of satsuma in his mouth, and said with his mouth full, “They’re not wrong.”

“– but we have been doing other things besides the obvious.” Simon’s smile dropped. “Or, you know, what we’re known for.” 

He looked down at his lap. Why did he have to bring that up now? Way to kill the mood. Then Wille’s hand crept in from the corner of his eye, and grasped his hand. “Simon? Are you uncomfortable with how we talk about sex? Or,” and he seemed to gather his thoughts slowly, “are you uncomfortable with us having so much sex recently, or what we’ve done so far? We really don’t have to, you know.”

Simon’s head whipped up. “No, Wille, no , I love everything we’ve done. It will take a while for…the video to not hang over us, but that has nothing to do with me being with you.” He smiled shyly. “Is it – is it the same for you?”

Wille nodded, also smiling, and stroked his hand. “And also, we’ve been talking lots these last few days, which is really nice. I love talking to you.” Then his smile turned deliberately wicked. “Although we might need to have a discussion about supplies for the next time we go shopping…”

“Wille, we are not discussing this right now.”

“Why noooot?” Idly, Simon wondered if he’d ever fall out of love of Wille’s whining. Probably not, but give it time.

“Because you’re about to speak to your mother.”

“Ah. Yes. We will save it for later then.” Wille finished the satsuma in his hand, then surveyed the room. Simon followed his eyes – from the vantage point of the desk, all the Queen should see was a neatly made bed with all the decorative cushions replaced on the duvet ( seriously – what was it with rich people and useless crap?), and all of Wille’s clothing was more or less in the wardrobe, Simon having been living out of a single drawer.

“I think it looks good. You sure you want me here?” 

Wille nodded, and worried at a fingernail. Simon reached across, pulled his hand away, and kissed the poor abused finger. “Where do you want me?”

“Maybe…on one side of the desk, next to me, so you can see the screen, but out of frame? Would that be okay?”

Simon came over and sat on Wille’s lap. Their arms enfolded each other. My name is Simon Eriksson, I live in Bjärstad, I’m almost seventeen years old, and I love Wille. “Always.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

Simon hadn’t been there when Wille spoke to Boris, but it had seemed productive. At least, before the meeting Wille had regained some of the nervous, frantic energy from those fraught autumn days, and then when Simon had returned Wille was steadier and had a written list of talking points. 

As they sat at the desk and waited to log on, Simon eyed his boyfriend. What would others see, if they saw Wille now?

No longer a boy, he thought, but a young man. Broad shoulders, hair now lightened by the summer sun, and a posture that Simon thought Wille had grown into over the past year. (Wille had shot up ten centimeters in the last six months, and Simon had gained zero. Life was unfair.) Fingers still picking at his nails, but perhaps more gently than before. Shoulders relaxed, chin held high. 

And his eyes. Simon had seen those beloved brown eyes in grief and helplessness, rage, violence and desire – and love, always love. The current combination though, of lightness, determination, still a hint of anxiety, but resolute nonetheless…

Yeah. It was kinda hot.  

Wille looked at Simon. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Wille clicked on the link. He folded his hands in front of him, notes in front. Simon hooked his foot around Wille’s ankle. 

Then the Queen of Sweden appeared onscreen.

(Simon supposed he should start thinking of her as Kristina, as per her invitation. But in the time he’d known Wille, it was hard to see her as his boyfriend’s mother when she was so busy being his boss, to use her own words. Also, who the fuck says that.) 

“Good morning mamma .”

“Good morning gubben . How are you doing?”

“I’m well, thank you. We’ve been enjoying Felice’s family’s hospitality, and the weather has been good. Thank you for letting me stay here on such short notice and accommodating the change in schedule.”

“I’m glad to hear that, and it’s no problem at all.” 

Was he listening to mother and son, or to a business meeting? 

“How are you and pappa doing?”

“We’re doing well. We returned to Drottningholm with no issues, and we have one or two engagements in June, but nothing major.”

