Page 109 of Bad Prince
I answer before it rings twice.
She doesn’t greet me this time.
“¿Qué está pasando contigo, Stella?”
What is going on with you, Stella?
I sit on the edge of my bed.
“Mamá, no es lo que parece.”
It’s not what it looks like.
She exhales sharply.
“Siempre dicen eso. No es lo que parece.”
That’s what everyone says. It’s not what it looks like.
My throat tightens.
“Estoy en una escuela donde todos miran. Todos hablan.”
I’m at a school where everyone watches. Everyone talks.
“Entonces compórtate como si lo supieras.”
Then behave like you know that.
I flinch.
“Mamá—”
“¿Tú sabes lo que sacrificamos para que estés ahí?”
Do you know what we sacrificed for you to be there?
My eyes sting.
“Sí.”
“Tu nombre no es entretenimiento.”
Your name is not entertainment.
The word lands heavy.
Entertainment.
I glance at my phone again.
Because now it’s worse.
Way worse.
One of the anonymous campus tea accounts posted a slow-motion clip of the balcony kiss with dramatic music behind it.
Another post stitched both kisses side by side with the caption:
