Who Made You a Princess? (26 page)

He didn’t play dumb. “Yeah?”

“You gonna keep it?”

“I’m waiting for the right time.”

I tilted my face up to look him in the eyes. “If ever there was a right time, it’s now.”

For once, he didn’t have an answer. Instead, he just looked into my eyes and, oh so softly, took my chin in his hand and ran
his thumb along my jaw.

“You have the softest skin,” he said.

And then he lowered his mouth to mine.

MY MOTHER HAD DRESSED
to impress in a royal blue—get it?—Vera Wang wool suit and Donald Pliner black-patent slingbacks. Any other time I’d have
been filled with admiration that hey, this was my mom looking so fine, and my dad looking every inch the CEO in his Hugo Boss
double-breasted suit.

As the situation stood, I wouldn’t be parading around the school showing them off anytime soon. Especially with people popping
their heads out of rooms and hissing “PG Princess!” until I wanted to scream and throw sharp objects.

Danyel had only been gone two hours and already his absence felt like a big hole inside me. Next weekend seemed an eternity
away—especially considering the hurdles I had to jump before I got there.

At exactly seven o’clock, I pushed the door of the visitors’ study open with one hip and carried in a tray holding a plate
of madeleines and three piping-hot lattes, courtesy of the barista still on duty in the dining room.

“Hey Mom, Dad. Coffee?”

Mom loves madeleines. Her head craned toward them, while the rest of her stayed aloof until she had a bead on whether or not
my attitude had changed.

Well, she could take them or leave them. I helped myself to a couple, took a latte, and folded myself onto the leather couch.
“These are good,” I said around a bite. “You should try one.”

Mom gave in and settled onto the couch with a latte and one of the little cookies. Dad was a different story.

“I want to ask you to please not disappear like that again,” he said heavily. “You scared us both to death.”

Disappear? Oh. Napa. “Ms. Curzon knew where we were,” I said. “Did you ask her?”

“I don’t need to go through the principal to find out where my daughter is. I call her phone and expect her to answer. The
first time.”

“Do you have any idea what I went through?” Mom asked. “I had no idea if anyone was looking after you, where you were, if
you’d had a relapse, who you were with. Honestly, Shani, you need to be more responsible and considerate of other people’s
feelings.”

“The way you considered mine?”

I wasn’t angry, honest. I wanted to know. because now that I’d made my decision, I felt completely calm. Had it only been
this morning that we’d gone to church with Mrs. Loyola (barely fitting in her Range Rover)? It seemed like years ago. Anyway,
for the first time, I’d focused on what people were praying about, on the words of the songs, and on what the pastor said.
No looking around at other people’s clothes, no scoping out cute guys, no slouching in boredom when the pastor got long-winded.

Okay, maybe a little of that last one, because the guy really did take a long time to make his point.

But still. I came out of there feeling…at peace. Finally. I’d made a decision, and Carly says that peace inside is the best
way to tell if it’s the right one.

And Danyel’s kiss had gone beyond that and confirmed it.

“Shani, we have considered you, right from the beginning,” my father said. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t choose a life
with Rashid. He’s a fine young man from a family that’s known in the Middle East for being ahead of the norm in human rights.
You’ll have unlimited money, numerous homes, and, since I know this is important to you, couture houses courting you to wear
their clothes.”

“I don’t care about that, Dad.”

“You certainly used to.”

“I’ve changed.”

“How?” my mother asked. “How have you changed? Help us understand you, and maybe we can help you understand our position.”

Ha. That was about as likely as me going to Harvard. I looked at her more closely. She was way too calm, considering the situation.
Had she been popping Valium?

But…she wanted to listen, pharmaceuticals or not, and that didn’t happen often. “In the last year I’ve become a different
person. I’ve learned to care about stuff. About people. I have friends I can count on, and I have a boyfriend”—Wow, had I
really said that? And it was totally true!—“who cares about me and who I think is the greatest thing on two legs.”

“Okay.” I could see
What does this have to do with it?
stamped all over my mother’s face.

“The thing is, the girl I was last year might have gone along with it, you know? Because nothing mattered to me, and I didn’t
matter to anyone. So anything would have been better than where I was, right?”

“You matter deeply to us,” my dad said gruffly.

“Dad, you say that, but face it, if I really did, you’d put me before PetroNova or the Sheikh or Rashid or the next outfit
Mom buys. Okay? You’d put me before everything else, the way Carly’s dad thinks of her and her brother first before he makes
decisions, or the way Mac’s mom flies halfway across the world so she can be with her when she testifies, even though it hurts
her worse than anything to be in that courtroom. You see what I’m saying?”

Clearly they had no idea what I was talking about, and I didn’t feel like bringing them up to date on what was happening in
my friends’ lives.

“Anyway, the point is, the person I am now has things to live for. Plans. People. Changes to make, starting with me. You want
me to be a princess in the world’s eyes, but I already am in God’s eyes. And speaking of that, I don’t want to take World
Religions. Gillian’s taking me to buy some Bible study books and I’ll read those instead.”