“That’s good.”

More silence. Wille fiddled with his notes. His mother took a very slow slip of water. If this was how royal matters were conducted, Simon wanted no part of it. 

“I’m glad you reached out, älskling. You said you wanted to speak to me about something?” Ah, there was that queenly training coming through.

Wille nodded, and cleared his throat. Simon pressed his foot against Wille, who nudged back. Then he began.  

“Yes. Er, I suppose I could have waited until I came back, but part of what I wanted to talk about has to do with the summer, so I thought we could talk now.”

“That’s fine.” She looked open. Good sign.

“I um, I wrote down what I wanted to say. I wanted to make sure that my thoughts were clear, and Boris said it can be helpful to write it down beforehand, to make it easier to say. Can you – would you be willing to listen to me the whole way through?” 

What followed was, hopefully, the beginning of the next stage of their lives. Simon knew that Wille had talked to his parents in the car, but they both knew that many more discussions would be needed to begin planning for Wille’s abdication, his future outside of the royal family, and their relationship. In order for it to happen though, it had to start with Kristina.

She listened silently to Wille, who was nervous but spoke carefully as he fought for his future. When he had finished, she nodded slowly. 

“So, I will summarize what I have heard you say, to ensure there is clarity for us both. For your own mental health and personal preference, you would like to formally abdicate your place in the royal succession. You would like to renounce all titles and live as a private citizen, with no further participation in official responsibilities on behalf of the Royal Family, although you will still and always be a part of our family. You would like to go to school in Sweden next year, and maintain a private, but not secret, relationship with Simon. Do I have it all?” 

Wille looked stunned. Simon couldn’t blame him – he’d kind of expected Kristina to have hung up by now. “Yes – yes, that’s all correct.”

She regarded her son. Simon couldn’t read her expression. Then she surprised them both again.

“Would you like me to answer as your mother, or as your Queen?” 

Wille’s eyes darted sideways at Simon. “I sort of assumed that for this discussion, they were one and the same.”

“You are correct that there will be inevitable overlap. However, in some of my own…personal discussions, I have been encouraged to consider making a more explicit distinction, for now, for both our sakes.” 

“I see.” Wille hand moved towards his mouth, habits coming to the fore, then he lowered it to his lap. Underneath the table, he reached towards Simon, who grasped his hand. “Can you please answer as the Queen, first?” 

His mother’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Simon was with her on that – it was not what he had expected. 

“Certainly. As your Queen, I cannot, of course, force you into a future that you reject, so I will outline what this alternative would look like. If you abdicate, August will become Kronprins , and will eventually be the King of Sweden. After you turn 18, you will no longer have available to you the privileges you have enjoyed as Kronprins , as funded by the state, including personal protection, community outreach, career opportunities, and media support; all of this would be funded by your own career and our personal family funds.” Simon snorted to himself. As if that would be a hardship. But she wasn’t done.

“I also feel the responsibility to mention that regardless of your status now, it will take years for people to disassociate you from your role as Kronprins and the events of this year. You will still be recognized in the streets. As a minor, you will continue to be under our guardianship, and as such I will ensure that you have access to both physical protection and media support from our team, and we will continue to guide you in these matters. But unless you seclude yourself in northern Siberia, I am afraid that public scrutiny will be an inevitable part of your life for many years, and which also applies to your partners, past, present or future.” And her eyes shifted, to where Simon was sitting offscreen. Oops. 

And she still wasn’t done.

“I would like to suggest the following compromise. You may take a step back from royal responsibilities in order to focus on your schooling and health until you turn 18; this will not be a surprise to anyone after this past year, so it is easily done. We can discuss where you go to school in another meeting, but while my preference is that you attend schools where you can meet like-minded people, I am not opposed to you finishing your schooling in Sweden. We could make a partial announcement when you turn 18, and you would not take up any royal duties full-time until you graduate, at which time decisions can be finalised. And this would give you two more years to consider your future.”

