“It is his duty. Seven o’clock?”
“Meet you in the lobby.”
“I look forward to it as I would the dawn.”
I hung up before I started to babble. No one had ever told me that before. I wasn’t even sure why I’d agreed to go out with him, except that I had silky legs and brand-new toes and both of them were ready to party.
Shaking my head at my bad self, I scrolled to Danyel’s message and hit Send.
“Hey, Shani, thanks for calling me back.” If Rashid’s voice was like midnight and scratchy stars, Danyel’s was smooth dark chocolate. A singer’s voice. Yum.
“No problem. We were out giving Lissa some group therapy over a pedicure.”
“Oh, man. Bless you for that. Is she okay?”
“She’s pretty cut up. I would be, too. She’s in problem-solving mode. She doesn’t get that she’s not the one who can solve the problem.”
“I know. Kaz and Gillian have been tag-teaming her.”
“At least between Carly and Mac we’ve got lots of experience in breakups of the parental kind. So they’ve been trying to help, too.”
“She really lucked out with you guys. I have to say, I didn’t want her to go to that school. I thought it would mess with her head. But meeting you and the others must’ve been a God thing.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to have a supporting role in the Big Guy’s plans, ’cuz then it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to have Him notice me for real. I was still learning about the effect He had on people—I wasn’t sure I was ready for His effect on me.
“I’m glad they’re my friends, too.” I paused long enough so he’d know I was changing channels. “So, what’s new with you?”
“Well…guess where I am right now?”
“Um, let’s see. Probably sitting on the beach with your board stuck in the sand, looking out over the waves and wondering if there’s time to get in one more before you call it a day.”
“Try again.”
“You and Kaz are four-wheeling somewhere and the beauty of nature made you think of me.”
“Nope.”
No looking forward to the dawn for this guy. “I give up.”
“I’m at my sister’s apartment in Daly City. Got any plans tonight?”
My mouth dropped open. Danyel was at this moment seven stops away on BART. He was in town for the weekend. He was asking me out.
And I’d just agreed to go to a concert with the prince.
I clutched my forehead with my free hand. Give the girl a love life and what does she do with it?
Gets it totally twisted.
Chapter 9
WHY HADN’T I answered their messages in the opposite order? It wasn’t like I could call Rashid back and say, “Oops, forgot I had to wash my hair.” Stuff like that sparks international incidents where ambassadors have to be called in to mediate.
Danyel cleared his throat. “Shani? You there?”
“I’m here. Just having a moment, is all.”
“Did you get my e-mail?”
“Uh-huh. I got all of them.”
“So this isn’t a total surprise.”
“Your being in town sure is.”
He chuckled. “I thought it might be. But the rest…I mean, after what you said to me on the beach, I figured I was pretty safe in asking.”
“The thing is—I mean, I wish I didn’t, but I already have plans.”
He took a second to absorb this. “Oh. Well, yeah, I’m sure you do. It is kind of last minute. But I thought, um…”
The last thing I wanted was to embarrass him. “What about tomorrow? I usually to go out to Marin with Lissa and my girls, but something tells me she’s going to want to go to the Ranch and have her dad to herself. I bet she cuts us loose over breakfast.”
“I’ma go to church with my sister and her family, and then I gotta hit the road back to S.B.”
No way could he come all this way and not see me. That was just wrong. “I could meet you for breakfast, maybe.”
“Why don’t you come to Sol and Malika’s? I’d like them to meet you. Then you could come to church with us.” I hesitated, and he picked up on it right away. “Or not, if the church thing makes you uncomfortable.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I go to church with Lissa and them, no problem.”
“So I’m still waiting for an answer on that.”
“What?” But I already knew. I was just stalling for time, trying to figure out what to say.
“About whether you’re a believer or not.”
“How come it matters so much to you? I mean, I thought we had it goin’ on when we were all at Lissa’s.”
“Yeah, we did, but for me there has to be more to it than that.”
“Like what?”
“Can we have this conversation in person? Like, tomorrow? Because I think it’s important and I want to be with you when we talk.”
I homed in on I want to be with you. Now, that’s what I was talking about. “Okay. What’s the address? I’ll catch a cab.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“In the morning?” I was gonna be so wrecked, getting up that early after seeing Kenny Wayne Shepherd.
He hesitated for a second, then laughed. “Uh, yeah. Breakfast usually does involve morning. Malika says we leave for church at ten thirty.”
“Okay, eight it is. See you then.”
I disconnected and tucked my phone in my Bottega bag. Then I watched the sun slip behind the Spanish tiles of the roof of the classroom wing opposite.
Dates with two guys in twenty-four hours. Who’d have thought?
* * *
To:[email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date:October 3, 2009
Re:London calling
Hi Baby,
We’re still here while Daddy does business. I went to the V&A myself just for fun to see the exhibit on royal wedding dresses. Haven’t been there in years.
Speaking of royals, I caught a certain little article on a certain Web site featuring my own girl on the arm of a certain royal someone! I’m glad you’re getting to know the prince. You better dish me the details because I sure don’t want to find out from People.com.
