Page 216 of Bad Prince

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I should be studying.

Should be reviewing film.

Should be in the gym.

Should be doing anything except this?—

whatever this is. But Coach was adamant that I’m burning myself out. And she’s probably right.

Because all I can hear?—

over and over—is Isa’s voice behind that curtain.

“The second his name hit the portal…”

“My mom said lock it in…”

“I do like him.”

My jaw tightens. It’s been weeks and yet, T & T is all I can think about. Especially when it’s in my face everywhere I go.

I close my eyes.

It doesn’t help. I thought I could block it all out. Ice out my feelings pretend I don’t care by locking in harder. Instead—I got politely kicked out of the field house for three days.

The driver turns onto a narrower street.

The buildings change.

Less polished.

More lived in.

Murals on brick walls. Hand-painted signs. A corner store with bars on the windows and bright posters taped crooked in the glass.

The air feels different here.

Warmer.

Messier.

Real.

“We’re here,” he says.

I blink.

Look up.

And there it is.

A small restaurant tucked between a laundromat and a tire shop.

The sign is slightly faded.

Paint chipped at the edges.

But the windows glow warm.

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