During the Queen’s speech Simon watched Wille become more and more agitated, visibly fighting with himself not to interrupt, or explode out of his chair. His right hand was now numb, where Wille clung to it, and his feet were fully encased between Wille’s calves. His left thigh felt the pressure of fingernails through his jeans. 

He knew what she was really saying – delay the decision, and buy time to change Wille’s mind. 

He was so, so afraid. 

When she finished speaking, Wille lowered his head and closed his eyes for a long moment, breathing deeply. Then he opened them and turned fully to Simon. 

In the time he had known Wille, Simon grew to love looking into Wille’s eyes – with two exceptions. Those eyes had filled with heartbreak too many times this year, and it punched Simon in the gut every single time. He hoped never to see it again.

But even worse than heartbreak was the look on the other end of a shotgun pointed at his flesh and blood, or above the detritus of the worst birthday in history. Simon hated seeing the red haze of rage fill Wille – it frightened him to his core, because it reminded him too closely of things he would rather forget. 

Whispered, furtive, at night. Simon, just stay in my room tonight; maybe he won’t be as angry with both of us here.

Aghast, on cold autumn grass. Simme, I don’t like what that school is doing to you. You’re turning into someone else.

Weeping, breaking their hearts to save them. Wille, I don’t recognise you any more .

Now, Simon looked into Wille’s beloved brown eyes, and instead saw determination. Sorrow. Anxiety. Resolution. 

And love. Always, always love.

My name is Simon Eriksson, and I will love this boy until the day I die .

Wille turned back towards the camera. “Thank you for being honest. Can you now answer as my mother?”

Simon saw her swallow, and take a sip of water. When she looked up, her face seemed marginally lighter. 

“Of course. As your mother, I want what is best for you, now and always, and I think taking a step back next year is a good thing regardless of your future. And I’m glad that you told me your thoughts, and how you feel, and that you listened to me just now. I can see how much you have grown, in such a short time, and – and I am very proud of you.” Wille’s lips turned up slightly. Then they disappeared at her next words. “I will be honest with you: the compromise I suggested just now is also one that I, as your mother, would also favour. Seventeen is a young age to make such a life-changing decision, and one that cannot be taken back. Ever . So I would like you to take some time to think through your decision, and have all the information that you need before it is finalised.

“To ease you through any transitions, I will always be in favour of an environment that is as close as possible to the life you live now, and Ecole Chantecler is one such example, from a schooling, social, and security standpoint. However, if there are similar schools in Sweden that appeal to you, I see no reason that we cannot consider them, and which would allow you to continue to develop your friendships and relationships, private, secret, or otherwise.”

Wille nodded slowly. Simon flexed his right hand and slowly let the blood flow back into it. “So I can go to school in Sweden, Simon and I will be private but not secret, and I won’t have any royal duties until I’m 18 at the earliest, when we can make an announcement about my abdication.”

Kristina raised an eyebrow. “You will take a large step back from royal duties this year, but that doesn’t mean no appearances at all. Are you saying you don’t even want to be in our Christmas family photo?” 

“No! I mean yes. I mean, not really, but it’s fine I guess?” And holy shit, did the Queen of Sweden just smirk?

“I know what you mean gubben . Why don’t I speak to our team and draw up a reduced list of proposed engagements for you, and you let us know what you think?”

Wille exhaled. “Yeah, okay, that works. And mamma – I know you’re still hoping that I’ll change my mind when I’m 18, but I won’t. I really, really won’t. However, since I can’t make you believe me fully now, and since we won’t be saying anything for another year, I don’t suppose we need to keep arguing about it today. But the Kungahuset needs to begin planning now as if it’s happening, because it will.”

He was so, so fucking proud of Wille. That was some king shit right there. And yeah – it occurred to Simon that in a different universe, Wille would have been an excellent king. Not this one though.

