Page 99 of Prince of the Palisades

Oh.

Whatever resilience I had left dies in that moment. Head tipped back, I bark out a laugh while escorting him through the arches.

Inside the courtyard, conversations drop out. Bulging eyes track our stroll. Damien Cho from Lit and Composition is staring so hard, he crashes into a trashcan. Phones are covertly raised in our direction. I cheat my gaze toward Reiss.

He’s grinning. I mirror him, proudly lifting my chin. The whispers pick up:

“No fucking way.”

“Is that—ishewho the prince was making out with?”

“Oh my god, text Becky. And Adam. They’re gonna lose it.”

On the benches, Nathan fist-pumps the air. “Hell yeah, PJ!”

I search for Morgan. We haven’t talked since the night of the protest. She swore her mom was cool about her being there, even if her stepdad was furious. But she’s missing. Next to Nathan, Grace lowers her Chanel sunglasses, her expression neutral.

I wonder if she gets me now. If she understands I’m tired of trying to win people over. That I hope she starts being the real Grace too.

Flashing my brightest grin, I shout, “Good morning!”

A beat. She arches one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows, the corners of her lips twitching. A small smirk.

The smile on my own face doesn’t fade until the final bell.

Play rehearsals run more smoothly. For the most part.

We’re off-book now. I still forget a line or two, but those extra practices with Nadia and Mia helped. Dr. Garza Villa side-eyes me a little less now. Dustin’s still one lighting or sound issue away from setting himself on fire, but we’ve transitioned into dress rehearsals without having to cancel the production. That’s a positive.

Backstage, I’m sitting in front of a vanity wearing a partially finished costume—a sharp emerald suit with black lapels.

Lo beams at their work while hovering over me with a makeup brush.

“Thanks for doing this,” I say.

They shrug. “It’s my job.”

“Yeah, but.” I shake my head. “It’s weird. I feel like I’mreallyMr. Green.”

My eyes dart to the stage, where Mr. June gives Karan some tips. We’re okay. He doesn’t avoid me during rehearsals anymore, but he doesn’t go out of his way to chat either.

Lo must notice my frown. “He’ll get over it.”

“Who?”

“Don’t act.” Lo tickles my cheeks with the brush. “Reiss explained everything to us. I’m cool. But Karan’s great at holding grudges. Fucking Aries.”

I chuckle.

“He was salty for two weeks when I missed his sixth-grade talent show performance,” Lo goes on. “I had bronchitis!”

I recognize that look in Lo’s eyes while they watch Karan talk animatedly with Mr. June—longing. “He’s a good friend,” they say.

“Uh huh. Agoodfriend.”

Lo ignores the smile in my voice, busying themselves with their makeup kit. They tilt my chin up to examine my face. A beat passes before they say, “Hey, what you did the other day? The protest?”

I nod carefully.

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