Love, Mama
* * *
“I HEAR WE’RE sort of related.”
In the fifteen-minute break between Kenny Wayne’s sets, we’d slipped out of the theater and snagged a Coke in a frosty glass for me and an iced tea for the prince. Well, Bashir had snagged them. All we had to do was appear at the door and have them presented to us. A girl could really get used to this. Not that it means anything. I’m just sayin’.
“I think not.”
“True. My mom says my great-grandma married one of your uncles. What does that make us, fifth cousins twice removed?”
He smiled into my eyes. “It makes us a man and a woman who are simply having fun together. As I told you, our families have been connected for centuries.” He glanced over his shoulder into the theater. “I like this Kenny Wayne Shepherd. He is very talented.”
“And so are you. At avoiding the subject.”
He took a sip of his drink. Around us, the lobby was full of people gabbing and laughing, dressed in everything from ripped jeans to silk. Me, I’d picked jeans too—my Citizens of Humanity black ones with my fierce red Dolce stilettos. Top that with a Max Azria chiffon blouse over a black lace tank and I was hot, in my oh-so-humble opinion.
And Rashid? He’d come to a blues concert in a double-breasted pinstriped suit with a collarless black silk shirt. I mean, not that I care or anything, but the man looked fine. We were collecting the looks like tickets at the door.
“I am not avoiding the subject. I would not be so rude. But I don’t wish you to think of me as family. That would—how do I put it—spoil the fun.”
“Believe me, sunshine, family isn’t what I think of when I think of you.”
“You think of me?”
I took a s
tep back. “You’re hard to avoid. And with Farrouk and Bashir, it’s like there are three of you. If I don’t see you, I see them, running around for you.”
“It is their duty.”
“So you keep saying. Don’t they ever get a day off?”
“Yes. Alternate weekends, with a day during the week. But I do not wish to talk about them. I wish to talk about us.”
I eyed him over the rim of my glass. “There’s an ‘us’”
He smiled, and I swear knees melted all over the lobby. But not mine. Definitely not mine, nuh-uh.
“I would like to think so.”
I stuck out a hip. “What are you getting at, Rashid?”
“I have been talking with Brett Loyola. We’ve become friends, I think.”
I resisted the urge to make a joke about the us being him and Brett. I had a feeling he wouldn’t take too kindly to a poke at his manliness, even from me. “Okay. What do you talk about?”
“Sports, classes. I am to try out for the rowing team. But also girls.” He held up a finger. “Correction. One girl. You.”
I had to laugh. “Rashid, don’t talk about me, just talk to me. Cut out the middleman.”
“Sometimes you are not the easiest to talk to. And I am—” He hesitated. “It is very important that I get the words right.”
“What words?” As though someone had called time, people began to surge back into the theater. I pulled Rashid to the side. “Just spit them out, Rashid.”
“The show will be starting in a moment.”
“Never mind. I want to hear what you have to say.”
He took a breath, as if to settle himself. “Very well. I wish—I want—that is, if you would like it, I—uh—”
Wow. It probably took a lot to rattle a prince so much he lost his words. What did he have to tell me that could be that important? All I wanted was a little conversation, you know? Not state secrets or anything.
He looked me in the eye and blurted, “I would like us to go out.”
I blinked. “We are out. Do you want to leave?”
“No, no. Brett says this is how you say it. To hook up. To be boyfriend and girlfriend. Go out.”
Behind the door, Kenny Wayne blasted into a cover of “Scuttlebuttin’” while I goggled at Rashid.
“Go out? Like, be a couple? You and me?”
“Yes.” He smiled and rocked back on his heels, like he was happy I’d finally gotten it.
“Well, I, uh…” Oh, help. This wasn’t what I’d planned at all. How was I supposed to get to know Danyel if I were the official consort of the prince? How would I sneak off to call Danyel with Farrouk and Bashir on hand at every moment, listening in?
And, most important, how was I going to explain to Rashid that I was having breakfast with someone else in—I glanced at my watch with its pretty little diamond where the twelve should be—nine hours and forty-five minutes?
“Um, Rashid, I really—this is so sudden.”
That was the best I could do? Call up a line from a forties B-movie? Where was my gold-plated education when I needed it? Etiquette module, hello? Need help, here.
Behind him, Bashir held open the door. Blistering notes, almost too fast to hear, roared out into the lobby and I jumped. Farrouk took our glasses.
“It is a surprise, I know,” Rashid said. He took my hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. So old school. His soft sleeve was hot from his body temperature. He was overheated. Stressed. As nervous about asking as I was about answering.
My shaky self-confidence staggered and stood up. “It is, but that’s not a bad thing. Let’s take it one day at a time, okay? I like you a lot, but I’m not into formal, especially with someone I used to make sandcastles with.”
The smile was back. “As you say, one day at a time. Now, shall we hear the rest of the show?”
That wasn’t going to be a problem. Kenny Wayne was in fine form, tearing up the air with his guitar. I sank into my chair and then into the music. In fact, I was so into it that it was a bit of a shock when Rashid reached over and covered my fingers with his.