Kristina regarded her son, then inclined her head. “All right. I’ll let them know. This will mean August’s duties will be stepped up immediately.” 

“Yes. I know.” 

“All right. Was there anything else?”

“No.” Simon kicked Wille’s foot. “No, wait! There was. I left it to last because it was kind of unrelated. But, um. Could we, you know, go on holiday this summer? Just you, me, and pappa ?”

Simon stifled a giggle at Kristina’s expression. “Are you…asking to go on a cruise, gubben ? Or go to Disneyland?”

“No! Since we’re on summer recess, and we’re all taking a step back, I just wanted to spend time with you both. As – as a family. Somewhere else.”

Simon watched Kristina’s face transform. And for the first time, he realised, Ah. She really does love her son.  

“That – that would be nice. Yes, what a lovely idea. We do have a standing invitation to visit Felipe in Mallorca, so – yes, that is an excellent suggestion. I’ll discuss it with your pappa and I’ll message you later.”

“Thank you mamma .” Wille gazed at his mother. “Thank you for your support.” 

“I’m happy to do so, älskling . I’m – I’m very glad we talked.”

“Me too.”

He reached out to sign off, but before he could click anything, she lifted her hand.

“Oh Wille! Before you go. You’re welcome to host any of your friends at Drottningholm when we get back. I’d like to meet them in a less official capacity.” Yup, she was definitely smirking. 

Wille rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Thank you mamma , I’ll think about it. Bye.”

And she cut the connection. 

Wille collapsed in his chair, as if his strings had been cut. “Oh my god.” 

Simon closed the computer, and stroked his boyfriend’s hand. “Wanna cuddle?”

“Please.”

They lay on the bed, Wille on Simon’s chest, limbs entwined. With each stroke of his hand on Wille’s back, he felt the tension dissipate. 

“So when she said visit Felipe in Mallorca, did she mean…”

“The King of Spain? Yes. Unfortunately.”

“Wille, your life is so fucking weird .”

“I know.”

“But I still love you.”

“I know.” He looked up at Simon. “I love you too.” 

Yeah, Simon knew. 

It was a good feeling.

Chapter Text

Simon and Wille came down for breakfast on the fifth day. 

“Eyyyyyyyyyy look who’s finally here!” 

Maddie came over and began poking their arms. “Is this really you? Are you alive? Or are your souls still upstairs while your bodies are being remote piloted by Martians? If so, blink twice if you need saving.”

Simon sighed deeply and made his way over to hug Sara. Wille sulked. 

“Sara! Can you look at Simon and tell us if it’s really him, or just some deeply realistic clone? Because I can’t think of another reason that he and Wille are actually here and not still upstairs.”

Sara kept slicing her banana. “It’s Simon. He’s fine. Simon, do you want muesli or bread?”

“Coffee. I want coffee. And then bread and toppings.”

“I’ll make it for you!”

“Wille, it’s really okay, I can do –”

“No! I want to. Please, let me.”

Maddie looked at Felice. “Is – is that a thing?”

Felice sighed, deeply aggrieved. “Apparently. Just – let them do their thing.” 

They sat down to breakfast and silence settled in, interrupted only by the occasional Can you pass the cheese? or More coffee? Sara continued reading. Felice scrolled through TikTok. Simon leaned into Wille’s shoulder. Wille nuzzled Simon’s hair. Maddie looked at them and gagged. 

They slowed down as their appetites were sated, and at that point Felice put her phone away. “We need supplies. Sara’s already been to the ICA once for basics, but we need to restock laundry detergent as well,” she eyed the boys balefully, who shrunk under her gaze, “so I was thinking we could go into Värmdö for a change of scenery, and we could hang around town for a bit if we wanted. There’s a beach, and we can get some ice cream, and there’s even a tiny mall with an H&M and a Willys.”

Wille’s head popped up. “They have a what?”

Three heads looked at him. “A…a Willys? You know, the grocery store?”

