Page 119 of Bad Prince
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Stella
I don’t breathe until I turn the corner.
Not a real breath.
Not the kind that fills your lungs.
Just shallow survival air so I don’t crack in front of a hundred phones.
My legs feel steady.
That’s good.
My hands don’t.
I make it to the stairwell before the first tear slips free. I wipe it away fast, angry at it. No one gets to see me like this.
Not again.
Not because of him.
My chest aches where he pressed my hand against it.
“This is real.”Why does he have to say things like that?
Why does he have to look at me like I’m not a headline or a rumor or a conquest — but something sacred?
It would be easier if he was an asshole.
It would be easier if he’d laughed.
If he’d argued.
If he’d chased harder.
But he didn’t.
He said okay.
And walked away.
That’s what undoes me.
By the time I get to the locker room, the buzz has already spread.
Two of the girls stop talking when I walk in.
Delia doesn’t.
She takes one look at my face and closes her locker gently.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Lie.
