Will the Real Prince Charming Please Stand Up

WILL THE REAL PRINCE CHARMING PLEASE STAND UP?

Copyright © 2014 E.M. Caines

ISBN 978-1-62135-307-2

Cover Art Designed by AM Designs Studios

For my nieces, Jordan & Morgan. May you never have trouble finding your real Prince Charming.

“The exit polls are in, guys. It’s still early, but Bianca may actually win this.”

I looked up from my salad at the lanky boy who took the seat across from me. “Exit polls?” I asked. “Finn, you can’t be serious.”

His cool cerulean blue eyes peered at me over the top of his wireframe glasses. “How often is it that one of my friends has a chance at being Homecoming Princess?”

Beside me, my friend Talia crunched into a carrot stick. “So what is she ahead by?”

I glared at her. “Don’t encourage him.”

She flipped her long ponytail over her shoulder, revealing a bright green streak in her dark hair as she grinned at me. I sighed, knowing I was defeated.

Talia Nicoletti was the only person I knew brave enough to thumb her nose at the
Westgate Prep Appearance Guidelines.
The green streak she sported was her way of coping with the birthmark on her scalp that turned a lock of hair white. It totally violated all the rules, but after her mom had a meeting with the principal last year, both of the school deans gave up, stopped calling out her blatant disregard for the guidelines, and let her get away with everything. We called it the Talia Clause. Not even her knee-high combat boots and larger-than-regulation silver hoops that day earned a second glance from the faculty. But it probably didn’t hurt to have a high-powered attorney who terrified the entire administration for a mom, either.

“Based on the thirty-five random people I asked, which is a sample size of about twelve percent, she’s up by almost sixteen percentage points,” Finn replied, picking up his burger. “It’s just outside the margin of error, but I’m really confident in my math.”

Of course he was. Finnegan Marks was Westgate Prep’s top mathlete and the only sophomore taking pre-calculus while most of us slackers suffered through geometry. Come to think of it, Finn was probably the only sophomore not taking any regular tenth-grade classes. He stood about a head taller than I did (which was significant since I was considered kind of tall at five-foot-nine) and, despite his skinny frame, was fairly athletic. He was the best shooter on last year’s JV basketball team, though he said that wasn’t as much skill as it was a basic understanding of physics and geometry.

“I’m only on that stupid ballot because you and Jake thought it would be a fun social experiment,” I said with a snort. “You really think campaigning will have any effect on who’ll win?”

“Well, there has to be a way to level the field to prove it’s possible to rig a popularity contest,” he said, sounding hurt.

“So I get to be the guinea pig?” I stifled a groan. It wasn’t that I couldn’t win the Homecoming Princess crown on my own because I was ugly or anything. I thought my boring brown eyes were a little too big for my face, I was never crazy about the way my small nose turned up a bit at the end, and I really wished I’d inherited some of my mom’s Latin curves, but my looks were better than passable.

No, I wouldn’t win because I mostly kept to my close circle of friends, and I was a pretty ordinary student. I wasn’t hyper-involved in a ton of clubs, I was only in a handful of honors classes, and I wasn’t one of those girls who guys were drooling over. I was the girl you saw walking down the hall and didn’t think twice about.

Finn held up his burger and studied it. “You have to admit, Bianca, this has been an interesting experiment. We’ll know for sure when they announce the winners at the pep rally tomorrow, but it seems our campaign has been pretty effective.”

“All your campaigning has done is make my name more recognizable.”

“Hey, those videos got, like, a couple thousand views each.”

“A couple
thousand
?” I said, mortified. “But there are only, like, three hundred people in our class.”

“I know.” Finn was ecstatic. “So if my calculations are right, which we know they are, the videos we posted and email blasts we sent boosted both name and facial recognition, which led to an increase in your popularity quotient beyond those of the other candidates, thus securing a win.”

“In English, please?”

“He’s saying their campaign made you more popular than the cheerleaders,” Talia explained.

He furrowed his brow. “Jake and I merely presented her as the best representative for our class.”

“How would I be representing our class? All the Homecoming princesses do is sit on their class floats and smile and wave to the crowd at halftime. A trained monkey could do that.” I pointed at Finn with my fork. “And I don’t like being your lab rat.”

“But you have to admit, Bianca,” Talia said thoughtfully between bites of her sandwich, “it would be kind of cool to win.”

“Kind of cool?” Blonde spiral curls appeared out of nowhere as my friend Ally set a tray onto the table and slid into the seat beside me. “It would be totally epic.”

