Who Made You a Princess? (3 page)

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 her 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.

To: [email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Date: September 22, 2009

Re: Hello from Cairo

Hey sweet thing, how are you? We have a 12-hour layover in Cairo before our flight to London, so I’m crashed on a big bed
in the Four Seasons and catching up on e-mail. I’m thinking you should be back at school today, right? It’s so hard to believe
you’re a senior. It seems like just last week we drove up that gravel drive, and you stood at the bottom of the stairs, trying
to put on your game face before you went in. And now, soon you’ll be buying a prom dress! Too bad the trip to Paris is *after*
graduation. Though I must say I have a certain little plan for the spring couture shows ::zips lips::

I wanted to give you a heads-up about an old friend of yours. Remember when you were little and we went to Greece in the summer?
You must’ve been six or so when we started going. Anyway, we always stayed in a white house that looked like a stack of sugar
cubes, right on the beach, that belonged to some friends of ours. Back then they were just Zuleikha and Amir al-Aarez, but
now they’re Their Serene Highnesses of Yasir. And guess what? Their son Rashid is going to be doing an exchange term right
there at Spencer!

We have an even closer connection with the family, did you know that? Besides a bunch of history I won’t go into, your great-grandma
Hanna married one of his uncles. It’s not like you’re related all that close, though—in case, you know, you wanted to date
him! LOL.