Who Made You a Princess?

by Shelley Adina

  Kaz bent to the fire and ran a stick through the coals, separating them. “Just let me put this out. Lissa, where’s the bucket?”

  “Here.” While I’d been obsessing over Danyel, Lissa had run down to the waterline and filled a gallon pail. You could tell they’d done this about a million times. She poured the water on the fire and it blew a cloud of steam into the air. The orange coals gave it up with a hiss.

  I looked up to say something to Danyel about it and saw that he was already fifty feet away, board under his arm like it weighed nothing, heading down the beach to the public lot where he usually parked his Jeep.

  I stared down into the coals, wet and dying.

  I couldn’t let the night go out like this.

  “Danyel, wait!” The sand polished the soles of my bare feet better than the pumice bar at the salon as I ran to catch up with him. A fast glance behind me told me Lissa had stepped up and begun talking to Kaz, giving me a few seconds alone.

  I owed her, big time.

  “What’s up, ma?” He planted the board and set the guitar case down. “Forget something?”

  “Yes,” I blurted. “I forgot to tell you that I think you’re amazing.”

  He blinked. “Whoa.” The barest hint of a smile tickled the corners of his lips.

  I might not get another chance as good as this one. I rushed on, the words crowding my mouth in their hurry to get out. “I know there’s something going on here and we’re all leaving on Tuesday and I need to know if you—if you feel the same way.”

  “About…?”

  “About me. As I feel about you.”

  He put both hands on his hips and gazed down at the sand. “Oh.”

  Cold engulfed me, as if I’d just plunged face-first into the dark waves twenty feet away. “Oh,” I echoed. “Never mind. I guess I got it wrong.” I stepped back. “Forget about it. No harm done.”

  “No, Shani, wait—”

  But I didn’t want to hear the “we can still be friends” speech. I didn’t want to hear anything except the wind in my ears as I ran back to the safety of my friends.

  KazG It didn’t work.

  Dijon Yo, Cyrano. You don’t know that.

  KazG I know her. And it went right over her head. I can’t believe you told everyone I IM’d the lyrics to you.

  Dijon They thought I was kidding, man.

  KazG Shani knows something. Check out all those questions.

  Dijon She was just making conversation.

  KazG What do I do now?

  Dijon I dunno. But your stand-in is off duty as of now. I’m sending Lissa a video to share with them. Want to go in on it with me?

  KazG Nah, I’ve gotta regroup. But Lissa will freak when she sees it.

  Dijon She’s funny when she freaks. In a good way.

  Delivered by Hand

  September 21, 2009

  His Serene Highness Sheikh Amir al-Aarez

  Kingdom of Yasir

  Office of the Private Secretary

  Dr. Natalie Curzon, Principal

  Spencer Academy

  2600 Washington Street

  San Francisco, California 94111

  Dr. Curzon, greetings.

  I am pleased to inform you that final security checks of the Spencer Academy campus have been completed. As outlined by our office earlier this summer, this letter will confirm His Serene Highness’s requirements for the accommodation of his beloved son, Prince Rashid al Amir.

  It is not acceptable that the heir to the Lion Throne should stay in anything other than a private room. Therefore, Mr. Travis Fanshaw must be removed to another room.

  In view of the regrettable incident involving Lady Lindsay MacPhail of the United Kingdom last May, the Prince’s personal security force will number not one agent, but two. One agent will be accommodated within the Prince’s room itself. The other will sleep in an adjoining room. I trust the students will appreciate the privilege of supporting the safety of the heir and will not be too greatly discommoded.

  If the Prince prefers not to take his lessons with the other students, male tutors will be provided for him.

  The Prince will not under any circumstances disrobe in the presence of others. Therefore his participation in physical education classes will be limited to those that do not require a uniform or special clothing. Should it be his wish to participate, he will require private shower and toilet facilities.

  The Prince’s focus shall be on his studies. Please do your utmost to encourage him in academic endeavors, keeping always in mind that you are assisting in the education of a future king.

  I am sure that Spencer Academy, its faculty, and its students are cognizant of the honor done their institution. I trust His Highness will enjoy a happy and productive term.

