Page 208 of Bad Prince

---

Not outwardly.

But I see it.

The micro-shift.

The way her shoulders stiffen.

The way her fingers tighten slightly on her strap.

Then—

She laughs.

Light.

Dismissive.

Perfectly timed.

“I don’t give a fuck,” she says coolly. “You can hashtag that if you want.”

The girl beside her blinks.

Thrown.

Not expecting that.

Stella adjusts her bag higher on her shoulder.

Turns.

And walks right past me.

Close enough that I catch it?—

Coconut.

Vanilla.

Clean skin and something warmer underneath.

Her ponytail swishes.

Sharp.

Deliberate.

She doesn’t look at me.

Not once.

But her jaw is tight.

Her steps just a fraction too fast.

Her breathing just a little too shallow.

And something in my chest twists.

---