Ally Katz was the social butterfly of the sophomore class and easily the biggest gossip. She had a sweet, cherubic face with large, inquisitive green eyes, and a petite but rather curvy figure. I thought she would have been a better choice for Jake and Finn’s little experiment, but the guys told me Ally was too well-known and well-liked despite (or perhaps because of) her gossip blog. It was like Westgate’s Gossip Central Station, which Ally totally took as a compliment because she wanted to be an entertainment news reporter.

“You guys are way more excited about this than you should be,” I said.

Ally beamed at me. “You do know what this would mean, right?”

“That I can expect to be splashed with a bucket of pig’s blood at the game?” I asked cynically.

“Not if I can help it,” my brother said behind me. “Besides, no one would do that to the quarterback’s sister.”

I grimaced as he reached over my shoulder and grabbed the lone breadstick on my tray. Brady liked to remind me of his accomplishments at every turn, which often meant speaking of himself in the third person. Since this past summer, he referred to himself as “the quarterback” — or worse, “the QB” — as though I was supposed to be impressed. It was bad enough that half the girls in the school drooled over him — and were angry with me for not letting them use me to get to him. But as a senior, he’d really let it go to his head. Yes, he was a good-looking guy, and yes, he was a good athlete. But sometimes it was like he’d forgotten that I’d been around most of his life.

“Hi, Brady.” I didn’t bother to turn around.

He rubbed the top of my head with his knuckles, and I swiped his hand away.

“So why would anyone want to douse you with pig’s blood?”

Talia nodded at Finn. “You tell him.”

“Bianca’s probably going to be named Homecoming Princess. She’s leading the exit polls by about a sixteen-point margin,” he announced, his voice cracking. His ears turned as red as his hair because of it, but he cleared his throat and continued. “It’s a comfortable enough lead that I recommend she starts thinking of what she should wear to the game.”

“Ooh,” Ally squealed. “Shopping!”

“She ought to think about going to the dance,” Brady said, reaching for the chocolate cake on my tray. I slapped his hand.

“You’ve been bugging me about going to that stupid dance since the beginning of the year,” I said with a scowl. I gestured to my friends at the table. “We’ve already made plans for that night.”

“A James Bond marathon hardly counts as making plans. You guys do that all the time.”

“Not all the time,” Finn said, adjusting his glasses. “This would only be our fourth one.”

“Fine, but you do stupid movie marathons all the time.”

“Are you still bugging her about going to Homecoming?” a familiar voice behind me said.

I turned and beamed at Brady’s best friend, grateful for the support. “Hey, Tim!”

My brother lifted his chin toward Finn. “Marks over there said Bianca’s going to be class princess.”

“That’s kind of cool,” Tim replied.

“Sure, but then she’ll be the only princess ever to skip the dance.”

“I’ve already told you I’m not going to one of those stupid dances just for the sake of it,” I reminded him. “If I ever do, I’m going with someone who likes me at least as much as I like him.”

Tim ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair and rested his hand on the back of his neck. “Leave her alone, man.”

“Yeah! What he said.” I smiled up at him.

Timothy Dorscher was like my brother. I’d known him since I was about four. He was an inch or two taller than Brady’s six-foot height, and he had these really warm brown eyes that were easy to get lost in, like a chocolate molten lava cake. His straight nose and strong, chiseled jaw along with his lopsided grin made him look older than his seventeen years.

He and Brady did
everything
together, and I was positive they could read each other's thoughts. I liked to tell my brother that he was only a good quarterback because Tim was his wide receiver and always knew ahead of time where he would throw the ball. But they disagreed as only best friends could, so I knew I could count on Tim to stick up for me whenever Brady gave me a hard time — which was often.

Brady snorted. “Whatever,” he said, taking fries off Talia’s tray and stuffing them into his mouth. “Only a loser would want to take you to Homecoming, anyway.”

Tim punched my brother in the arm before he walked away.

“Don’t you ever buy your own lunch?” Finn asked my brother.

I snickered. Very few people were brave enough to talk to Brady like that.

“Of course not,” my brother replied. “I don’t need to.” He snatched the chocolate cake off my tray and hurried after his best friend.

“Brady!” I yelled after him, my reprimand lost in the din of conversation around me. I turned to Talia. “He is so obnoxious.”

“That cake’s probably about three days old, anyway.”

Ally knocked over my soda, covering her mouth as she gasped. We all jumped up and moved our stuff away from the spreading mess. I pulled napkins off everyone’s trays and tossed them onto the table.

“You guys,” she said under her breath as she helped me wipe up the spill. “Don’t look now, but Dante is looking this way.”

