Curvy Girls Can't Date Princes
Chapter One
FAITH
“OUR FOREIGN EXCHANGE STUDENT IS A
PRINCE,” Mom said.
My entire family stood in a small circle, huddled
in a corner of the airport near the baggage claim.
And this was the moment my mother chose to tell us
that our new foreign exchange student, the one we
were moments away from meeting, was not only a
boy but royalty as well?
My brother Mark spoke first, looking dumb‐
founded. “Huh?”
No one could accuse him of being eloquent, but
then again, my four older brothers weren’t exactly
known for their book smarts. No, they got attention
based on good looks and charisma. Neither of
which I had.
Mom looked over her shoulder to make sure no
one was listening in on us. Of course no one was.
Everyone else was too wrapped up in their own
travels to notice our weird family huddled up like a
football team. “Headmaster Bradford asked our
family specifically to host him because he trusted
our integrity to keep his identity a secret.”
My oldest brother, Ken, laughed. “Good one,
Mom.” He looked at Dad. “How did you talk her
into pranking us?”
Our mom was about as no-nonsense as a person
could get. Dad didn’t play much either, preferring
work and amiable banter to practical jokes.
“It’s not a prank,” Dad said, his face serious.
“This young man is counting on us to have a hassle-
free nine weeks at an American school before he
goes back to Laughlin.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Laughlin? He’s the
Prince of Laughlin?” We’d just studied the small
country in my geography class. About a hundred
years ago, parts of Scotland and England had
broken off to form their own nation. The family
who had taken over the small country was known
for the humanitarian way they ruled over and cared
for their people. If I ever went to college, Laugh‐
linian politics would be a topic worth studying.
My other brother Garrett seemed angry. “Why
are you telling us now, ten minutes before we meet
the guy?”
Dad gestured at Ken. “Ken was meeting us
here, and we wanted to tell you all at the same time.
So I need each and every one of you to promise me
you will not tell anyone, not even your friends, who
Leo really is. Okay?” He looked at each of us,
staring us down until we agreed to staying silent.
“Good,” Mom said. “His flight should be
landing any minute now, so let’s move closer to the
carousel and give him a warm greeting. His family
and his country are putting a lot of trust in us to
watch over him, and I want to make sure we do a
good job.”
I noticed something other than nerves in Mom’s
speech. Pride. She was proud our family had been
especially chosen for our perceived virtue. Surely,
she’d be telling her grandchildren one day what a
great family we had and how much of an honor it
was to host the future king of Laughlin.
I searched my memory, trying to remember
anything I could from our geography class about
the royal family. The wife had studied literature in
college. The husband had volunteered abroad, even
though he was from another country and had no
possibility of advancing. He’d simply done it from
the good of his heart.
And their children... children. There was more
than one, right?
Then I realized I could just be googling this. I
got out my phone to search while we waited, but
Mom gave me a glare hot enough to melt my elec‐
tronics.
“What happened to no telling your friends?” she
said. “We just talked about this and you’re already
texting them?”
“I’m googling him,” I said. “I just want to
know—”
Next to me, Garrett said, “Is that him?”
I looked around for someone about my age
coming in with the rest of the passengers and
noticed Leo instantly.
He had light brown hair just long enough to be
parted and swept to the side atop his head. His skin
lacked the golden tan typical for this part of the
world, and instead, it was almost porcelain and
perfectly clear of the cystic acne I suffered from.
Leo walked like he had been trained to do so his
whole life, with straight shoulders, an easy gait, and
his eyes ahead. His lips curved upward at the
corners, a slight smile permanently on his mouth.
Mom held up the sign that said LEO BATES. A
pseudonym, I now knew. The royal family’s name
was Williams.
As he caught sight of the sign, his lips spread
into a practiced smile, wide and beaming. Drawing
closer, he lifted his hand and said, “Are you the
Kelleys?”
“That’s us,” Dad said, extending his hand.
Leo took it in his own and said, “Nice to meet
you, Mr. Kelley.” I didn’t know what I’d been
expecting from his voice, but it wasn’t this lyrical
blend of a Scottish and British accent that made my
knees weak.
“I’m Clayton,” Dad corrected, speaking just as
loudly as always. Either he was losing his hearing or
years talking to customers on the car lot had made
him immune to the volume of his own voice. “This
is my wife, Janine, our sons Ken, Garrett, Mark,
Paul, and then our daughter, Faith. She’ll be in your
grade at Emerson Academy.”
Leo nodded at us, his eyes sliding over me as
though I was just another person in the crowd.
Why did it hurt that his gaze hadn’t lingered?
Why had I expected anything different?
He was a prince.
And me?
I was just another curvy girl.