“There’s a grocery store in Sweden named after me?”

“Dude, I’m not from here, and even I know it’s not named after you.” 

“Wille”, and Simon looked staggered, “have you never been grocery shopping?”

“Um. No?”

Silence. Then, “Okay, we’re going. We’re abso-fucking-lutely going. Pack your bags, bitches – we’re going to the mall.”

Felice’s fingers started typing madly on her phone. “I’ll start a shopping list and share it with you all!”

“I’ll clean up.”

Simon nudged Wille. “We’ll go upstairs to get ready.”

Upstairs, the boys made their bed (read: threw some underwear in the laundry and pulled the coverlet up), then Simon began sorting through their belongings. “Wille, we need more shampoo. Can you add curly hair to the list?” 

“Just that? Why?”

“Because it’s short for curly hair shampoo, conditioner, mousse, and gel.”

Wille stopped typing on his phone. “You use all that?!”

“Baby. Please. You’ve been living with me for four days. What do you think I’m doing after we shower?” 

Simon turned to rifle through his drawer. His swimming shorts were wearing through the back, but probably still good for one more summer. When Wille hadn’t replied for a minute, he looked over. Wille was just staring at him. “Wille?”

“You, uh.” He cleared his throat. “Is baby now a thing?”

“Oh.” A flush slowly crept up Simon’s face. “It can be? If you want?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be nice. Just, maybe, not in public?”

“Oh. Oh .” Simon smirked. “Good to know.” He opened Wille’s wardrobe. “Do you need to, like, replace the cashmere T-shirts that you shrunk?”

“They’re not cashmere. I don’t think.” Simon rolled his eyes. “I can always just borrow yours if I run out.” 

“Wille, we need more than three T-shirts between the two of us.” 

Wille heaved a sigh. “Fine. I’ll add it to the list.” 

Simon came over and sat next to Wille, plopping his head on Wille’s shoulder. They sat in silence for a minute. Then:

“Simon. Do you remember yesterday? Before I talked to my mother?”

“Yes?”

“We were tidying our room?”

“Yeeeesssssss?”

“And we were talking about…supplies?” 

“Ye – oh.” And Simon sat up. 

He knew what everyone thought – that since November he and Wille had been shagging six ways from Sunday, every position on the planet, been there, done that, collected all the T-shirts. 

There was no denying that he and Wille had chemistry in spades, and intense, out-of-this-world desire for each other. That was part of what made their first break-up so tough, because the separation felt quite literally like it was killing them. (And also why he made a move on Marcus. Bad idea, in hindsight, but he wanted to forget, and he was horny. Sue him.)

But Wille had never been with a boy, before Simon. And Simon had only had a single furtive situationship consisting of half-hearted making out and perfunctory handjobs, before he went to Hillerska. All in all, not the most experienced couple on the planet. 

Whenever they came together this year, it had been intense and amazing and so, so fucking hot. But with their distance (both figurative and literal) and living situations, finding time to be together had been seriously limited. Also, when you’re in the middle of a tumultuous breakup and reconciliation and breakup and reconciliation and are-we-aren’t-we, it takes a lot of energy out of you, and doing anything more was a lot of…logistics.

The last few days have been incredible, and Simon loved it. They’d never had time , before. But now they could just breathe each other in, and not worry about making noise. (Not too much, anyway. Sorry girls.) And take the time to just learn each other’s scents and preferences and noises. There was a ticklish spot just outside Wille’s armpit that Simon now adored. And he learned that his neck was quite, quite sensitive. Who knew. 

Point was: they had not yet done anything requiring lube and condoms. They had an opportunity today to get supplies. But he didn’t know if they were ready. 

So he faced Wille directly. “Do you want to?”

Wille flushed. “I do, but…I have a lot of questions.”

Simon nodded. “So do I. I’ve done some research over the years, so I have some idea? But it still seems like – a lot, for the first time.”

