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I don’t know why it pisses me off to see them together. They make sense. They’re both dangerously attractive. Gloria Walton’s been with lots of guys, and Maverick’s not exactly known for his discernment when it comes to hookups. Why wouldn’t they fuck?
I tell myself it’s just because Maverick’s my safe space, something that was mine when I had nothing at Willow Heights. Now that snake is winding herself around him, infiltrating even the parts of my life I kept safe from her poison touch, the parts that were just for me.
But why shouldn’t she do that too? She’s no better than me now. She’s a leper at school. Dixie destroyed her, and apparently Maverick’s as ready to catch her when she fell from the throne as he was to catch me all those years ago.
“Why do you defend that guy?” Dixie asks. “He’s so far beneath you. He’s only hurting your reputation more.”
I snort. “I don’t think I have a reputation to hurt.”
“Hmph,” she mutters. “Well, he’s definitely got a reputation, so this is perfect. Another black mark against Gloria’s name. She’s making it almost too easy.”
She gives a smug grin and sets her phone down after driving the latest nail into Queen Gloria’s coffin.
“I don’t like this new side of you,” I say, tossing some bills down on the table. “It’s mean.”
“Are you serious right now?” she demands. “I’mmean? You’re talking about the queen of mean. Gloria’s been a total bitch to you for years.”
“And now you’re acting just like her,” I point out. “Actually, worse. For the last two years, you’ve claimed she’s your friend. The second she shows weakness, you’re first in line to obliterate her entire life?”
“She did the same to you!”
“She never claimed to be my friend,” I say. “The opposite, in fact. I always knew she was the enemy. And I still wouldn’t do what you’re doing to her. You don’t kick a dog when it’s down.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she says, counting the money to make sure she approves of the tip I left. “Guys fight different. This is what girls do.”
“I don’t think it’s a girl thing,” I say. “I’ve seen that malicious glee in Duke’s eyes. I just never thought I’d see it in yours. What you’re doing is sick, Dixie.”
“Why are you attacking me?” she cries, her eyes suddenly shiny with tears. “And defending Gloria Walton? Is it because she’s hot? Because I can’t play the little sad girl like she can?”
“I think you play that role just fine.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending her,” she says, looking at me with those wounded eyes. “After what she just said. She’s trying to break us up, Colt! Don’t you see that?”
“Why would Gloria try to break us up?” I ask, giving her a look to show her just how crazy that sounds.
“Obviously she’s jealous,” Dixie says, widening her eyes at me. “I took away the thing she loves most—her status. She’s trying to get back at me because she knows you’re the thing I love most.”
It should make me feel good to hear that, but the words feel more like a noose tightening every time she says them. I’m lucky to manage a breath at this point, and it’s only by Dixie’s beneficence that I’m allowed that luxury. Hearing my girlfriend say I’m the most important thing in her life shouldn’t feel like quicksand, but I’m not sure how to fix that, especially when the quicksand forms around me every time I remove myself and walk away.
“Wouldn’t she just try to get her status back if that’s what she wants most?” I ask.
“Oh, she will,” Dixie says. “Trust me. That’s why I have to make sure to keep digging up dirt on her to make sure that doesn’t happen. Just watch. I bet she’ll be groveling hard tomorrow.”
Yesterday, I might have cracked some joke about her wanting to break us up so she could have me, but after last night, it’s not quite so funny. I glance at Dixie, wondering how I could have been two seconds from fucking someone else if I love my girlfriend as much as I try to convince myself I do. Guilt threads through my thoughts again. If Gloria hadn’t freaked out, I’d be sitting at this table confessing my sin to Dixie.
I would have fucked her, no doubt about it.
I would have, and this would all be over.
I’m not prepared for the swell of regret that comes with that thought. It makes the guilt even harder to bear when I realize I’m not sorry about my encounter with Gloria. I’m only sorry it stopped when it did.
Guess it’s official. Like everyone at school thinks, I am shit.
*
“So,” I say, sliding into the chair opposite Gloria the next morning, laptop in hand. “You and Maverick, huh?”
“What about it?” she asks, her tone bored, her eyes never leaving her laptop screen.
