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Jeanne Galletta Is Actually a Princess

After school, I headed back to the cafeteria to help Mr. Adell wipe down filthy tables. The bacteria bucket didn’t seem as gross the second time around. I guess my standards had gone way down.

At least this time there were no Princesses watching my every move. Or so I thought.

“Georgia?” Jeanne tapped on the glass door.

I ignored her. Which wasn’t easy, by the way.

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I yanked the door open. “What do you want?” I didn’t sound too friendly, I guess, but I didn’t care. I scanned her hands to make sure she wasn’t holding any revenge pudding.

“I, uh, I wanted to let you know that Missy, Bethany, and Brittany don’t want your band to play at the dance—”

“Whatever,” I said, but Jeanne kept talking.

“—but I told them to get lost.”

“You—what?” I was so surprised that I dropped my smelly sponge.

Jeanne looked over her shoulder, as if she were afraid someone might be spying on us. “I know Missy has… uh… personal reasons for not wanting you to perform. But she needs to get over it.”

“Yeah,” I said. I was a little unsure how to respond. Jeanne was doing me a favor, but it was a favor that I wasn’t sure I wanted. Still, it was nice of her. “Um, thanks?”

Jeanne nodded and turned away. She started for the door, then stopped and turned back. “Georgia, the other day, when I told you I liked your hair?”

“Yeah?” I narrowed my eyes.

“I just wanted you to know that I was serious,” she said. “I can’t stand Missy,” Jeanne added. “I wish I’d had the guts to pour pudding on her head.” Then Jeanne pushed open the door and walked out.

I stood there for a moment, watching her walk away.

My opinion of Rafe had just shot up about ten miles. Of course, it started out about fifteen miles below the surface of the earth, but still… maybe his taste in friends wasn’t so bad after all.

Maybe he was the only person who knew a real princess when he saw one.

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