And the funny thing? His hand felt really good.
If that doesn’t mess you up, I don’t know what will.
I have to say, even with his perfect grammar and custom-made suits, Rashid was fun to have around. When he got up with everyone else to dance in the aisle, Farrouk and Bashir stiffened and kept their thousand-yard stares scanning in every direction, but Rashid grabbed me right there in front of them.
So then I had to add good dancer to the list.
I mean, whether he was six or sixteen, this guy was hard not to like—and the fact that closed doors had a habit of swinging wide for him didn’t hurt, either. Which was why we found ourselves at the afterparty with the band at Yoshi’s, grooving to their headliner and trading banter at two in the morning.
I stopped looking at my watch after that. Once you get past midnight, it’s all the same, anyway. All I know is, when we finally cruised up the school driveway, gravel crunch-ing under the tires of the limo, there wasn’t a light on anywhere in the building except for the dim sconces in the entry hall.
Wordlessly, Rashid took my hand and pulled me into the common room opposite the stairs, where it was so dark I could only see a little of his face as the light from the hall played over it.
I expected him to drop my hand and tell me something romantic, like he couldn’t wait for the dawn, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled me closer.
“Rashid?” I whispered uncertainly.
“I had so much fun tonight, Shani.” His breath moved the little curls by my ear. “I wonder, will it always be like this?”
“It’s only our first date,” I said. “Last night didn’t count. And I don’t know.” How many concerts and clubs did he plan to take me to? “I want you to tell me something. For real.”
“Of course. I would never lie to you.”
That’s what guys always say, and you roll your eyes and hedge your bets. But for some reason, I believed Rashid. He was a stand-up guy who didn’t, as Mac would say, mess you about. That’s the only reason I had the guts to ask what I needed to know.
“Why me? Out of all the girls in this school, why pick me?”
He smiled. That much I could see from the hall lights. The dark hid his eyes and one side of his body. “You are modest, deep inside.”
As opposed to my outside? What was wrong with red shoes and a flirty neckline? I pulled back a little. “What does that mean?”
“It is only one of many reasons. Our families. Our childhood memories. You have grown up to be beautiful and intelligent. You dress well and you have presence. But more than these, you are compassionate and loyal and fun. Does that satisfy you?”
“That little laundry list could apply to any one of my friends, too. Why not one of them?”
“Because I feel most comfortable with you. You do not treat me like a prince. You treat me like a friend. As though the years since our summers in Greece had not passed.”
“But they did pass. I’m not that little girl anymore, Rashid.”
“I know.” He smiled in a way that told me he liked it that his friend was all grown up.
“And I have lots of male friends. I’m not going to write them off just because you want me to…be exclusive.”
“Of course not. I know you have many friends. But I hope to be more than that.”
Oh. Um. Now would be the time to tell him about your breakfast date, girlfriend. The one happening in, like, four point five hours.
I took a breath and opened my mouth to say, “About those other friends—” when his arm slid around my waist and he tilted his head down and kissed me.
And I totally forgot my words.
Chapter 10
DESPITE THE FACT that I don’t drink anything stronger than Mountain Dew, and Rashid doesn’t drink at all, when my phone rang at some horrific hour the next morning, I could hardly see to answer it. Was there such a thing as date hangover?
>
“Glmph?”
“Shani? Hello?”
“Guhh.”
“Shani, it’s Danyel. Are you okay?”
“Uhhh-huh.”
“Are we still on for breakfast?”
I tilted the phone’s bright face toward me: 7:57. Was that morning? Duh, breakfast. Of course it was morning. “What day is it?”
“It’s Sunday. We were supposed to have breakfast at my sister’s and go to church together, remember? I’m outside waiting for you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
My mind processed these facts with all the speed of a glacier careening across a continent. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I’m okay. I just didn’t get much sleep.”
I’d lain awake in the dark for a long time, listening to Carly’s and Mac’s even breathing and thinking about Rashid’s kiss. He’d made it crystal clear he wanted to take our friendship to the next level, and that kiss had given me a hint of what it could be like. I mean, I never thought I’d be in danger of being swept away by a guy, but that shows you what I know. I felt like I was standing on a stone above a waterfall, looking out at the rushing torrent that would claim me if I took a single step.
The problem was, there were people on this side of the river, too. People I wanted to stay with just as much.
Danyel cleared his throat. “So, are we on or do you want to skip?”
The words might have been cool, but underneath them was the rough sound of hurt. He’d expected me to be as glad to see him—as prepared, and yeah, like, dressed—as he clearly was to see me. He’d driven all the way up from Daly City to Pacific Heights to pick me up. Until two days ago, I’d been crushing on him to the point of telling him about it, and now what? Was I just going to hang up and go back to sleep because I’d been out too late with another guy?
Of course not. The only step I was going to take this morning was through the door in Spencer’s foyer. “I’ll be down in fifteen minutes. Don’t leave.”
“Not happening.” The smile was back in his voice, and I felt a little better as I snapped the phone shut and rolled out of bed.
Who Made You a Princess? Page 8
