Page 106 of Prince of the Palisades

“Then why’d you leave?”

“Why?” He repeats it with a pinched face, like the question tastes sour. “What did you want me to do? Go against the king’s orders?”

“How about not let someone record me during my worst moment—”

“You have a lot of those, Jadon—”

“—and release it to the whole damn world?”

“Here’s an idea.” He edges closer. “How about, for once, we don’t make everything about you, Your Highness?”

His tone is like a sharp slap across the cheek. He’s never talked to me like this—with overwhelming disgust.

At my silence, his nostrils flare.

“You still don’t get it.” Kofi throws his arms out wildly. “It was my fucking birthday—”

Ajani leans forward. “Watch your tongue. Or I’ll remove it.”

I lift my hand before she follows through on her promise. I want him to finish.

“You mademy dayall about you, like always,” Kofi says, lowering his voice, but the rage is still brimming.

“We didn’t have to talk about it,” I argue. “Youaskedmewhat was wrong.”

“Sorry for caring,” he says without a hint of sympathy.

“You let total strangers into our booth.”

“Yeah.” Kofi scoffs. “Because it was better than hanging out with poor, sad Jadon again.”

“Theyfilmed me, Kofi.” I shake my head, chest hot. “Invaded my private moment. I needed a friend.”

“You don’t know what that word means.”

It’s another sting to the face. He’s right. We’ve been around each other for years, but I don’tknowKofi. His favorite movie. His dreams or fears. I never asked.

Kofi was always this carefree force of nature I could go to when I was angry or frustrated. I was made of gasoline. He was the one holding a match. But were we ever more than just two boys watching our fire burn the world down?

I hear Grace’s voice in my ears:Where areyourfriends, Jadon?

Judging from Kofi’s impatient glare, I never had any.

“Mon Dieu,” he whines, shaking his head. “You don’t get it. I was tired of being your sidekick. Tired of making every littlething about you. I needed a break, so I let them in.”

I thought it would be different. Hearing him admit it. Like it’d give me relief. But it only makes me angrier.

He laughs bitterly. “I didn’t think one video would ruin the son of a king—”

“I’m aperson,” I seethe.

Tears prick my eyes. I didn’t choose to be a prince. To grow up the way I did. But I chose loneliness and distance and making excuses for never fixing that. Because it was safer, comfortable.

But comfort doesn’t last forever. And I don’t want it to.

I want movie nights with Karan and Lo. Mornings in the courtyard with Morgan and Nathan. Scooter rides and pier walks and sharing hot chocolates with Reiss.

That’s the kind of friendship I’m choosing for myself.

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