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"Someone elses choice doesnt change who you are."
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Casey McQuiston"Chloe Green is going to put her first through a window. Usually when she has a thought like that, it means shes spiritually on the brink. But right now, squared up to the back door of the Wheeler house, shes actually physically ready to do it. Her phone flashes the time: 11:27 a.m. Thirty-three minutes until the end of the late service at Willowgrove Christian Church, where the Wheelers are spending their morning pretending to be nice, normal folks whose nice, normal daughter didnt stage a disappearing act at prom twelve hours ago. It has to be an act, is the thing. Obviously, Shara Wheeler is fine. Shara Wheeler is not missing. Shara Wheeler is doing what she does: a doe-eyed performance of blank innocence that makes everyone think she must be so deep and complex and enchanting when really, shes the most boring bore in this entire unbearably boring town. Chloe is going to prove it. Because shes the only one smart enough to see it."
Casey McQuiston is an American author of romance novels in the new adult fiction genre, best known for their New York Times best-selling debut novel Red, White & Royal Blue, in which the son of America's first female president falls in love with a prince of England, and sophomore book One Last Stop. McQuiston made their debut in the young adult fiction genre with their book I Kissed Shara Wheeler
"Someone elses choice doesnt change who you are."
"Go outside, stay safe, be gay. Have a Shiner on me."
"Outside Kensington Palace, Alex takes Henrys phone out of his hand and swiftly opens a blank contact page before he can protest or sic a PPO on him for violating royal property. The car is waiting to take him back to the royals private airstrip. "Here," Alex says. "Thats my number. If were gonna keep this up, its going to get annoying to keep going through handlers. Just text me. Well figure it out." Henry stares at him, expression blankly bewildered, and Alex wonders how this guy has any friends. "Right," Henry says. "Thank you." "No booty calls," Alex tells him, and Henry chokes on a laugh."
"Alex clenches his jaw. Hes used to doing things that piss his mother off- in his teens, he had a penchant for confronting his mothers cilleagues with their voting discrepancies at friendly DC fundraisers- and hes been in the tabloids for things more embarrassing than this. But never in quite such a cataclysmically, internationally terrible way. "I dont have time to deal with this right now, so heres what were gonna do," Ellen says, pulling a folder out of her padfolio. Its filtered with some official-looking documents punctuated with different colors of sticky tabs, and the first one says: AGREEMENT OF TERMS. "Um," Alex says. "You," Ellen says, "are going to make nice with Henry." Youre leaving Saturday and spending Sunday in England." Alex blinks. "Is it too late to take the faking-my-death option?" "Zahra can brief you on the rest," Ellen goes on, ignoring him. "I have about five hundred meetings right now." She gets up and heads for the door, stopping to kiss her hand and press it to the top of her head. "Youre a dumbass. Love you."
"Alex wouldnt say he likes Henry, but he does enjoy the quick rhythm of arguments they fall into. He knows he talks too much, hopeless at moderating his feelings, which he usually hides under ten layers of charm, but he ultimately doesnt care what Henry thinks of him, so he doesnt bother. Instead, hes as weird and manic as he wants to be, and Henry jabs back in sharp flashes of startling wit."
"Well. It will matter, you know. It will always matter."