Avoiding someone is easy.
Avoiding someone when the entire school watches both of you like a live reality show?
Not so much.
I saw Adrian exactly three times before third period.
Once across the courtyard, surrounded by security and students pretending not to stare.
Once at the top of the staircase, where we both hesitated for half a second before I looked down at my shoes like they were fascinating.
And once in the hallway outside History class… where we almost walked into each other and both muttered "Sorry" at the same time like strangers.
Which, I guess, we were trying to be now.
My chest felt weird all morning. Tight. Heavy. Like I'd swallowed a stone.
This is safer, I told myself.
Quieter. Less drama.
So why did it feel like losing something?
I slipped into my seat near the back of the classroom just as Mr. Calloway clapped his hands.
"Good morning, scholars! Today we begin your term project."
A collective groan filled the room.
"This project," he continued, ignoring the suffering, "will count for forty percent of your final grade."
Groans turned into panic.
"You'll be working in pairs."
That's when the real noise started.
People twisted around in their seats, already choosing partners. I kept my eyes on my desk.
No eye contact. No volunteering. Invisible.
Mr. Calloway raised his voice. "Pairs have already been selected."
The room froze.
Names started being called out.
"Harper and Elise."
"Daniel and Marcus."
"Sophia and—"
My fingers curled tightly around my pen.
Please just give me someone normal. Quiet. Unroyal.
"Lara Bennett… and Adrian Cole."
The world actually stopped.
Like, physically paused.
Then every head in the classroom turned toward me so fast I swear I heard necks crack.
I didn't look at him.
I couldn't.
"This is a joke," someone whispered loudly.
Mr. Calloway frowned. "Is there a problem?"
No one answered.
I slowly turned my head.
Adrian was already looking at me.
Not surprised.
Just… resigned.
Of course this would happen.
Of course the universe had a sense of humor.
After class, I tried to leave quickly.
"Lara."
I stopped walking.
His voice was quiet, careful, like approaching a scared animal.
"We can ask to switch," he said when I turned around. "If this makes things harder for you."
Harder?
Everything was already hard.
"It's forty percent of our grade," I said. "He won't let us switch."
"I can talk to the administration."
"Please don't," I said quickly. "That would somehow make it worse."
He almost smiled. "Fair point."
Students flowed around us, pretending not to eavesdrop while very obviously eavesdropping.
"So," I said awkwardly, adjusting my bag on my shoulder. "Partners."
"Partners," he echoed.
A weird silence settled between us. Not like the easy one in the library. This one was full of things we weren't saying.
"I meant what I texted," I added. "About not sitting together and stuff. I don't want to make your life harder."
"My life was already hard," he said quietly. "Now it's just… complicated in a different way."
"That's not exactly comforting."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "Sorry. I'm not great at motivational speeches."
I huffed a small laugh before I could stop myself.
There it was again.
That ease.
Dangerous. Warm. Easy.
"We should focus on the project," I said, forcing my voice back to practical. "Keep it academic. No gossip material."
"Strictly professional," he agreed.
"Library after school?" I asked, then immediately winced. "Wait— no. That's a bad idea. That's literally how this started."
He nodded. "Public space, then. Study hall. Cameras everywhere. Very unromantic."
My heart tripped over that word.
"Good," I said quickly. "Unromantic is exactly what we want."
His eyes met mine, something unreadable flickering there.
"Right," he said.
But neither of us sounded convinced.
By the time I got home that evening, the school gossip page had already posted:
"Guess who got paired together for the biggest project of the term? Fate or setup? 👀👑"
Under it was a blurry photo of us talking outside class.
I stared at the screen, exhausted.
This wasn't just a project.
It was a spotlight.
And now we were stuck standing in it together.
I tossed my phone onto the bed and covered my face with my hands.
Three years, I had told myself.
Stay invisible.
Instead, I'd been at this school for less than a week…
And somehow, I was already partnered with a prince.