“Yeah. We haven’t even really touched each other extensively, you know, there , yet, so I don’t even know how I’d go about the whole thing all the way , and then there’s also who’s doing what, and –”

“It’s a butt, Wille. Or hole. Or anus. Or –”

“Stop. Please stop.”

“You know what they say – if you can’t say it –”

“You shouldn’t do it!” They finished together.

They looked at each other, and burst out laughing. 

When their laughter had subsided, Wille spoke up. “Maybe we can get some lube today, and spend some time doing some research together? To start with? And then just see what we each like?”

“By research, do you mean actual research? Or do you mean porn? Because I’m still scarred from when I was fourteen and my mom walked in on me watching porn with – with anal sex, and she gave me a huge lecture on how it wasn’t real and didn’t even teach me the right stuff. And then her face was super red but she still made me discuss info from actual health websites right in front of her. And – yeah.” He shuddered.

By the end, Wille’s jaw was on the floor. Was it possible for a face to be simultaneously cherry red from embarrassment and white with fear? If so, enter exhibit A, Wille’s face.

“Wow. Just, wow. That’s extraordinary. I’m both extremely full of respect for Linda and also can never look her in the face again.”

“Seriously. Oh . And then , she called the school the next day and said their sex education was shit and wasn’t diverse enough.” 

“I changed my mind. Full respect and medal honours to Linda.” 

“Yeah, she’s great.”

“Well in any case, I meant we should do some actual research, not porn. And it sounds like you can help us get started because you know all the websites.” Wille elbowed him hard, and wiggled his eyebrows. 

Simon sighed. What a bastard. God, he loved him. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

After some beach time and ice cream, Sara drove them to the Värmdö Köpcentrum. They had parked and gotten out of the car when Felice thought of something. “Wille, how did you convince your mum to let you go out today, and be in public and stuff?”

Wille took Simon’s hand and gestured to his other side. “Malin and Joakim are here, and luckily they brought normal clothing with them, so they can keep an eye on me without standing out too much. And besides.” He and Simon exchanged glances. “We talked about it, and if someone takes photos of us and posts them, it’d be nice for us to look like just normal teenagers. Summer shopping, with friends. Right?”

“Absolutely.” She smacked Wille’s hand in a high five. “So how do you want to do this?”

“Hang on.” Simon pulled Wille aside and they had a frantic, whispered conversation. Felice fiddled with her hair. Sara rearranged the reusable bags. Maddie looked around for weird Swedish license plates. The boys came back. “Okay. So Wille and I are going first to H&M. Do you want to start at Willys, and then we’ll meet you there?” 

“Yeah, that works.” Sara made to move off, but Simon dragged her back. 

“We also have a favour to ask you.”

Simon and Wille looked at the girls. They looked back. Simon stared at his sister. She stared back. Then her eyes widened.

“No.”

“Sara please!”

“No.”

“We can’t get it ourselves!”

“No!”

“It’s the only way, because if we get it people will see him, and then all hell will break loose!” 

“I don’t care – no.”

Simon’s eyes grew abnormally large. 

“No?”

Wille’s eyes joined in. “Sara? Please?”

“Guys, what am I missing?”

Sara kept her eyes on her brother while she answered Felice. “They want us to buy lube and condoms for them.”

“NO.”

“Not both! Just the first one, and keep your fucking voice down!” 

“You should have asked us in private, and the answer is still no.”

“Sara, we promise it’s only the first one, not the second. We’ll text you the exact brand and type and it’ll be super easy.” Huh, turned out Simon could also be really whiny. Was he picking it up from Wille, Felice wondered. If so, not a good look. “You could probably even just grab it from the aisle, and you don’t even have to ask someone or go to the apoteket . Please?” 

“Yeah sure.” Sara and Felice turned to Maddie, betrayed. “What? I can do it, it’s fine. I’ll get it alone at the pharmacy  before we go to Willys. Besides,” she gestured at their puppy eyes, “look at them. You’re telling me you wouldn’t have caved sooner or later?” 

