Page 44 of Prince of the Palisades

Small like the last time, I think to say, but that won’t help my cause.

“Lies,” Morgan says for me, cackling.

“Are you bringing a plus-one?” Grace asks.

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I roll my shirtsleeves to my elbows. I haven’t completely conformed to everyone else’s uniform protocol. Only tiny adjustments. I consider Grace’s question.

A plus-one. Someone to pull me away from boring conversations. Who’ll make me laugh or call me out when my resting prince face kicks in.

Would Reiss say yes if I asked?

“I don’t know,” I finally say.

On the other side of Grace, Morgan gives me a look. Pursed lips, accusing eyebrow. Like she knows exactly what I was thinking.

I ignore her. “Would it be okay if I did?”

Grace straightens her posture, crossing her legs. “Let me know. I want to make sure…” She trails off.

The bell rings in the quad.

As Nathan scoops up his skateboard and Morgan packs away her lunch, Grace says, “Just get my approval first.”

It’s not a command, but there’s a hint of something in her voice. Concern? Distrust? I don’t know her well enough to decipher it. I haven’ttriedto get to know her either.

“Of course,” I say before she walks away.

I jog after Morgan, who’s headed in the opposite direction. “Wait,” I say, a little breathlessly, when I catch up. “What was that?”

Morgan doesn’t slow down, but her forehead wrinkles. “What was what?”

“With Grace,” I get out. For someone shorter than me, Morgan’s fast. Was it like this when she gave me a tour of campus? “The plus-one thing.”

A realization flashes in her eyes. “Grace is…uptight about certain things,” she says.

“Certain things?” I repeat with a skeptical stare.

Morgan adjusts her backpack. “She doesn’t trust everyone. Look at who she is.” She sizes me up. “I’m sure you understand.”

I make a face. “I’m not like—”

Her hard stare, pinched face, dares me to finish my sentence.

“Point taken,” I relent.

“She has her reasons,” Morgan adds without elaborating. “She likes to know who’s going to be around her inner circle or whatever.”

“Sounds controlling.”

“You’re no trip to Disneyland yourself, Just Jadon,” Morgan comments. Again, I don’t argue. I follow her around the corner. “Also, maybe don’t bring a certain film student with pink hair to the party.”

I stumble a little.

“I have no idea who you’re referring to.”

“You’re a bad liar,” she says impassively.

“Why not him?” I ask, voice tight.

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