And, of course, because she told us not to look, all of us — Finn included — turned our heads in search of him. Sure enough, Dante Schwartz was staring in our direction.

I didn’t know Dante that well because he ran in a different circle than mine. Even in the one class we had together last year, I didn’t talk to him much. Besides, he only went out with the prettiest girls in our class, which put him way out of my league. He was on a whole other level of cute, with dark hair that fell into piercing hazel eyes in just the right way, a narrow face, and a slight cleft in his chin. And when he smiled, he revealed these perfect, straight teeth in a way that made any warm-blooded girl’s insides melt.

Okay, so I may have spent considerable time studying his profile last year in algebra class.

“Ugh,” Talia said, looking away with a shudder. “He’s such a cretin.”

“He’s cute, though,” Ally said.

“You think everyone is cute,” Talia retorted. “Did you know he got a bunch of kids calling me ‘skunk girl’ all throughout middle school?”

“Schwartz is a jerk,” Finn declared as he sat down and returned his attention to the half-eaten burger before him. “He goes around acting like he’s God’s gift to the girls of Westgate or something. I don’t know what any of you see in him.”

Talia made a face. “
I
don’t see anything in him. In fact, I can’t stand him. If he’s God’s gift, then I really hope He attached a gift receipt.”

I laughed, but I stole another glance over my shoulder at Dante. His eyes locked with mine before he grinned. I caught my breath and offered a shy smile in return before I looked away.

The din in the gymnasium grew louder as more students streamed through the doors and piled onto the metal bleachers. Talia, Finn, and I were perched at the top of the Sophomore Class section, searching the crowd for Ally.

“Check out Jake,” Talia said, pointing down at the band members in the front rows of the Freshman Class section across from us. She laughed. “He’s totally bored out of his mind.”

I craned my neck as I tried to look through the people coming up the steps. Finally, I spotted Jake DeSantos sitting on one of the benches. He tapped out a beat onto his seat with the drumsticks in his hands while his disheveled moptop of hair bobbed to a rhythm I couldn’t hear from my seat. He’d been playing for as long as I’d known him; drums were a good outlet for his pent-up energy. It meant there were weekends when we didn’t hear from him at all, though, usually because he was holed up with his band, Ephemera. They were okay, I guess. I didn’t go to a lot of their shows, but Talia went to rehearsals and stuff. That was much more her scene.

“I see Ally,” Finn announced as he stood and waved his arms frantically in the air.

Talia tugged at his shirt and motioned for him to sit down. “I’m pretty sure she sees you.”

“Sorry, guys.” Ally was out of breath as she plopped onto the bench beside me. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of Sandra to check on our class float and see what still needs to be done. And I swear, with that girl’s extracurriculars, I have no idea how she keeps a four-point-oh.”

“It’s a four-point-two,” Finn said as he gazed out into the crowd. When we all stared at him, he looked at us and blinked. “What? It’s weighted on a five-point scale.”

There was a general sound of shushing throughout the gym as Mr. Hamilton, our school principal, shuffled to the middle of the basketball court with microphone in hand. He was a tall but portly man with a shiny head that probably hadn’t seen hair in decades.

“Is this thing on?” he said into the microphone, turning to look at members of the AV Club behind him. Upon hearing his own voice and the shrill sound of feedback, he chuckled. “I guess so.”

For most of the people who didn’t play sports or care much about our teams, pep rallies were nothing more than an excuse to get out of class. Talia and I were among the indifferent, which annoyed Ally to no end. She often said the school spirit between us wouldn’t be visible under one of Finn’s microscopes.

I wasn’t surprised to see a lot of my classmates glued to their phones and ignoring Mr. Hamilton as he droned on about the greatness that was Westgate. Our principal liked to boast of our school’s exclusivity, even to those he said were lucky to be among its student body. He began with reminders to avoid the construction site marring our otherwise pristine fourteen-acre campus, but then he really lost my attention when he started talking about “the generous contributions made by business leaders from Playa del Lago, whose ties to the Los Angeles entertainment community made it possible to expand the Westgate Film Program.”

Blah, blah, blah. It seemed like forever before he finally turned the microphone over to the coaches.

After about twenty minutes of the fall sports teams’ introductions, Mrs. Goldberg, the student council moderator, got up to announce the Homecoming court. Ally poked me in the arm and motioned for me to pay attention, but I shook my head. By then, Talia and I were in the middle of a heated game of checkers on our phones.

I was just about to jump over three of her pieces when Finn snatched my phone out of my hands.

“Hey!” I cried.

“You’re up by sixteen percentage points,” he said. “Listen up so you don’t miss her calling your name.”

