Page 67 of Passenger Princess

“Okay, but like…why is that giving you a meltdown? You had a good kiss, and now he’s being an idiot. His loss, right?” Jules asks, and I sigh. Normally, I’d agree. If it was anyonebutJaime, I’d agree. But…

“Because…" I start, then pause because suddenly, I'm nervous about admitting everything.

If I admit this, it becomes real. If I admit it to my best friends in the whole world, I can't play things off like it's just a silly little crush.

"Because...?" Harper asks.

I mumble an answer and watch a look pass between them, the split second making me so homesick that I can barely focus.

"What?" Harper asks.

"I like him," I whisper under my breath.

"What was that?" Jules asks, a small smile playing on her lips now.

"I like him," I repeat through gritted teeth.

She grins now, and I know what's coming.

"I'm sorry, one more time? I can't seem to hear yo?—"

"I like him, okay? I like a boy," I say, putting down my curling iron that I was pretending to use and putting my head in my hands.

"That isnota boy, Ava. That’s aman,"Jules says, and I roll my eyes and look at my phone again.

"Fine, I like a man. But like…I really like him."

She lets out a whistle and leans back, and finally, I let it all spill, a dam breaking after havingno oneto girl talk with for the past month or so.

"He's kind, even though he pretends he's not. I like how he's sweet with Peach and that he puts up with my bullshit. I like that he lets me flirt with him and that he really, really wants to keep me safe and not just because it's his job. I like that he wants to find a way to let me beme. And I like that he knows I'm going to be crazyand wild and a little cringey, and he doesn't care. I don't know." I pause, staring at the ceiling. "I just like him."

Silence fills the line, and with each second, my stomach gets more and more anxious, waiting for my friends to tell me how stupid this crush is, how I need to use my head and think about the real world.

"Wow, I never thought I'd see the day when Ava Bordeaux admits she likes someone for real."

"Ihaveliked people," I say with a roll of my eyes, exasperated.

"I mean, yeah, but not like…for real. Not like…this. This is different."

"Is it?" I ask, a strange mix of nerves and excitement filling me.

Maybe it's not just me. Maybe it's not all in my head, and I'm not just blowing things out of proportion because he's a hot man attached to my hip.

"It so is," Harper says.

"Yeah," Jules agrees. "So what's the problem? You like him; you kissed him, it sounds like it was a good kiss..."

Itsowas, and I'm about to confirm that when Harper speaks.

"She has to stay single," she says, and I groan aloud at the stupid fucking contract. It'sruining my life,and I mean that in the most melodramatic way possibly. "Or else she could lose the crown and the tour, and that dumb bitch would win."

I, of course, had filled my friends in more than a few times about Anne and the bullshit she's been dishing me, and they hate her potentially more than I do at this point, as all good friends do.

Are your friends really friends if they don't hate who you hate with a fiery passion?

"I mean, am I breaking my contract if I'm justimagininghim touching me? Because if so, I'm fucked." I can hear rather than see Harper's eye roll.

"No, Ava, you aren't going to get sued by thinking about fucking your bodyguard. In fact, I don't think you'll get sued for fucking him at all, just if you have a boyfriend, obviously ruining theideaof theperfect Miss Americana, the effervescent, single, unattainable, pure woman men can fantasize about."

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