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“Because everyone already knows I’m the shit,” she says, cracking a grin.
“No one will think you’re the shit if you hang out with Gloria,” Dixie says, finally putting her phone down. “She sits on the floor at these guys’ feet like a literal dog. It’s pathetic. You already gave up leading the rebellion, so people think you’re weak. If you associate with her? Yeah, you might as well consider yourself done here.”
Harper shrugs. “I don’t really care what people think. I’m used to being underestimated.”
“Why don’t you just sit with us?” Dixie asks. “I’m the queen of the rebellion. It’ll look good for us to stick together. She’s just the D-boys’ whore now. Did you know they call herGlory Hole? To her face!” She can barely get the next words out through her giggling. “And she answers. Can you imagine?”
“Yeah, I’m more into judging people by what they do, not the labels other people put on them,” Harper says, leveling Dixie with a cool look. “Lo’s loyal as shit and had my back the other day, which is more than I can say for you.”
“Are you for real right now?” Dixie asks. “You’re going to choose Lo over me just to be petty because I didn’t want to help you find your boyfriend who almost murderedmyboyfriend?”
“I’m not being petty,” Harper says, planting a hand on her hip and looking cool as shit staring down my girlfriend. “I’m matching energy. Lo showed up for me. You didn’t.”
“She treated you like shit last year,” Dixie points out, her cheeks going red. She’s not used to being called out. Most people wouldn’t risk embarrassing her, since she could humiliate them a hundred times worse on the blog. But trust Harper to tell it like it is and shrug off the consequences.
“She made fun of my clothes,” Harper says with a shrug. “It was more childish than hurtful. I’m not some sniveling little bitch who cries victim when a few harsh words are thrown her way—especially when they’re true.”
“What about the rebellion?” Dixie asks. “You started it for the exact purpose of taking down the elite. You’re finally succeeding.We’resucceeding. I took down the queen. She was the first to fall. You’re really going to stop at one person and just give up?”
“Except she’s not elite,” Harper says. “She never had power here. And the rebellion was never about Gloria—except maybe for Rylan. I just wanted to take down the D-boys and all they represent. Which, ironically, is now what you represent.”
“Damn,” I mutter, reaching for Dixie’s hand, knowing she’ll be pissed if I don’t defend her or at least show solidarity.
She stares up at Harper, her lower lip wobbling, her eyes wide. I’ve seen that look enough to know the tears come next, but as I watch her do it for someone else, a tingle of unease runs along my spine. She doesn’t blink, forcing her eyes to stay open until they start watering, and suddenly, I wonder if all the times she’s done that to me when she wanted something have been a performance.
“Whatever,” Harper mutters with an awkward shrug, clearly not buying into the tears but not completely unaffected, either. She and Dixie were friends, after all. “It was cool to start something that could break the Dolce chokehold on the school and call out the admin at the same time. But I was trying to change things, not take their place. I already tried that, and it wasn’t for me. I’m a lot less interested in turning into the assholes we were fighting against after seeing how it works from the inside.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dixie protests, swiping at her eye. “You know me, Harper. I’m not an evil bitch or a stick figure cheerleader. I’m totally different. I’m one of the good guys, but I can make more change from the inside.”
“Yeah, seems like one of those ‘the call is coming from inside the house’ things to me,” Harper says. “Plus, you outed Gloria in your blog. Even if she wasn’t my friend, you can’t expect a bi girl to have your back after you do that shit.”
“I didn’touther,” Dixie cries. “She’s not even gay!”
“You implied she was,” Harper points out. “You said she hooked up with girls.”
“Because she did,” Dixie says. “Those girls deserve to be heard too. Am I only supposed to tell one side of the story, because you happen to be friends with Lo?”
“Sorry, not buying it,” Harper says. “You weren’t telling anyone’s story. You were trying to make Gloria look like a slut by saying she’d been with girls too. Which is a bigger problem thanyou, but if you need someone to help you secure the queer vote, it ain’t me, babe. Try Josie.”
She turns and walks off, her wild mane swinging behind her.
Dixie immediately picks up her phone and starts checking for comments on her new post like nothing happened. I’m about to start eating when a murmur goes around the room, and I turn to the door to see my wet dream standing in the doorway to the café. Her feet are planted wide, clad in a pair of black motorcycle boots. Her jeans are ripped. Her black leather jacket hugs her shoulders, and her blonde hair ripples forward on one side, while the other side is shaved. Her lips are some shade of purple, and her eyes are smudged with black. She looks like a punk rock goddess, and it takes me a full thirty seconds of gaping to scrape my chin up off the floor.
She marches in and drops in across from Harper, and my brain finally registers that it’s Gloria Fucking Walton. She’s still recognizable even without the full face of makeup, especially since I’ve seen her more natural at Bye Week every year and sometimes the other races, but my mind refused to accept that someone so evil could look like that. If she was hot as hellfire before, god damn. She’s volcanic now.
“Oh my god, can you be any more obvious?” Dixie hisses, throwing a hard elbow into my arm. “You’re supposed to be my doting boyfriend, not gawk at other girls.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, shoving my hand in the pocket of my jacket. I finger the soft fabric of the panties I took from Gloria that day at the mall, the ones I haven’t been able to bring myself to throw away no matter how many times I remind myself she’s the devil. But then, I always did like playing with fire.
Guilt gnaws at me when Dixie’s eyes fill up with tears again, and I quickly shove the panties deeper into my pocket and shrug off my jacket. Dixie keeps cursing me under her breath,which is warranted, even if she doesn’t know the full extent of my betrayal. I try to eat, but the food tastes like sawdust. I shouldn’t have those panties in my pocket. I shouldn’t have them at all. I should never have touched Gloria Walton, even to prove I could, even to humiliate her out of some sick need for revenge. It didn’t work anyway. It only made me want more.
I get an earful from Dixie for the rest of lunch as she bitches at me for not defending her against Harper’s accusations, so I must believe them, and for gawking at Gloria like that, so I must think she’s hotter than my girlfriend. She keeps a smile plastered on her face though, so anyone looking over to whisper about the party gossip will see us as the happy couple she wants us to be.
By the time she’s satisfied that everyone’s seen us, lunch is over. I slip out the side door on the way out, relieved for the break. I used to love the spotlight, the attention and admiration. Three years ago, I would’ve eaten that shit up. It never felt like pressure back then. It felt like love.
Then again, I was the very definition of young, dumb, and full of cum. Devlin certainly didn’t revel in it the way I did. He felt the pressure as the oldest, and even Preston had his own burdens as the heir to Darlings & Sons legal practice. I was the youngest of the three, the bastard child, and maybe I was irrelevant in my grandfather’s eyes because of that, or more likely, he wanted to punish my father for his indiscretions by treating me like I was. But that turned out to be a blessing as well as a curse. It gave me a freedom no one else in my family had.
Freedom to bask in the benefits of my family name without any of the burdens.
