2009
Re:Hi
Lissa gave me your e-mail so I hope you don’t mind me invading your inbox. Funny to think that just a week ago we were hanging
out on the beach. Hope school’s going OK. Also that you don’t mind me joining your prayer circle by video. I felt like we
were all connected and I wanted some way to keep feeling that. I’ll give Lissa the YouSendIt link for the next one.
So…I’m curious. You hang with believers and go to church and prayer circle, but from what I can tell, you’re not a believer
yet?
Yet
is a pretty hopeful word though:)
I haven’t forgotten what you said on the beach. You know, when I was leaving. I was so surprised that I didn’t have an answer,
even though you deserved one. It takes me a while to think things through. Drives Kaz nuts sometimes.
So, bottom line, I’ve been thinking about you. Maybe we can get to know each other this way, or I can call you. However you
want to play it, I know one thing. I’ll be praying for you.
Your friend (I hope),
Danyel
----
Chapter 6
I ’ D BEEN MEAN to the prince. We’d been friends once. We weren’t now. So throw me in the dungeon.
I was still in a mood on Wednesday as I left core class (U.S. History, which is the catch-all where they put me because I’d
designed my own curriculum) and headed to second-period math. Maybe my blues had as much to do with him as with spending the
previous evening reading Danyel’s e-mail and watching his new prayer video over and over again with the sound turned down
so Carly and Mac wouldn’t hear, and then seeing Rashid crossing the quad this morning after breakfast with DeLayne Geary,
who just happened to be going to the library at the same time.
Like she ever went to the library for anything but the latest issue of
Vogue
.
What was I going to have to do to get Danyel’s attention and make him think of me as more than just “your friend, Danyel”?
Date a prince?
Oh, ha-ha. That Shani, what a joker.
And then, what do you know, Rashid himself walked into the math classroom and took the seat across the aisle from me. One
of his bodyguards took up his stance outside the door, feet planted and hands clasped loosely in front. The other stood against
the rear wall of the classroom. I’m sure this was totally creeping out the faculty, but Mr. Jackson, the math teacher, ignored
both of them and got down to business.
When he assigned us some statistics problems to work on after the lecture, I made the mistake of glancing to my left. Rashid
smiled, as if he’d been sitting there watching me and waiting for me to look.
“I apologize if I offended you,” he whispered. “As we were eating together yesterday.”
“We were not
together
.” I glanced toward the front, but Mr. Jackson was busy helping someone. “And you didn’t offend me. I—I’m sorry I snapped
at you.”
“I accept your apology.” He sounded so pleased, I almost wished I hadn’t. “Please do me the honor of joining me today.”
“I, um—” What was the protocol for turning down royalty, anyway? How come they didn’t teach us
that
in etiquette? “I usually just eat with my friends. You’re welcome to join us, if you want.”
“Miss Hanna, is there something you want to share with the class?” Mr. Jackson materialized in front of me, his school tie
lying limply down his shirt, as if it had given up all hope of style years ago.
“No, sir,” I said.
“Then kindly stop the chatter and get on with your work.”
“Mr. Jackson, it was my fault,” Rashid said. “I asked her a question and she was obliged to answer.”
Jackson looked flummoxed. Because everyone knows that if a prince talks to you, you
are
obliged to answer. You can’t just ignore him. I mean, wars have broken out over that kind of thing.
“Right,” he said after a moment. “Please remember that I do the talking in my classroom, Your Highness. I’d appreciate it
if you’d confine your remarks to solutions to
Re:Hi
Lissa gave me your e-mail so I hope you don’t mind me invading your inbox. Funny to think that just a week ago we were hanging
out on the beach. Hope school’s going OK. Also that you don’t mind me joining your prayer circle by video. I felt like we
were all connected and I wanted some way to keep feeling that. I’ll give Lissa the YouSendIt link for the next one.
So…I’m curious. You hang with believers and go to church and prayer circle, but from what I can tell, you’re not a believer
yet?
Yet
is a pretty hopeful word though:)
I haven’t forgotten what you said on the beach. You know, when I was leaving. I was so surprised that I didn’t have an answer,
even though you deserved one. It takes me a while to think things through. Drives Kaz nuts sometimes.
So, bottom line, I’ve been thinking about you. Maybe we can get to know each other this way, or I can call you. However you
want to play it, I know one thing. I’ll be praying for you.
Your friend (I hope),
Danyel
----
Chapter 6
I ’ D BEEN MEAN to the prince. We’d been friends once. We weren’t now. So throw me in the dungeon.
I was still in a mood on Wednesday as I left core class (U.S. History, which is the catch-all where they put me because I’d
designed my own curriculum) and headed to second-period math. Maybe my blues had as much to do with him as with spending the
previous evening reading Danyel’s e-mail and watching his new prayer video over and over again with the sound turned down
so Carly and Mac wouldn’t hear, and then seeing Rashid crossing the quad this morning after breakfast with DeLayne Geary,
who just happened to be going to the library at the same time.
Like she ever went to the library for anything but the latest issue of
Vogue
.
What was I going to have to do to get Danyel’s attention and make him think of me as more than just “your friend, Danyel”?
Date a prince?
Oh, ha-ha. That Shani, what a joker.
And then, what do you know, Rashid himself walked into the math classroom and took the seat across the aisle from me. One
of his bodyguards took up his stance outside the door, feet planted and hands clasped loosely in front. The other stood against
the rear wall of the classroom. I’m sure this was totally creeping out the faculty, but Mr. Jackson, the math teacher, ignored
both of them and got down to business.
When he assigned us some statistics problems to work on after the lecture, I made the mistake of glancing to my left. Rashid
smiled, as if he’d been sitting there watching me and waiting for me to look.
“I apologize if I offended you,” he whispered. “As we were eating together yesterday.”
“We were not
together
.” I glanced toward the front, but Mr. Jackson was busy helping someone. “And you didn’t offend me. I—I’m sorry I snapped
at you.”
“I accept your apology.” He sounded so pleased, I almost wished I hadn’t. “Please do me the honor of joining me today.”
“I, um—” What was the protocol for turning down royalty, anyway? How come they didn’t teach us
that
in etiquette? “I usually just eat with my friends. You’re welcome to join us, if you want.”
“Miss Hanna, is there something you want to share with the class?” Mr. Jackson materialized in front of me, his school tie
lying limply down his shirt, as if it had given up all hope of style years ago.
“No, sir,” I said.
“Then kindly stop the chatter and get on with your work.”
“Mr. Jackson, it was my fault,” Rashid said. “I asked her a question and she was obliged to answer.”
Jackson looked flummoxed. Because everyone knows that if a prince talks to you, you
are
obliged to answer. You can’t just ignore him. I mean, wars have broken out over that kind of thing.
“Right,” he said after a moment. “Please remember that I do the talking in my classroom, Your Highness. I’d appreciate it
if you’d confine your remarks to solutions to
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