She tried not to think of how much Marshall would love that Hawaiian shirt.
Sam’s costume, though, was the real showstopper: a hot-pink dress that screamed eighties prom, with ruffled sleeves, a poufy skirt, and a giant bow at the waist. Aunt Margaret was the only person in their family who could ever have purchased such a gloriously neon masterpiece.
The tables and chairs of Arbor House’s dining hall had been stacked against one wall to create a dance floor, where students in poodle skirts and fringe dresses, bell-bottoms and skinny ties, were already crowded. Glittery balloons clustered at the ceiling, their ribbons floating back and forth whenever someone opened the main doors and let in a current of air.
Sam caught sight of Nina across the room, wearing a flapper dress and a peacock-feather headpiece. Without another word, she began walking—really, sprinting—toward her.
“Nina! God, am I glad to see you.”
She couldn’t say anything more, because tears were pricking at her eyes, but no more words were needed. Nina just nodded and pulled her into a fierce hug. “I’m sorry about Marshall,” she whispered.
When they stepped apart, Sam’s eyes drifted over Nina’s shoulder, then widened in surprise. Jeff and Daphne were headed over, both smiling broadly.
Jeff looked outrageous in a white tuxedo, complete with a blue bow tie and cummerbund that were covered in sequins. Daphne, meanwhile, was as coolly chic as ever in a short dress made of interlocking gold discs. With her high ponytail and oversized gold earrings, she belonged in a 1960s issue of Vogue.
Sam hadn’t even considered that Jeff might be coming to Nina’s college party; she’d just assumed she would catch up with him at the palace later, bully him into sharing her midnight pizza. And she’d certainly never imagined that Daphne would come to an on-campus party in a dining hall. Perhaps Daphne wanted to keep an eye on Jeff in case any college girls tried to throw themselves at him.
“Sam! I’m so glad you’re here,” Jeff said eagerly.
Then Sam watched, stunned, as Daphne turned and said something under her breath to Nina. And Nina laughed.
Before she could react, Jeff grabbed her hand and Daphne’s, tugging both of them toward the dance floor. “Come on, this is my favorite song!”
They danced in a delightfully jumbled group—Sam, Nina, Jeff, and Daphne. Nina’s friends Rachel and Jayne floated in and out of their circle, everyone laughing and letting their dance moves become increasingly absurd. They tried the punch, which, as Sam had expected, was far too sweet, though Jeff proclaimed he loved it and downed three cups.
The best part was, no one bothered them. There were a few excited whispers, a few people elbowing one another in excitement, but no one came over and said anything, or asked for a photo. Jeff hadn’t been lying when he’d said that the other students at King’s College generally let him be.
Sam tried to enjoy the moment. She was surrounded by people who loved her, wearing a silly costume, and singing along so loudly she felt hoarse. Yet her smile kept slipping.
Nina, sensing her mood as always, grabbed her arm. “I need some fresh air. Come with me?”
Sam hesitated, but Nina had already started through the crowds, dragging Sam insistently after her.
When they stepped into the cool night air, Sam let go of the relentless enthusiasm that had been carrying her all night. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and sighed.
“Want to talk about it?” Nina asked.
They were standing at one corner of a darkened quadrangle. The colonnades were empty, though Sam heard the thump of the bass from the dining hall.
The morning after Marshall had ended things, Sam had tearfully called Nina and rehashed the entire conversation. So she didn’t say anything more about the breakup. She just leaned against one of the pillars and confessed, “I miss Marshall.”
Nina nodded. “I know. You really loved him.”
“I still love him!” Sam burst out. “That’s the thing about love: you can’t just turn it off when it becomes inconvenient, like flipping a light switch. It’s not that easy. I mean, how long did it take you to get over Jeff?”
A strange look darted over Nina’s face. “What?”
“After you and Jeff broke up, how long did it take you to fall out of love with him?”
“Um…I’m not sure,” Nina said evasively.
Sam tugged at her tulle skirt, which rustled loudly. “I hate that things ended like this. I obviously wouldn’t want Marshall to give up the dukedom, but that doesn’t change the fact that I miss him. I haven’t heard from him all week,” she added.
“Don’t you think it’s better this way? A clean break?”
“It’s not clean,” Sam exclaimed. “It’s all muddled and confusing. I wish I could talk to Marshall, but I know I shouldn’t call him.”
“Aren’t you going to see him at the photo shoot soon?” Nina reminded her.
“Yeah,” Sam said hoarsely. “But it’s not like I’m going to walk up to him and ask what’s going on in his head.”
Nina hesitated. “Even if you did talk to Marshall, I’m not sure it would help.”
“What do you mean?”
Nina tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, causing the peacock feather on her headpiece to sway. “Sam,” she said gently, “I love you, but you will never know what it’s like to be a person of color dating a member of the royal family.”
Sam felt heat rise to her cheeks. “You’re right,” she said clumsily. She should have asked Nina about this long ago. “I…can you help me try to understand?”
Nina leaned her hip against the stone archway. “You know how people are always judging you without having met you? They come to an opinion about you based on some stupid tabloid headlines, and then if they ever do end up meeting you, it’s not with an open mind. No matter what you say, it just reinforces the opinion of you that they’ve already formed.”
Sam nodded. She’d been America’s flighty, unreliable party princess for years, and most people still thought of her that way—in spite of the grueling royal tour she’d done this summer, in spite of how much she’d grown up.
“Imagine it like that, but a million times worse, because I’m not a princess or white,” Nina said bluntly. “The moment people meet me, they’ve already made a snap judgment about me based on the color of my skin. That was what made it so hard to date Jeff—because now it wasn’t just a few racist people in my own life judging me, but every last troll on the internet. They put me and my family under the microscope in ways I couldn’t have imagined.”