Wille threw his arms around her. “Thank you!”

“Keep your hands to yourself, princeling. I don’t want the front page of Aftonbladet tomorrow saying we’re having an affair right in front of Simon.”

“Ew.”

“Precisely.”

“Okay, we’ll text you when we finish at H&M thank you byeeeee!” And Simon dragged Wille off.

Half an hour later, the boys rejoined the girls at Willys. Felice was picking through some apples when they popped up beside her. “That was faster than I’d expected. What’d you get?” 

“Some T-shirts for Wille, and he got me some swimming shorts as an early birthday gift. Look! Pink!” Simon grinned and pecked Wille on the cheek. Wille blushed. 

“Awww cute. Was that your first time at H&M Wille?”

“I had to cut a ribbon at a shopping centre once. Does that count?”

Simon thumped his head against Wille’s shoulder while Felice shook her head. “No boo. No, it does not. Did you like it?”

“He didn’t like the changerooms because he said they were dirty.”

“They were dirty.”

Simon’s eyes goggled. “You put your shoes on your pillow .” 

“That’s different – it’s my stuff.”

“Well, this is what a normal changeroom is like, and if you didn’t like it you could have just tried it on in the store.”  

“That’s weird! I can’t just strip in the middle of H&M!”

“How is that different from being on the beach?! And if you’re uncomfortable, that’s why there are changerooms !”

“Wille, why didn’t you just put it on over the shirt you’re wearing?” They both looked at Felice. “Did that not occur to you two?” They shook their heads. Felice rolled her eyes.

“Here, put your shopping bag in the cart. Maddie and Sara are getting dairy stuff. Oh! We were thinking we could make pizzas tonight! Is that okay?” 

“That would be fun. I’ve only ever had it in the Bjärstad pizzeria, although maybe I’ll learn this summer. Do you know how to make it Felice?”

“I haven’t done it fully from scratch. But stores sometimes have pre-made doughs, either fresh or frozen, and then we can put our own toppings on, and we can also make our own pizzasallad ! It’ll be just like takeout. What kind of pizza do you guys like?”

“Africana.”

“Anything but Africana.”

Simon and Wille spoke simultaneously, then stared at each other, appalled. Then Simon broke first.

“Are you serious?”

“Are you being un serious?”

“When did you even have the opportunity to try it?”

“We have takeout! At the palace!”

“So then what’s wrong with it?!”

“Everything’s wrong with it! You might as well throw nutella onto it and you’ll have pizza dessert!”

“It’s complex! Every bite is a new discovery!”

Out of the corner of her eye Felice saw someone filming them. Great. Saved her from doing it, because this shit was hysterical.

“We are not – absolutely not – having Africana pizza tonight, or ever, or so help me I will actually break up with you.” Wille moved closer to Simon. 

“I will spend the rest of my life convincing you that it’s amazing.”

“Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?” 

They were now standing toe to toe and whispering. Okay, time to intervene. Felice flicked their ears. Hard. 

“Keep it in your pants until we get home.” Maddie and Sara approached the shopping cart, laden with goods. “Girls, we’re having pizza tonight and we’ll need three doughs. Simon can have half of one for his monstrosity –” the motherfucker actually beamed “– and the rest of us can make our own. Cool?”

“What monstrosity? There’s a pizza monstrosity in Sweden?” 

Simon’s eyes lit up like beacons. Like awful curry-flavoured banana beacons. “Maddie! It’s the best –”

“– the WORST !” Wille and Sara interjected.

“– the BEST pizza in Sweden! It’s called the Africana and we are absolutely making it tonight.” 

“I’m already triggered by the name. What’s on it?”

Felice sighed. “Bananas, pineapples, onions, curry powder, ham, topped with peanuts.” Wille and Sara gagged. Simon danced in place.

