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“Sorry. I have to pee,” Tiara said.
“You’re the dumb one, aren’t you?”
Tiara’s face reddened.
“You’re one to talk,” Petra said.
“Hey! I went to Yale.”
“I could go to Yale, too, if my dad bought my way.”
“Shut up!” Harris went to hit Petra with the gun, and she karate-chopped his arm. The gun dropped to the ground. They all raced for it at once. Tiara bumped into Petra, who fell backward, giving Harris a chance to grab the gun again. He put the muzzle to Petra’s head.
“Stop it!” Tiara yelled.
“Yeah? You smart enough to stop me?”
“I …” Tiara wasn’t sure what to do. He had a gun to Petra’s head. “Um, stop it, please?”
“Please? Please?” Harris laughed. “Oh my God. You really are dumb, aren’t you?”
Dumb. It’s what everyone had said, when she’d struggled in school or asked questions that made people laugh behind their hands: “Don’t worry about it. You’re a pretty girl. You’ll be fine.” But Tiara had worried about it. She felt like someday there would be a test that didn’t involve getting an A in pretty, and she would fail it. That test day had come.
“Maybe I’m not the smartest person in the world, but at least I keep trying. I keep learning,” she said.
Harris scoffed. “Oh, so inspiring. Honestly, what do you know how to do, huh? Tell me and maybe I won’t waste you.”
“W-well …”
“Nothing, that’s what,” Harris taunted. “All you know how to do is look good.”
“Leave her alone!” Petra shouted.
“Say it: I’m dumb.”
Tiara’s eyes brimmed with tears — not because she was hurt, but because she was angry. There was something Tiara knew how to do: keep her composure under pressure. “No matter what, a pageant girl keeps her smile,” Mr. Ray Ray, the pageant coach from Tupelo, had told her once. “Even if the girl in front of you slips and falls on her bon-hooney and then catches on fire, too, you just keep smiling like nothing happened.” Tiara saw the movement in the trees and she smiled.
“Okay. I’m dumb.”
Harris seemed pleased with himself. “You sure are. You are a dumb, useless bitch.”
“Yep.” Tiara continued watching the movement behind Harris. Her smile did not falter.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing. Just keeping my composure.”
“Well, you do that, sweetheart. Any last words?”
“Not really,” Tiara said. “Just that there’s a giant snake behind you.”
Harris smirked. “You think I’m going to fall for that? You must think I’m as dumb as you are.”
The hiss wasn’t terribly loud, but it was deep and personal and very, very pissed off. The hiss coiled itself tightly around the air and squeezed out all other sound. Harris turned slowly. The snake lurched forward, hissing and drooling. Its diseased tongue flicked out like a New Year’s Eve party blower losing air. It seemed almost to smile, showing a mouthful of mottled teeth.
“Don’t take me — take them! There’s two of them! My dad was CEO! I went to Yale!” Harris squeaked.
The snake inched closer. It flicked a tongue across Harris’s face and emitted a low grumble.