  With very best wishes for your health, I remain,

  Farshad Ma’mun

  Farshad Ma’mun, MBA, Ph.D.

  Private Secretary to His Serene Highness

  The Sheikh of Yasir

  Chapter 2

  NO WAY WAS I going by my single self to the early service at Lissa’s church. One, I’d never hear the end of it, and two, I wasn’t about to sit all by my little lonesome among the old folks, gawking hopelessly at Danyel and forgetting to sing.

  So, I went with my girls at eleven and gawked and forgot to sing.

  Honestly, who can sing when a man so fine is up there on that stage, his hair tied back so it makes a puff at the nape of his neck, wearing a white shirt that totally pops against his mocha skin? And don’t get me started on his hands, moving on the neck of the guitar, pulling praise out of the strings with those long fingers.

  Did I happen to mention that I go to church ninety percent to make my friends happy and ten percent for me? Maybe I’m hoping to get answers, even though I don’t even know how to ask the questions. And maybe I like looking at the scenery. But before you go all squinty-eyed and write me off as a bobblehead, I know how to show respect. But it’s hard to get into it the way Lissa and Gillian do, when the Lord hasn’t paid much attention to me for the last, oh, seventeen years. I guess I go with them to see if He’ll talk to me the way He seems to do for them.

  Anyway, the sermon gave me some time to think. Specifically, about last night. No, not the Danyel part. The part that came later, when we girls were getting ready for bed.

  After Carly and I had said good night to Lissa and her dad, and Carly had made her nightly call to her boyfriend, Brett—during which I sat out of earshot on the patio and admired the moonlight reflected in the swimming pool—she’d joined me.

  “I miss him so much,” she said as she slid into the lounge chair next to mine.

  “I don’t know how. You talk, like, five times a day, and send pictures and texts. It’s the next best thing to being there.”

  “I’m not there, though.” She sighed. “And it’s hard to send a hug over e-mail.”

  “Cheer up. Only two more days and you’re back in paradise.”

  “Easy for you, chiquita.” She glanced sideways at me. “You’re in paradise right now.”

  “You got that right.” I slid down further on the lounger. “I’m seriously thinking of sleeping out here.”

  “There are bugs,” she reminded me. “And you know that isn’t what I meant.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I know you’re crushing on Danyel.”

  I scrambled up to a sitting position so I could stare at her. “How do you know that? Who told you? Did he say something?”

  She shook her head at me, grinning. “Somebody goose you?”

  “Don’t mess me around, Carly. He didn’t tell you that, did he?”

  “Relax.” She waved a lazy hand at me and I settled down. A little. “I was just watching you, is all. You think you’re such a poker face and you’re totally not. Every time I turn around, you’re talking to him.”

  “Fat lot of good it does me.” I slid down low on my spine. “He just wants to be friends. Him and Kaz, they’re probably laughing at me ri
ght now.”

  “Why would they laugh?” Lissa padded up behind us, pulled the hems of her cotton pj bottoms over her knees, and sat on the edge of the pool to dunk her feet in the water. “They’re our friends. Nobody’s laughing.”

  “How do you know?” I demanded. “I made a big old fool of myself tonight.”

  She gave me a look over the tops of her skinny glasses. She must have taken her contacts out already. “I’ve got eyes. Four of ’em. Those two aren’t like that. And what do you mean, a fool of yourself?”

  “Oh, I just let him know I was crazed over him.” Listen to me. A month at the beach and I’m starting to talk like the surfers. “But he just wants to be friends.”

  “Oh, man.” Lissa reached up and touched my foot in sympathy. “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure. I told him I thought there could be something between us and he was all, ‘Oh.’ Like I told him I had some contagious disease.”

  “Maybe you misunderstood,” Carly said. “What happened then?”

  “Nothing. I took off.”

  “Well, there you go.” Carly shook her head at me. “You don’t know for sure. You can still change his mind. Get him to see you differently.”