“You could be wrong, you know.”

Mrs. Goldberg was more animated than usual. She beamed as she clutched the clipboard in her hands, her long, gaunt face glowing with excitement as she read from the list before her. “Your Freshman Homecoming Princess is—”

“My math is never wrong,” Finn said, offended.

“Nikki Dougherty!”

The freshman and JV cheerleaders all squealed as a tiny blonde girl jumped up from the JV squad and rushed to the center of the basketball court. She covered her nose and mouth with her hands, but her genuine surprise and excitement were evident as Mrs. Goldberg placed a tiara onto her head and a sash across her body.

“I’m not saying your math is wrong.”

“This year’s Sophomore Homecoming Princess is—”

“No?” His blue eyes flashed defiantly.

“You could have asked the wrong people or—”

“Bianca Sullivan!”

My head jerked up at the sound of my name.

Finn was smug. “You were saying?”

Ally gasped and nudged me to stand up. “Get down there, Bianca,” she said in a rush. “Hurry!”

I blinked in surprise a few times before I made my way down the bleachers. My classmates’ excitement must have been infectious because by the time I was at the bottom of the steps, I was practically jogging to get my crown.

From where I stood on the edge of the Westgate Prep seal in the middle of the basketball court, I could see everyone, and it was a little overwhelming. While I accepted my sash and tiara, I saw Brady fish his phone out of his pocket to take a picture of me. Beside him, Tim’s smile was infectious. When I turned to look at everyone on the other side of the gym, Jake flashed a broad grin and held two thumbs up.

And, yeah, Talia was right. It was pretty cool.

Monica Young bounced up off the varsity cheerleaders’ bench amid more excited screams and stood beside me when her name was called as Junior Homecoming Princess. She quickly composed herself and waved to her class as she glided across the gymnasium. I noticed she also covered her nose and mouth with her hands when her name was called, just like Nikki did, and wondered if that was something I was supposed to have done, too.

“Congratulations, girls!” she whispered excitedly to both Nikki and me as the three of us posed for a couple of photos.

Mrs. Goldberg announced the King’s Court next, reminding everyone that we would all be voting for one of them to be Homecoming King. When Brady’s was the first name she called, I groaned though the rest of the student body cheered.

Nikki gasped beside me, as if scandalized by my reaction. “Brady Sullivan’s our quarterback,” she chided me. “Of course he’ll be nominated!”

I looked down at her, which was necessary because she was barely five feet tall. “Sure, but he’s my brother. And his head is big enough already.”

Brady enveloped me in a big hug once he got to the center of the court. “Haven’t I always told you that you’re a princess?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, “when you’re making fun of me!”

He laughed and kissed me on the cheek before moving to Monica’s left.

The next names Mrs. Goldberg announced were like a Who’s Who of the senior class. I applauded politely as the student council president, the captain of the swim team, and the captain of the basketball team joined my brother.

Mrs. Goldberg’s radiant smile never faltered. If anything, she looked more excited than she did when she first began.

“And last, but certainly not least—”

I grimaced. I hated when teachers said lame things like that in attempts to build suspense.

“Timothy Dorscher!”

I blinked in surprise before I joined Nikki and Monica in cheering as Tim left his teammates on the bench. From the look on his face, he wasn’t expecting to hear his name, either.

Like Brady, Tim came up to me first and kissed my cheek.

“Congrats,” he said, loud enough for only me to hear.

“You, too,” I whispered. He smiled down at me before he turned to high-five the other guys.

Nikki nudged me. “How do you know Tim Dorscher?” she asked, her eyes wide.

I laughed. “He’s Brady’s best friend.”

“He’s so cute.”

I shrugged but nodded in agreement.

Mrs. Goldberg started talking about the tradition of selecting the Homecoming Queen and what an honor it was for the girls who were nominated. I was getting restless and didn’t feel like smiling anymore. I probably looked like the most sullen princess ever, especially compared to my fellow princesses, but I didn’t care. Nikki had been jumping up and down so much that I wondered how her hair managed to stay in that perfect blonde ponytail, and Monica’s flawless smile never faltered, her teeth shining against her milk-chocolate complexion as she maintained her regal posture.

I tuned out Mrs. Goldberg as she read the names of the five Homecoming Queen candidates, but once Amy Crawford hugged her friends and stood in the middle of the gym with us, I realized I was the only girl on the homecoming court wearing a plaid Westgate Prep uniform skort and
not
a cheerleading skirt.

Though this fact seemed to validate the hypothesis of Jake and Finn’s social experiment, it was still oddly disconcerting.