Now they stared at me as if I’d sprouted another head. “What? Since when did you get religion?”

“I haven’t ‘got’ religion. But it’s kinda the only thing in my life that’s making any sense, so I’ma go with it. See where
it takes me.”

“What does that mean?” my dad asked. He wasn’t looking so good. In fact, he looked as if he needed one of Mom’s pills.

“It means I’m not going to marry Rashid,” I said quietly. “I’m not going to Yasir. I’m totally and completely sorry about
the Sheikh pulling his stake in PetroNova, but Dad, you made that deal with him. Not me.”

Silence.

More silence.

At last, through clenched teeth, my father said, “You realize what this is going to mean to your lifestyle?” He said the last
word as if it tasted bad.

I swallowed. “Yes. Is the rest of term paid for?” I wasn’t ready to go back to Chicago and start public school next week.
If the term wasn’t paid for, I was coming up with Plan B ASAP.

“Yes.” He had difficulty getting the word out. “You can stay here until Christmas break. You’re not getting away with this,
Shani.”

I gave him a long look. “You can’t force me, Dad. And Rashid wouldn’t take me under those circumstances, anyway.”

“Have you asked him? Do you even care how he feels about this?” His voice began to rise.

“I do care. And I’m going to ask him. But I felt you should know first.”

His jaw was so tight he could hardly speak, and his hands shook. I slid my feet to the floor in case he tried something on,
and did a fast calculation of the distance to the door. He’d never hit me before, but I’d never destroyed his life before,
either.

“Shani, I’m asking you one last time. If you refuse this, I swear I will take away everything you ever cared about. Not just
this school or our house. You’ll never see these friends of yours again. There will be no money. No allowance. No phone or
computer to replace the ones you have. All you’ll have will be the clothes on your back, because when we clear that house,
I’m giving all your things to charity.”

Everything I valued most—all the things I couldn’t live without—were upstairs in my room.

“I understand that, Dad.”

“I hope you do. Because I will never, ever forgive you for this.”

I looked at him steadily. “That’s okay, Dad. Because someday, somehow, at least I’ll be able to forgive
you
.”

I
COULD SEE
why Rashid had picked the French section. It was completely empty, and so far behind the stacks that Mrs. Lynn—or anyone
else—wouldn’t be able to hear us.

I’d only gotten through a couple of e-mail messages on my iPhone when he stepped around a bookcase and pulled out a chair
next to me at the study table.

With a smile, he said, “I am sorry to be late.”

“It’s okay. This isn’t a conversation I wanted to rush into, anyway.” I slipped my phone into my bag and turned to face him.

“That does not sound good.” He gave me the once-over. “Are you well? Have you recovered from your accident?”

I nodded. “With all the painkillers, I can’t feel a thing. The bruises are big and ugly, but other than that, I’m good. Thanks
for the flowers, by the way. I have the last of them in my room.”

“It was the least I could do. When I called the hospital, they said only family were to be allowed in. And I am not…yet…your
family.”

Well, there was an opener if I ever heard one. “About that, Rashid.”

“It is this you wish to talk about?”

I nodded. “Have you met my parents?”

He hesitated, as if he wanted to give a different answer. “Yes. They have been frequent visitors to Yasir over the last several
years.”

“Did you know they were here?”

“Of course. They were kind enough to invite me to dinner while you were away.”

I bet they were. “Did they tell you what they told me?”

“They told me you were now aware of the agreement between our families. When I got your IM, I suspected this was to be the
subject of our conversation.”

“How do you feel about it? The agreement?”

I knew what my parents thought he thought. But I wanted to know how invested he was in having me as his princess before I
gave him the news that I wasn’t signing up for the job.

“I have not been brought up in the American way,” he said slowly. “Like many sons of royal houses, I have always known I would
marry for political reasons, or for family obligation. So when I came to America to meet you, I had only the memories of my
childhood friend in Greece. I knew nothing of what you were like now except your appearance. I have seen your school pictures
every year, you see.”

In spite of myself, I made a yucky face. “About ninth grade. I’m so sorry. That was a bad hair day.”

He chuckled. “The picture from last year more than made up for it. I looked forward to meeting you again for months.”

“I don’t regret it,” I told him softly. “Our meeting, I mean. I hope you know that. You’re one of the nicest guys I’ve ever
known.”

“I, too, enjoyed getting to know you.” Those deep brown eyes gazed into mine. “But I fear we are sounding like good-bye.”

“I fear we are.” I took a deep breath. “I can’t go through with our fathers’ agreement. I can’t marry you, Rashid.”

He straightened, and I could swear it was because a huge load had just been lifted from his shoulders. But he didn’t break
his gaze. “Why not, Shani?”

“Because we’re too young, for starters. And even if we waited until after we got out of college, I still couldn’t do it. I
want more than political reasons and family obligation. I want love and happiness and everything that comes with spending
your life with the one person you can’t live without.”

“Am I not…lovable?”