  “Listen to her.” Lissa nodded toward Carly. “She’s our resident expert in getting a guy’s attention.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have any exploding buildings or stalkers handy,” I said. “All I’ve got is me, and that ain’t workin’ out so far.”

  “That’s all I had,” Carly said. “Brett told me he noticed me a long time before the whole stalker thing with Mac. Before that party we went to at Callum’s, even. Besides, a guy doesn’t want to be with you because you’re accessorized with exploding buildings. It’ll be because you’re cute and wear a mean stiletto and have a laugh that won’t quit.”

  My friend. This is one of the reasons I love her to pieces.

  “From your lips to his ears,” I said.

  But on Monday, as we all talked and laughed through a barbecue on the patio, where Danyel and Kaz tried to cook this massive fish Kaz’s dad had caught out on the bay, and Lissa’s mom arrived from L.A. at the last minute to save them, all I could think of was the distance I was about to put between me and him. And on Tuesday, when we all piled our luggage into the Mercedes GL450 and strapped Lissa’s surfboard to the roof rack, I realized that the whole thing was hopeless.

  Only one good thing happened. Danyel and Kaz stood in the driveway, shaded by big oak trees, when Lissa started the hugfest. She’s known these guys most of her life, so she’s allowed to hug them, but then Carly got into the act. She hugs puppies in the pet store, and random children, so this didn’t surprise anyone. Still, I’m no dummy—I grabbed the opportunity before it got away. If those two could hug Danyel and Kaz with impunity, I was gonna jump right in.

  And oh, my, I could just feel my dream coming true as Danyel hesitated for just the barest second before his arms went around me and mine slid around his back. I sort of flattened my bad self against his chest—only for a moment—and enjoyed it right to the max. He smelled soooooo good. I think he dropped a kiss on my hair but I’m not sure, because he sort of handed me off to Kaz and turned to hug Ms. Sutter, aka Lissa’s mom, who was going with their driver, Bruno, in the sedan with yet more of our luggage in it.

  But I’d had my moment. Maybe it didn’t mean a thing to him other than “see ya, ’bye,” but it was something.

  And it made the moment I’d dreaded, where we pulled out calling “’Byeeee,” a little more bearable.

  DORM, SWEET DORM. I don’t know about the other girls, but Spencer Academy feels more like home than my mom and dad’s house. Even the smell of it—furniture polish, running shoes, and freshly cut grass—is kind of comforting. It doesn’t change. It’s always there to greet you when you come back, even when you’ve been gone for months.

  I’d taken it for granted I’d be in the same room as last year, so I got a jolt when we went to Admin to get our keys and found a herd of confused, arguing boys ahead of us.

  “I don’t get it,” a guy called Michael, who’d been in my English class last year, said. He’d shaved his spiky neo-Mohawk off and was sporting a buzz cut. “You’re telling me this Rashid kid gets two rooms? What’s up with that?”

  “You have nothing to complain about, Mr. Stockton,” the clerk snapped. How many times had she answered that question today? “It doesn’t affect you.”

  “It does so. I want to room with Dashiel Geary, like last year.”

  “I’m afraid all the arrangements in the boys’ dorms have been shuffled since last year.”

  “Because of this bozo and his two rooms?” Michael threw out his arms and looked around for some support. “What about Travis? What’s he going to do?”

  “That’s none of your business. Now, here is your key. I hope you and Mr. Stapleton will enjoy your year.”

  “I’m not rooming with that cheating pothead!” Michael shouted, but he got elbowed out of the way by the crowd behind him.

  When we finally got to the counter, the clerk was grim and perspiring. “Name?”

  “Mansfield,” Lissa said.

  She slapped a key into Lissa’s hand. “You’re with Chang, same as last year.”

  “That’s a relief,” Lissa murmured as she slid to the side to make room for me.

  “Name?”

  “Hanna.”

  She must have thought I said “Scalpel!” because she slapped the key into my palm as if it was one. “You’re with Aragon.”

  “I am?” Happiness did a little spiral in my chest.

  “Don’t give me any static,” the woman said. “Aragon!”

  “Right here. Thanks. Ms. Webster, what about Lindsay MacPhail? She was my roommate last year.”

