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“So, is the Goblin Queen going to tell me her deep, dark secrets now?” I ask.
“What do you want to know?”
“Something no one else knows.”
She watches me for a second, then swallows and looks back at Duke. “I never wanted to be queen,” she says quietly, hugging her knees to her chest. “They chose me. I never chose them.”
“Aw, is the crown heavy on the poor princess’s head?” I tease.
“You should know,” she says glumly. “You used to wear it.”
“I do know,” I say. “It was the happiest time of my fucking life. You think I’m going to feel sorry for you because you didn’t ask to be popular? You still have everything—everything you took from me. You know what I’d give to have it all back, even if I couldn’t change the dead girlfriend part?”
“I thought you of all people would understand.”
“I understand you perfectly,” I say through gritted teeth. “But don’t fucking pretend you understand anything about me, Prom Queen.”
She doesn’t answer. For a while, we sit in silence, watching our tragic, beautiful monster dancing in the light of the rising sun. All I can think is, what a damn waste. What a waste we all are. The people who died are the ones who should have lived. None of us deserve it.
When the sun comes up, we finally climb down. Gloria already texted Baron that she took Duke home so he wouldn’t come looking. I wonder if he looked for me, if he’s pissed he didn’t get to murder someone tonight.
I’m sure he’ll have other chances.
I walk them back to Gloria’s Mustang. “You’re wrong, you know,” she says, stopping in her open door.
“Undoubtedly.”
“I’m just like you,” she says. “But inside out.”
Before I can ask, she slides into her seat and closes the door.
“Time to pay the piper,” Duke says over the top of the car, giving me a toothy grin.
“Not now,” I say. “You’re fucked up.”
“Seems like the perfect time to me.”
I raise a brow. “So we’re going to stop pretending now?”
“You owe me,” he says, glowering at me. “You don’t get to decide when I come to collect.”
I give him a cool look, refusing to drop his gaze. “Get in the car, Duke.”
He doesn’t move for a long minute. Finally, he grumbles, “You owe me,” again.
When I stand there staring him down without answering, he yanks open the door, throws himself into the seat, and slams the door so hard the whole car rocks on its wheels. I shake my head and walk away.
At home, I find Dixie in my bed, fast asleep. I crawl in next to her. She murmurs in her sleep and throws her leg over me. I’m exhausted, but I can’t get out of my head long enough to fall asleep. When I’m too frustrated to try anymore, I prowl downstairs and out onto the back deck. We live on a couple acres, so it feels secluded even though we’re on the outskirts of Faulkner. It’s a chilly fall day, but the leaves are still on the trees, surrounding me with a collage of lemon and lime, rust and honey. I sit in one of the chaise lounges, laying back and watching the handful of leaves that drifts down every time the wind blows. I know I’m lucky to have all this, even now.
Pulling out my phone, I thumb it on.
I scroll through my contacts, trying not to do the thing I know I shouldn’t. I should go back inside and jerk off to my fantasy of the girl in Cotton Montgomery’s pool house. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about the hot girl and started being about me, about that being the last party where girls like that wanted to fuck me. She seems pale and insignificant now, the ghost of a paper doll.
I barely remember her. Instead, all I can think about is the last girl on earth I should ever want to fuck.
I toss my phone down and reach for my wallet, wanting to unfold the pictures and look at them, just for a minute. They’re not a faded dream from years ago. They’re real, as real as tonight on that roof, with my finger inside her and the way she wanted more…
She wanted me.
