Page 96 of Prince of the Palisades

But I do. I need to tellsomeone. And now I know. Léon wasn’t that person. It’s Reiss, who always listens and calls me out and willingly lets me into his world.

I let the words come. Every sickening thing.

“I wasn’t drunk at the party,” I clarify. “I wasangry. Kofi knew something was wrong. He always does. But he fucking let them record me. Then, he left me with the mess.”

Reiss raises his cup. I dig in.

“This is why I don’t have friends.” I exhale. “No one wants to deal with royal drama. The endless bullshit. And no one sticks around long enough for me to—”

“Learn how to be a good friend?” he offers.

I nod, the melting ice cream cooling my temper.

“It’s easier to keep everyone at a distance,” I confess. “No one gets hurt that way.”

“What about you?”

I shrug like it’s nothing. “People will always have things to say about me.”

I’m one of three Black princes in the entire world. The othertwo are much older. I’m also the first gay prince in line to the throne in my country’s history. Every story written about a young, non-Black royal is a fluff piece compared to the ones about me. The media will never admit it, but I know why.

Reiss’s forehead wrinkles. “That doesn’t mean they’re right.”

“What’s right and what people believe are two very different things.”

He stirs his ice cream. Then, casually, he says, “I quit the essay hustle.”

My eyebrows rocket up.

“Don’t look so shocked. I have some integrity.”

“Feeling up a prince in the back room of your parents’ coffee shop?” I squint at him, then repeat his own words: “The jury’s still out.”

“Shut up.” He smiles. “I need my scholarship. And recommendation letters from Willow Wood’s faculty are worth more than a sick new pair of LeBrons.”

“Bold statement.”

“That’s me.” He scoops more chocolate, but instead of shoveling it into his own mouth, Reiss holds it toward me. “Super bold.”

I take my time scraping the ice cream off his spoon, relishing the way his eyes never leave my mouth.

“Don’t tell Karan I told you.” He sighs. “But my short film? For Oceanfront Film Fest? It’s about fear and how we’re still beautiful as people in spite of it.”

I tilt my head, curious, hungry for more.

“Karan’s afraid of drowning,” Reiss tells me. “Lo’s scared ofsea animals. Specifically dolphins, but other ones too. Dom hates scary movies.”

The pool at Nathan’s house. The fountain in Willow Wood’s courtyard. Footage of him chasing Dominic around The Hopper in a Ghostface mask. All the places I’ve seen Reiss with his phone or Canon.

He explains how each shot is interspersed with footage of his friends, his family. Laughing. Living joyfully, without fear holding them back. The way he describes it warms my chest. In a good way.

“So, when you said that to Dom—” He pauses, smiling. “It was perfect.”

I press my knee against his. “Do you want me to say it again?” I motion to his phone on the bench. “For the film?”

His eyes widen. “Seriously?”

I nod, despite the nervous sweat breaking out across my hairline.

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