Who Made You a Princess? (25 page)

“I know what I want to do. Ask some more questions. Go to college. Get that M.B.A. But that still doesn’t tell me what to
do about my dad and PetroNova and everything else.”

He picked a blade of grass out of the lawn and began folding it up into sections, like an accordion. “You said he chose to
do that, right? Make the deal with the Sheikh even though he wasn’t the guy who would have to keep it?”

“Yeah.”

“So you didn’t make any deal, from what I can tell. They can’t force you.”

“Maybe they can. Maybe they can throw a bag over my head and fly me to Yasir and make me marry Rashid.”

“I think there are laws against that.”

“The Sheikh
is
the law there.”

“I don’t think you have to worry. I didn’t have much time to get to know Rashid, but he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d
want his fiancée treated that way.”

“That’s the thing.” I wrapped my arms around my knees. “He
is
a nice guy. For a while there, I liked him a lot.”

“More than me?” He grinned like it was a joke, but I shook my head.

“He did it for me physically, but it was always you who could do it for me all the other ways.”

“Whoa.” He blinked, fast, the way people do when firecrackers go off under their noses. “You got physical with that guy?”

“Would you relax? We just kissed.”

“Kissing leads to other stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. “You sound like my mother. And if it were any of your nevermind, I’d tell you it didn’t lead to anything.
Nothing.
Nada
. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Besides, I kissed you.”

“That was an accident.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Stop it, girl. When we get around to kissing for real, it won’t be an accident.”

“Promises, promises.”

He grinned at me. “I always keep ’em. Consider yourself warned.”

Shivery anticipation tingled all the way down to my feet. I hoped it wasn’t visible. “So, getting back on topic,” I said,
“is that what you think I should do? Tell my dad I can’t keep a promise he made before I was born? Let him lose his company,
our house, the whole enchilada? That seems really harsh.”

“Maybe, but when people gamble, sometimes they lose. And what if God has a plan for your life that doesn’t include being Princess
of Yasir?”

“Seems like He does, huh.”

“I’d say so.”

In the distance, the sound of dirt bikes growling up and down a steep slope chattered across the fields. Carly’s hair was
probably flying in the wind as she rode, keeping up with Brett.

What would she tell me?

I think you already know.

I rolled onto my stomach and rested my chin in my hands. Danyel was the kind of guy who didn’t mind when silences fell. He
gazed into the hazy golden distance, giving me space while I struggled against the ropes of a promise no girl should have
to keep.

Why should I have to make this decision? What a waste of time and emotion. I should be plotting on how to get Danyel to kiss
me, like a normal girl.

But no. According to my dad, I wasn’t a normal girl and never had been. I was a princess-in-training without even knowing
about it.

Danyel chuckled, almost too low to hear.

“What?”

“I was just thinking about that verse in First Peter that talks about us being part of a royal family. You’ve been a princess
your whole life without even knowing it.”

I rolled to a sitting position, staring at him. “What did you say? Do you, like, read minds?”

“Here.” He pulled his BlackBerry out of his pocket and brought up the Internet, then the Bible site I’d seen Carly using when
she was supposed to be studying.

“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises
of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”

“That’s weird,” I breathed. “I was just thinking how I wasn’t normal—that my parents have been bringing me up to be this royal
somebody I don’t want to be.”

“And all this time God had a bigger plan. He already thinks you’re a princess. You’ve just been living like one of those ex-pats,
in a foreign country. But I think you’re on the way home, aren’t you?”

Home.

I’d always thought it was Chicago. Lately I’ve thought it was San Francisco. But maybe it wasn’t either of those places. Maybe
it wasn’t a place at all. Maybe it was a person.

Or a Being.

Or both.

I hated the thought of being a princess in the eyes of my parents, and even those of the people over there in Yasir. But being
a princess in the eyes of God was completely different. It made me feel…wanted. Loved. Like I’d been handed a sparkly tiara
to wear on the inside, just because I was me.

I took a deep breath. “I think I know what I’m going to do.”

Danyel nodded. “You’ll tell me if you need me, right?”

“Believe me, you’ll be the second one to know.”

D
ANYEL CARRIED MY BAG
up Spencer’s front steps and into the reception hall. Only he forgot to put it down. Instead, turning a three-sixty, he stared
up at the marble staircase, at the row of French windows opening out on the grassy quad, at the carved wooden doors leading
to the administration offices (which, since it was Sunday afternoon, were closed).

“You call this a school?”

“Welcome to Spencer Academy.” Lissa and Gillian passed him on their way up the stairs. “No boys allowed past this point.”

“Want me to take that up?” Carly grabbed my bag out of his hand and hefted it. “You should give him a tour.”

Through the windows, I caught a glimpse of Rashid at one of the tables in the quad with Vanessa. A stack of books sat beside
them, and as he pointed something out in her notebook, he made explanatory gestures with his hands.

Ha. Vanessa wasn’t exactly short on brains. I’d bet a
crème brulée
she was playing dumb to get him to hang with her, out there where everyone on four floors could look down and see them.

Danyel watched me watching Rashid. “Who’s the chick?”

I shrugged. “Random royalty. Come on, I’m starving. Let’s get you a visitor pass and then raid the dining room.”

We collected pass and snacks and I gave him the twenty-five-cent tour of the main building. We were down in the music wing,
where Danyel had gotten a kick out of plinking out the melody to some old Beach Boys song on one of the concert harps, when
we met a gaggle of seniors in the hall outside, carrying sheet music like they’d been at rehearsal.