Mr. Hamilton didn’t let us return to our seats but rather kept us standing in the middle of the court until the end of the pep rally. By then, my jaw was tired from forcing myself to smile. Thankfully, as the students began clearing out of the gym, I was able to let my facial muscles relax. It was short-lived, though, because Jake rushed toward me.

“Bee!” he yelled as he picked me up and twirled me around.

“Gah!” I screamed until he set me back onto my feet.

“So it looks like our little experiment worked.”

I laughed. “I guess. Though Brady would say it’s because I’m the quarterback’s sister.”

Jake looked up thoughtfully. “Hmm,” he said. “That might have been mentioned in one or two of the emails we sent to all the sophomores.”

“Great,” I said. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“So,” my brother said as he put his arm around me.

I let out a heavy sigh. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll go to your stupid football game.”

“Very funny,” he replied, tugging my hair. “What about the dance?”

“What about it?” I asked in an unsuccessful attempt to skirt the question. When he looked meaningfully at me, I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m not going,” I said. “I have plans. Remember?”

Jake held up his hands and took three steps back when Brady glanced at him. “Don’t look at me, man. Ephemera’s got a gig that night.”

My jaw dropped. “Really?”

How did I not know this?

“Oh, yeah.” He took the drumsticks from his back pocket and started drumming the air around him. “Battle of the Bands.” He tossed a stick into the air and caught it in his hand. “I think we have a chance.”

“But the marathon!” I protested.

He shrugged, his mouth turned in a guilty frown. “Sorry.”

I saw that Ally, Talia, and Finn finally made it down the bleachers and were heading our way, but Brady kept his arm around my shoulder and wouldn’t let go. “It’s still a week away, you know,” he said, squeezing tighter.

“Ugh,” I groaned, shaking free from his grip. “Why won’t you drop this? I don’t want to go!” I peered around his immovable body in search of help. “Tim!” I called.

“What’s up?” he asked as he joined us.

I pointed at Brady. “Will you please make him stop?”

Tim understood immediately. “Dude, seriously?” he asked my brother.

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, you’re obviously not helping, so back off, man.”

Brady looked at us both, sighed, and held up his hands. “Fine. Whatever. It’s dropped.” He walked away.

Tim turned back to me and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You okay?”

I nodded. “I don’t know why he’s being so weird.”

“He’s Brady. Who knows why he does anything?”

“You do.”

He looked away and lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Maybe. Sometimes.”

I touched his arm. “Thanks again for running interference.”

“Any time,” he replied with a grin. He paused for half a second, as if he wanted to say something else, before he turned and headed toward my brother and the rest of the football team.

“I told you my math is solid!” Finn exclaimed, throwing his arms around me.

“Yes, you did,” I conceded. “And Talia, you were right. It was pretty cool.”

“I figured it would be.”

“Ooh, I like your tiara!” Ally said, reaching for it. “May I?”

“Sure.” I plucked it off my head, losing some of the pins Mrs. Goldberg had hastily shoved into my hair when she crowned me. “Oops.”

“It’s so pretty,” she said, admiring it from every angle before handing it to Talia so she could look at it. “Those are just rhinestones, though. You should see the tiara the Homecoming Committee got for the queen. It’s made of Swarovski crystals and cubic zirconium. It weighs a ton, but it’s gorgeous.”

“Congratulations,” a deep voice behind me said, causing me to jump. I whirled around to find Dante only inches away from me. He seemed amused by my reaction.

“Thank you,” I replied, trying to compose myself. “It was a bit of a shock.”

He nodded. “I voted for you.”

I blinked. “Really?” I managed to squeak.

He laughed, a deep, sensual sound that made me catch my breath. “You seem surprised.”

“Um, I am.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he said. “You’re really cute.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, as though it was common knowledge, and I was a bit stunned. No one had ever told me that before; I wasn’t the girl that guys thought of that way. Plus, I was sure Ally had mentioned he was going out with someone, but honestly, I didn’t pay attention to half of the stuff she posted on her blog.

“Oh,” I said. “Well, thanks.”

He grinned, and I felt my knees weaken. “So I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Um, yeah,” I said, nodding. “Okay.”

Talia cleared her throat and stood beside me as he walked away. She scowled at his retreating figure. “Ugh, I can’t stand him.”

He turned to look back at me and waved. I wiggled a few fingers in return. “I don’t know,” I said. “He seems pretty decent.”

“Well, I still don’t like him,” she said, shaking her head.

I watched him disappear into the crowd leaving the gymnasium.
I kind of do
, I thought, but I didn’t want to admit it out loud.