  “The exchange student? She’s not on the roster. Why would she be? The exchange was only for a term.”

  “Just asking.” Carly glanced at me as the three of us left the office and collected our bags outside in the corridor. “I guess she couldn’t talk her parents into letting her come, after all.”

  “We’ll still see her. She has to come.” Lissa hefted her ginormous duffel and left the surfboard in the vestibule for the next trip. “David Nelson’s trial is set for October. Don’t both of you have to testify?”

  Carly nodded, her eyes pinching at the corners the way they do when she’s worried. “Don’t remind me. I’m not looking forward to it.”

  “Don’t think about that now,” I said. “We’re roomies. We’re seniors. There’s crème brulée for dessert. Life is good.”

  “You’re right.” Carly shot me a smile as we climbed the stairs. “I feel older and smarter already.”

  “I am smarter,” Lissa put in. “I’m taking bonehead chemistry this term and totally skating through everything else.”

  “Skating?” I waited for them on the second-floor landing. “Aren’t you taking honors classes?”

  “Well, yeah. English and Spanish. Oh, and I’m doing a capstone project in English. That’s still skating.”

  “And you have to write the essay for the Hearst Prize,” a new voice called, quick footsteps slapping on the stairs behind us. “That’s more like a triple Axel.”

  “Gillian!”

  We dumped our stuff all over the stairs and stampeded to meet her. Our whoops and greetings echoed in the dignified Edwardian reception hall, but none of us gave a rip. Ms. Tobin, our dorm mistress and the only person in school who cared about noise demerits, wasn’t on duty until tomorrow.

  “When did you get here? Why didn’t you call me?” Lissa demanded, grabbing her around the waist and hugging her.

  “Just now. I heard you guys yakking it up on the stairs when I came in at the front. I haven’t even got my key.”

  “I’ve got mine. We’re sharing together this year, too.”

  “Woo-hoo!” Gillian’s bear hug practically knocked the air out of my lungs before she let me go. “I’m glad to see you, girlfriend. Nai-Nai sends he
r love, not to mention a box of pork buns. She’s going to overnight them.”

  My stomach growled in appreciation. “I love that woman.”

  Gillian hugged Carly and then checked her out. “You did something to your hair.”

  Carly shook her head. “Nope. It was a week on the beach at Lissa’s. I got natural high-lights.”

  “She’s in looooooove,” I said. “It’s that contented glow.”

  “Shut up,” Carly said with affection, and bumped me with one hip.

  “So where is the man?” Gillian looked around as if Brett would materialize out of the air. “I can’t believe he isn’t here to welcome you back.”

  Lissa heaved her bag onto her shoulder and gazed down the corridor toward her and Gillian’s room as if it were a mile long. With that duffel, it would probably feel like it. “After fifty-seven text messages and a mile-by-mile replay all the way up the coast, there’s nothing left to say.”

  “Just one thing.” Carly picked up her own bags, and she and I prepared to hike up one more floor. “I have to tell him whether I’m coming for dinner at his house tonight.”

  “Like that needs an answer?” Gillian said with faux amazement.

  “I wanted to see if you guys were doing anything first.” Carly’s tone was soft, almost shy. “After all, I didn’t get to see much of you this summer.”

  I could have hugged her. In fact, I dropped my bag and did. “You are the best friend ever.” Color flooded her cheeks.

  “And the answer is, of course you should have dinner with Brett,” Gillian told her. “You haven’t seen him in what, a couple of weeks?”

  Carly nodded.

  “I know how I’d feel,” Lissa put in.

  “You’d dump us like a bunch of hot potstickers.” Gillian grinned at her.

  “Hey! I would not.”

  But all of us knew that she had, back when she’d dated what some people considered the hottest guy in school, Callum McCloud. And Gillian was a case of the potsticker calling the kettle black, because she’d done the same thing with Lucas Hayes.

  But in my opinion, both of them would think twice now about ditching their girlfriends when a guy said, “Jump.” They’d learned the hard way: Guys might come and guys might go, but your girlfriends are forever.