Maddie looked thoughtful. “Sooooo…it’s a Hawaiian pizza, with different flavouring, more fruit, and extra crunch?” 

“Yes!”

Maddie shrugged. “I’m down to try. Make it a full Africana pizza.”

“YES!” 

Felice rubbed her forehead. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

Dinner that night was great, if Felice said so herself. Malin and Joakim took a few slices back to the cabin they were sharing, and the rest were demolished by the gang. They also introduced Maddie to pizzasallad , on and off pizzas, and she horked it down like everything else. Felice was beginning to think Maddie was a true global nomad – or maybe just a trash receptacle in human form. Either way, full respect to her.

They were winding down when Wille spoke. “I spoke to my mother yesterday about school next year.” 

Felice grimaced. “Too soon, too soon!” 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring down the mood. I was just wondering – do you all know what you’re doing?”

Simon and Sara looked at each other. “We haven’t talked about it with our mom, but we’re probably staying in Bjärstad and going back to Marieberg.”

“She was talking about moving to Göteborg, when it got really bad a few weeks ago,” Wille winced as Simon spoke, “and we have family there. But I think she’ll see that it’s better for us to stay together and have Rosh and Ayub. And I don’t want to be so far from Stockholm.” Simon rested a hand on Wille’s thigh. 

“Aren’t you worried about people stalking you?” Maddie asked.

“We are. But that will happen no matter where I go, at this point,” Simon seemed resigned to it, “so we’ll probably end up moving within Bjärstad, and keep the location secret for as long as possible. Don’t know how that’s possible, but we’ll try.”

“Wille, can the Palace help with that?” 

Wille looked at Sara, then smacked his forehead. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that earlier – of course I’ll ask!”

She nodded. “Thank you.” Simon turned, and pressed his lips to the crown of his cheek. “Thank you, Wille.”

Wille rubbed his nose against Simon’s. Awww. Felice got them back on track. “Okay, that’s you two decided. What are us three doing?” 

“Maddie, are you going back to New York?” 

“I suppose. I only went to Hillerska because my mom’s friend’s sister’s neighbour or something like that went there, and look how that turned out. I don’t mind staying in Sweden, but I don’t want to make a fresh start for the third time in three years; I’d rather go back to New York than start a new school here alone. Felice? Have you talked to your parents yet?”

Felice grimaced. “My parents are still freaking out about Hillerska closing down, and it’s kind of ridiculous because I can see a tiny part of my dad is like Good fucking riddance , but he’s not saying that in front of my mom, who’s like Fredrika and Stella and crying all the time. She wants to send me to another school similar to Hillerska, but I actually think if she sent me to Freiburg pappa would put his foot down.” 

Simon sat up. “Is that the school where they actually whipped two boys?”

“Yeah, it’s not great.” 

They all shuddered. 

“So let me get this straight. Maddie is open to staying in Sweden. Felice, you can go anywhere, but you’re based in Stockholm.” They looked inquiringly at Wille. “And I live in Stockholm, and just told my mom I want to stay in Sweden, and not go abroad.”

“Oh my god oh my god I know what you’re saying – you’re like an actual Disney prince but with brains!” 

“Oh my god I’ve thought that too!”

Simon smirked. “Me too.”

Sara raised her hand. “Minus the brains part.”

“Hey!” 

Maddie flapped her hand at Wille. “Wille, are you saying – we should all just find a school, in Stockholm, pitch it to our parents, and go there together? Is that what you’re saying Wille?”

Wille grinned. “Shall we?” 

_____________________________________________________________________________

The next morning, they were all at breakfast when Felice shrieked. She looked at her phone more closely, then dropped her bread on her plate as she began laughing. 

“Uh. Felice? What’s going on?”

She gestured wordlessly as tears streamed down her face.  

“Felice? Felice! What happened?”

She turned her phone to the group.

Aftonbladet exclusive: Nation divided after video of Africana argument

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