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I see her eyes moving around the room, and it pisses me off that she’s still naïve enough to think she’ll prove me wrong. I don’t have to look. I know from experience just how indecent people find other people’s problems.
Dixie has it right. She prints all the gossip and people love her for it, not because she’s keeping them in the loop but because she distills other people’s pain down into digestible little morsels of gossip before she serves it up for the masses to consume. I’ve seen them do it, all eyes glued to their phones for her drops onThe Teaapp.
People like gossip, and they’ll like reading about how I choked out my girlfriend at the party. Seeing it firsthand is biting off too much, a mouthful of something too raw for them to digest. I don’t have to turn around to know that every pair of eyes that meets Gloria’s will quickly turn away, pretending the moment didn’t happen, that they didn’t see her cry for help. If they acknowledge they see, they’ll have a burden of responsibility, and no one wants that.
“You thought I was some dumb little virgin, and I wouldn’t know the difference,” I snarl at Lo.
“I didn’t,” she rasps, her face starting to go red from the tightness of my grip around her throat.
“You fucking did,” I say, squeezing so hard her eyes bug out of her head. “Now stop looking for help. No one cares about you, Lo. No one except me. You’re a bitch and a liar, and no one could love you even if they tried. Right now, they don’t even envy you, which is the only thing you usually have going for you. Now you have nothing. You’re powerless, helpless, and pathetic, and they’re all embarrassed for you.”
“Don’t,” she pleads, her voice nothing but a croak now.
“See, the trick is, you have to get someone to actually care about you more than they care about their own comfort. No one cared about us after Dad died. No one cared until our music teacher called the state. That’s when we went into the system. You know what everyone else did? They looked away. When the cafeteria ladies yelled at us for trying to sneak extra rolls to take home in our pockets so we’d have dinner, they looked away. In our classes, they moved to different tables because we were dirty. We didn’t have any water to shower or wash our clothes at home for months, Gloria. Fucking months!”
My fingers tighten automatically as I speak, the rage clenching them into a fist around her frail neck.
“And then, this weird thing happened,” I go on. “They started saying I was fucking my own sister. You know why? It wasn’t because of anything we did. We’re not touchy-feely people. We weren’t holding hands or some shit. We didn’t do anything different. It was because people wanted it to be true. They wanted us gone so that they didn’t have to deal with their own discomfort, and they wanted to make us something ‘other’ so they could rationalize their disgust.”
Gloria’s face has gone an interesting shade of purple, and her body starts to shake.
“Did you fuck him?” I demand. “Look in my eyes and tell me the truth, Lo. While I was waiting for you just like we promised, were you spreading your legs like a dirty whore for that juiced-up buffoon?”
“Yes,” she mouths, her voice cut off entirely.
I think about fucking her right there, not to show everyone how weak their queen really is, but to show her that I can. Not one of them would stop me.
But I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to get it up with the mountain of self-disgust crushing me right now, and turning out to be a flaccid little dipshit who couldn’t close the deal would defeat the purpose.
Suddenly, I’m grabbed from behind and wrenched away, and Gloria falls to her knees. I fully expect Royal to be standing there when I’m spun around, but it’s Gideon Delacroix. The guy’s only a sophomore, and he’s not as big as the others, but he’s sturdier than he looks, and right now he looks like a storm cloud—wind-whipped dark hair, skin darkened with fury, dark eyes flashing like lightning.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he demands, grabbing my shirt and hauling me up in his face.
“This is between me and my girlfriend,” I say, trying to push back from him.
“The fuck it is,” he growls. “You’re choking out a girl at my party.”
DeShaun and Duke have stepped in to back him up, as if he’s the one who needs help. A minute ago, we were invisible, but the moment my hands are no longer on Gloria, I’m fair game.
“What do you care?” I snap. “Are you fucking her too?”
“Get out of my house,” Gideon says, releasing my shirt and pushing me back, his voice cold and commanding. One look at his henchmen and I know there’s no room for argument. I’m not interested in getting my ass handed to me by three big athletes, so I turn to Gloria, who’s still on all fours, her head down and her hair covering her face as she coughs and wheezes to catch her breath.
“In case I didn’t make it clear, it’s over,” I say. “I’ll never touch your skanky slut ass again.”
I turn and walk out before the guys can throw me out. Just my shitty luck, it’s raining. And of course I rode with Gloria, since she loves her car and I hate mine, and this was her stupid party.
I sit on the porch swing and open my phone.
TheseDarkWoods: emergency pickup?
FightFuckFinnegan: rn?
TheseDarkWoods: kicked out of party.
FightFuckFinnegan: u? fr? I’m impressed, little man
TheseDarkWoods: got a ride?