“Is that her?” one of them asked.

“Yeah, it is.” DeLayne Geary stuck out a hip and propped a hand on it. “The PG Princess herself.” The others fanned out behind
her, blocking the corridor so Danyel and I couldn’t get past without hip-checking someone out of the way.

I mimicked her pose—which was a lot more convincing on me, let me tell you. “What are you saying? Let us by.”

“I hear you been doing bad things, nasty girl.”

“I hear you crazy,” I retorted in her same fake street vernacular. “Give me specifics or shut up.”

“Pre-ggo.” Dani Lavigne stepped out from under Rory Stapleton’s arm.
Eww
. “preg-go, preg-go.” The rest took up the chant. “preg-go, preg-go!”

This was not the Italian word for “you’re welcome,” which slipped out of Mrs. Loyola now and again. I stared at them, completely
incredulous that a stupid rumor was still making the rounds—and that anyone with a brain believed it.

“Let’s see that baby bump!”

“Who’s your baby daddy, Hanna? The prince?”

“No way. He dumped her ’cuz she was cheating on him with this guy.”

“Who is that?”

“Yeah, Shani. You two-timin’ Rashid with this fine brotha? That why he dumped you?”

“I’m not your brother,” Danyel told DeLayne, his lip curling with disgust. “Get out of the way, trashmouth.”

“You ain’t seen trash ’til you’ve seen this girl,” DeLayne told him smugly, flicking a hand at me. “You gonna show us that
bump or not?”

“I don’t have to show you anything. If you believe that old rumor, you’re just too stupid to live.”

Danyel’s face had gone from surprise to disgust to still, cold anger. “Who’s saying she’s pregnant?” he demanded. “Who’s spreading
this around?”

“Why do you care?” some boy in the back jeered. “You in lo-o-ove?”

“I care because she’s my friend,” Danyel snapped. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Nahhh,” the boy said. “Maybe you care ’cuz it’s yours, huh? She doin’ both of you?”

Danyel went for him, and I grabbed his arm and dragged him back.

“Doesn’t matter who started it. Every rumor has some truth to it.” DeLayne stared me in the eye while I kept Danyel in the
edge of my vision in case he tried to jump the other kid again. “So you gonna prove us wrong?”

“You deaf? I don’t have to prove anything to you. But if you had eyes in your head you’d see I’m wearing size two jeans, and
there’s no room for a baby.” I raked her up and down with a scornful look. “Unlike some of us, who could fit a whole other
person in our jeans if we’d lose some weight.”

“Shani,” Danyel said, one tone up from a whisper. “Don’t lose it. Don’t be like them.”

Don’t lose it? Hadn’t he almost lost it? I had a lot more right to—I’d just been accused of doing the nasty with not one guy,
but two!

I hunched my shoulders. “Get out of my way, scovel,” I snapped, and pushed past DeLayne. The boy beside her was no match for
me. I swung a hip at him and he stum-bled to the right, clearing enough room for Danyel to shove past him, right behind me.

We cleared the mob and headed down the corridor, their jeers and catcalls following us like a cloud of wasps.

“Who were those people?” Danyel demanded, jogging after me.

I wasn’t quite sure where I was going. I turned right, then left. “Just scumballs.” The words were hard in my mouth. “Ignore
them.”

“It’s pretty hard to ignore that.”

“I’ve been doing it for weeks. Somebody got jealous of me and Rashid and didn’t have enough imagination to do anything but
start a rumor.”

We were in the corridor behind the dining room. I pushed open the discreet, unmarked door to the rain tunnel, which stretched
into the dim distance. A good place to hide until I got my peace back.

Which could take until morning.

“Shani, wait. Where you going so fast?”

“I’ma show you the field house. It’s at the end of this tunnel.”

“You don’t have to run away from them.”

That stopped me. “I’m not running.”

He raised his eyebrows at me with a funny little smile. “Then how come I’m puffing like a train?”

“Because you’re out of shape?”

But he wasn’t, and I was. Running, I mean. I stopped and leaned against the cool concrete wall, tilting my head up to inspect
the boring beige ceiling.

“My life stinks so bad they can smell it in Oakland.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I’m sorry you had to see it.”

“I’ve seen worse. I go to public school, remember?”

Okay. Point taken. “Still.”

He slid an arm around me and pulled me against his chest. “Don’t let them get to you. You did good, facing them down like
that.”

“I always thought DeLayne could have been a friend. We sort of were, in freshman year, and then she hooked up with Vanessa
and turned into a—” What did Lissa call them? “A pod person.”

“Her loss.” He leaned his forehead against mine. “Just be with me for a minute.”

I don’t know how much time passed. It could have been a minute. It could have been ten, or thirty. At last Danyel stirred.
“I know my timing is lousy, but…I have to go.”

I nodded. It felt so good to be held. Especially by arms as strong as these. And his shoulder felt so good under my cheek.
“I know, I know. Six hours’ drive.”

“I’ll come back next weekend. Stay with my sister.”

“Please tell me I’m not invited to breakfast.”

He chuckled, and I heard it deep in his chest. “Malika’s not so bad. Hang around with her enough, you’ll get to like her.”

“I’d rather hang around with you.”

“That I’ll promise.”

I stayed still, breathing in the scent of his clothes. “I remember another promise you made me.”