Across the Pond (Prince Harry #2)

Chapter Seventeen

When Thursday morning hit, Meredith threw the covers off and went to the bathroom. Apparently her residents had gone crazy last night seeing that two out of the seven toilets were filled with vomit. Upon coming back to her room, something crunched under her foot. Bending down, Meredith picked up the handwritten note: another death threat.

I told you to stop. You'll pay with your life, it said.

"Oh, I'm so scared." Meredith rolled her eyes and put it on her desk. Moving about her room, she turned on the television, leaving the news to play in her room. She started getting ready for her day. It was another day without contacts because of her eye. She did her best to cover up every other blemish. After dressing for success, Meredith sat down in front of the television with her breakfast of mac and cheese.

The news anchor stated, "In other headlines, Meredith Rogue, rumored girlfriend of Prince Harry, was recently injured as another student at the University of Wisconsin- Superior assaulted her." A picture was pulled up of Meredith, and it was a nice picture of her, not a recent picture with her black eye. On major newspaper, the headline said Meredith Rouge Assaulted Tuesday Night. "She is fine. However, with her recent article, she is getting a lot of backlash. In other news," the news anchor moved on.

Did no one notice? Meredith wondered.

When it came time for class, Meredith walked outside and the paparazzi stayed back, taking pictures. Screams filled the air as they all suddenly had something to say. Whatever the voices said, Meredith couldn't make much of it out. She knew there was something being said that was rude, only because she heard the word whore. Meredith kept an even smile on her face anyway. There were a few more people here than before, and she could only think about the recent attention brought to her.

Meredith stepped next to the paparazzi. "What's my name?" she asked.

"You don't know your own name," a paparazzo sassed.

Meredith tilted her head. "My name is Meredith Rogue, not Rouge as in Moulin Rouge. R-O-G-U-E. Next time you may want to spell it correctly." Meredith walked to class.

Political Science 175 was dedicated to the speaking about refugees, a topic Meredith was very passionate about. It was hard to argue about not allowing refugees into the country when there were arguments about "If you think a fetus is a human but refugee children aren't, it's not a religious concept" or "On average, nine Americans are killed every year by a terrorist, whereas on average 12,843 Americans are killed by guns every year and on average 37,000 Americans are killed in traffic accidents every year." This was all according to CNN who had real facts, not alternative facts or fake news. But other news sources could easily be used to prove the point.

Meredith headed back to her dorm, and she kept a careful watch on the paparazzi. More yells came from them. She tried to focus on what they said, but in many ways, she was focused on other things. She had a death threat waiting back in her room, and she would have to call Campus Safety again and she would have to tell Harry again.

Walking over to her desk, Meredith knew her desk was dirty but the note was gone. She pushed textbooks and notebooks out of the way, yet nothing was there. Getting down on her knees, she checked under the desk. With two fans constantly going in her room, there was a chance it was blown away. Standing back up, Meredith brushed herself off, giving up.

Sitting down at her desk, she pulled open her laptop and thought about her article for the week. There was no way she was bowing down to any sort of criticism or hate from anyone, but as for now, she had nothing to say about anyone. However, she did have something to say about refugees and how they should be allowed into the country. Also, the United States of America's First Amendment of the Constitution allows for freedom of religion, so there wasn't much that anyone could do about it. Writing about that, Meredith settled back, proud of what she wrote.