Free Who Made You a Princess? by Shelley Adina Page A

even if all we were talking about was school.
    “So what concentration are you working on?” he asked me. “If Carly’s is history and Brett’s is math?”
    I lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Technically, it’s an individual concentration, but what that works out to is economics.
     They’ve let me build my own out of math, political science, and history.”
    “In order to do what?” Carly asked. “Sounds brutal.”
    I nodded. “It is, but it’s interesting. My dad runs this massive petroleum company. I haven’t really talked it over with him,
     but I figure once I bag my M.B.A. at Northwestern or Harvard Business School or Stanford, I can go to work for him.”
    “You’re really looking out there into the future.” Brett bit into his kosher pickle. “I figure I’m doing good knowing when
     midterms are.”
    “Yeah, I worry about those, too. What about you, Rashid? What do you want to do?” The second the words were out, I wanted
     to kick myself. What else was he going to do but run a country?
    He smiled at me in a way that made me feel as if my question wasn’t so stupid. “A ruler must know many things. Politics, economics,
     languages. I am here for two reasons. One is to take a term of computer science, with tutoring every week from experts in
     Silicon Valley. I plan on a doctorate from Oxford in political science, even though my father would rather I went into the
     military.”
    “I’d stick with Oxford,” Brett said.
    “We are in agreement.”
    “What’s the second reason?” I asked.
    Rashid smiled at me. “To see my childhood friend again, of course. I am glad to see we share an interest in politics and economics.
     I do not doubt you will be running your father’s company when I am running my father’s kingdom.”
    I had to laugh at the thought. “Maybe when we’re fifty. But first things first. College apps and scores and all that red tape.”
    “Let’s not talk about that,” Carly said. “It’s Friday night, we’re out on the town with two hot men, and we can sleep in tomorrow.
     It doesn’t get better than that.”
    “Yes, it does.” Brett patted the chest pocket of his jacket. “I happen to have four tickets to Luna’s, if anybody feels like
     going.”
    “Who’s playing?” I demanded, hardly able to believe it. Luna’s brought in the coolest acts for intimate performances. People
     lined up for blocks, but you either had to be on a list or have a look the bouncers liked. And sometimes even that didn’t
     work. Then another thought hit me. “Not that it matters. You have to be twenty-one to get in.”
    “Not on nights they don’t serve alcohol. Which would be tonight, because it’s a family show.”
    “Whose family?” Carly asked.
    “Oh, just the Dylans.” Brett grinned as album covers flipped in our heads.
    “Dylans,” I said. “As in Bob and Jakob?”
    “Yep.”
    Carly and I shrieked and leaped up to hug him. I knew for a fact that show had sold out to subscribers before the box office
     even opened. I’d never seen Bob Dylan live before, and how cool was it that being in the prince’s party made sure we had seats
     on the edge of the stage?
    The evening was like something out of someone else’s life. I mean, I’ve had some pretty good seats at concerts before. Season
     tickets on the court at Bulls games. But I’ve never been escorted to my table by the club manager himself, or been taken backstage
     to meet a legend and his son at a whispered request.
    When we finally fell into the limo at one in the morning, chattering a mile a minute while the final encore still played in
     my head, I had to conclude that dating a prince definitely had its perks.
    The limo pulled up at Spencer’s front steps. As I got out, I felt like Cinderella coming home after the ball, or, to use one
     of Lissa’s sci-fi references, Luke coming back to boring old Tatooine after saving the galaxy.
    The prince and the BGs climbed out after me. After a second, I