Page 20 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

Suddenly, I’m even more grateful to be at the academy because, besides the people involved in my scholarship, no one else knows where I am.

I chew on my thumbnail as worry stirs inside me. What if someone does find out? I don’t see how they would, but it could happen.

Just take a deep breath, Maddy. If you can get through your childhood, you can get through this.

I send Hannah a reply.

Me: I’m good. Just hiding out for a while. I’ll keep you posted.

Hannah: I’m so glad. I was so worried. If you need anything, please ask. I know it’s not your style, but I want to help.

I won’t ask her for help because it’s not my style, and it’s not her style either. Hannah is wild as hell, and I’m not. To be honest, I think part of the reason we still talk to each other is because we’ve been friends since we were kids. We’re not close anymore, haven’t been since she started dating Will, who’s a total wanna-be badass. It’s so annoying.

“Hey.” Lily pokes her head into her room, startling me. “I don’t want to interrupt your unpacking or anything, but I wanted to see if maybe you needed help picking out something to wear.” She crosses her arms. “I mean, you can totally wear what you have on, but I’d feel like the worst roommate ever if I didn’t let you in on the unsaid dress code for these types of things. It’s never required to dress a specific way to events. However, we’ll be judged—we’re always judged.”

“Thanks for the tip.” I stand up and toss my phone onto my bed. “I’m not a nice outfit sort of girl, so I don’t know if I have anything, but I’ll see what I can find.”

I step into the closet and start sifting through the clothes that I hung up. “I have a dress,” I call out. “But that’s about it.”

“Can I see it?”

“Sure.” I exit the closet with the plaid, thin-strapped dress in my hands. It reaches just above my knees, but the top shows a lot of skin. “I’m not sure if it’ll work or not.”

“It’s super cute, but …” She taps her finger against her lip. “Maybe if you wore a fitted T-shirt underneath it? Do you have one?”

“I have a black one.”

“That’ll look so cute.”

“Am I trying to look cute?”

“Cute and classy.”

Her outfit does fit into those categories.

“What about tights?” she asks, assessing the dress as if she’s visualizing the finished outfit.

I shake my head. “Nah, I don’t own any. Never have.”

“Really?” Her eyes widen as I shake my head again. She considers this then asks, “Do you want to borrow a pair of mine?”

Tights sound like an awful, itchy thing to wear, but again, I want to attempt to do well here, so I nod and tell her, “Sure. Thanks.”

Her smile widens, and then she exits the room. A moment later, she returns with a pair of knee-high tights. Then she leaves so I can change.

The outfit is cute, but I feel odd, like I’m playing dress-up. So, I decide to slip my leather jacket on. While I want to fit in, I don’t want to lose my identity.

I am who I am, and it’s something I’ve always lived by.

I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

Maddison

People are staring. It’s like no one has ever taught them that staring is rude. Or maybe they just don’t give a shit. I need to go back to that girl, the one who gives zero craps about anything. But this place—the shininess, the wealth, the upper class—is making me feel like I’m playing dress-up in clothes that don’t fit me. It’s all in my head. I know this since what I’m wearing hugs my body like it’s meant for me.

“God, it’s like people around here have never seen someone from northside before,” I state as Lily and I walk down the hallway, heading toward the room where orientation is taking place.

“Honestly, most of them probably haven’t,” she informs me as she tosses a nervous glance around the room. “But they’re probably staring at me just as much as you.”

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