by McKayla Box
Rebecca takes several pictures then collects our crowns, explaining that she'll have them at the dance tomorrow night.
The dance.
I haven't even thought about it.
Dylan and Mercy crash into me.
“You won!” Mercy cries.
“Yeah,” I say, laughing. “How the hell did that happen?”
“I may have orchestrated an underground campaign to bring you to victory,” Dylan says. “Maybe.”
“You did what? What about Brooke?”
“She had my permission,” Brooks says. “She bribed and threatened quite a few people, I think.”
“And it worked,” Dylan says. “I have a future in politics.”
I laugh, still bewildered at what's happened. The gym is starting to empty out and I look around.
Archer is standing near one of the doors with Nick and Aidan. He nods, then looks in my direction. Our eyes meet and butterflies take off in my stomach.
And then he looks away and walks out of the gym.
Chapter 48
“Hey, liar. Did you rig it?”
It's after school and I'm waiting in the parking lot for Mercy. I went to lunch with the girls and then made it through my afternoon classes, as people I've never met keep coming up and congratulating me. I'm exhausted when the final bell rings and I'm happy to walk outside and wait for Mercy.
Until Reese shows up.
“Of course she did,” Fallon says. “How else does a troll win?”
“There's no possible way all of those people voted for her,” Bree says. “No way.”
I don't say anything and look at my phone.
“Liar,” Reese says. “We're talking to you.”
I don't say anything.
“Bitch, are you deaf?” she asks. “Are you deaf and a liar?”
I look at her. “If you call me that again, your friends are going to be helping you clean blood off of your pretty little cheer outfit.”
“How'd you do it?” she asks. “Did you pay someone?”
“I literally don't care enough to ask one person to vote for me,” I tell her. “I think it's more likely that people just hate you so much they'll vote for anyone besides you.”
Her perfect little cheeks turn pink. “You wish.”
“Do I?”
“I'll bet people voted before they knew you were such a liar,” Fallon says.
“Maybe we should ask for a recount,” Bree says.
“You can do whatever you want,” I say. “I could not care less.”
“What else are you lying about?” Reese says. “First, we find out you don't have a dad.” She steps in closer to me. “What else are we going to find out about you?”
I can feel the anger rising inside of me. I just want her to close her mouth. Or close it for her.
“I'm going to look,” she says. “I'm going to dig and dig and dig until I find something. Because I know there's something. Once a liar, always a liar.”
I drop my phone and bag to the ground, then I shove her as hard as I can. She stumbles backward into Bree and Fallon, who manage to make sure she doesn't fall. Her eyes are wide and her cheeks have moved from pink to red now
“You wanna fight?” I ask. “Let's fight. But I don't think you have it in you, Reese. Prove me wrong.”
Her eyes are still wide, but she's not moving.
My hands are tight fists at my sides. I know I'll fight her and I know it'll end badly for both of us in different ways. But I am so tired of her threatening me and calling me names and treating me like I'm a disease. If fighting her ends it, I'll deal with the consequences.
“She's not worth it,” Fallon finally says.
“Yeah,” Bree mutters.
They are offering their friend an out.
Maybe not as dumb as I thought.
I pick up my bag and phone from the ground. As I stand back up, I see Archer crossing the lot toward his truck.
I take a deep breath.
He and I need to talk.
And I have to be the one to initiate it.
I look at Reese. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
Then I head for Archer.
Chapter 49
“Hey!” I yell. “Archer!”
He turns and looks in my direction. But he doesn't stop walking and when he sees it's me, he looks away and keeps heading for his truck.
“Archer,” I say, jogging in between the cars. “Wait.”
He doesn't wait. He keeps walking until he gets to his car. He climbs in and tries to close the door.
Except I'm in the way.
“Move,” he says.
“After you talk to me.”
“Move,” he says again.
“I'm not getting out of the way until we talk.”
“I don't have anything to say to you,” he says.
“That's fine,” I tell him. “I just want you to listen.”
“I don't have anything I need to hear,” he says. “Maybe go find King Heath and talk to him.”
“Come on,” I say. “Don't be like that.”
“Be like what?” he says. “I'm just saying that maybe you two should start spending more time together.”
“What?” I ask. “Are you jealous?”
“Hardly.”
“I just wanna talk.”
“And I just wanna leave,” he says, reaching for the door. “So get the fuck out of my way.”
He pulls hard on the door and I have to jump out of the way. A moment later, the engine roars to life.
But I'm not letting him go that easy.
I sprint around to the back of the truck, yank down the tailgate, and after two quick tries, manage to hoist myself up into the back of the truck bed. I crawl forward in the bed, pushing his surfboard aside, then bang on the back window. He turns around startled.
“I'm not getting out of here!” I yell. “Until you talk to me.” Then I stand up. “So if you wanna drive, then drive!”
“Get the fuck out of the truck!”
“No!”
The engine roars and the bed vibrates. I brace myself against the back window, thinking he's going to back up.
He hits the pedal again and the engine groans.
But I hold my ground.
Finally, he slides open the back window. “Get down.”
“No.”
“Get down and get in the truck,” he says. “I'll talk to you so you'll stop acting like a fucking maniac.”
Chapter 50
“I lied about my relationship with my dad,” I say. “I'm sorry.”
We're sitting in the parking lot at the beach. I got into the cab at school and we drove in silence to the beach, which is okay because it allows me time to figure out what to say to him. He is behind the wheel, staring straight ahead at the ocean.
“I don't have an excuse,” I say. “Not a real one, anyway. It's just one of those things I've always done.” I look at him. “I've never met him. Not once in my life have I met him. He left my mom before I was born. He's the true sperm donor. My mom rarely talked about him and after awhile, the only time I gave him any thought was when people asked where my dad was.” I look down at my lap and my hands are shaking against my thighs. “And I know that people look at me differently when I tell them I don't know my dad. In elementary school, kids would make fun of me. In middle school, girls would whisper about me. So I just got to a point where I never brought him up in any way, shape, or form. And then at some point, I just decided I'd let people assume whatever they wanted.” I pause. “But I've never really lied about him until now.”
He shifts in his seat, but he's still looking at the ocean and not at me.
“I move here and everything is seemingly perfect,” I continue. “Perfect houses, perfect families, perfect beaches. Everything is better here than it is anywhere I've ever been. I don't know anyone and it's already weird because I'm living with my grandparents and it's my senior year. The last thing in the world I want is to stick out m
ore than I already do. And in my head, I convince myself that technically I'm not lying. I did leave my parents. It's just that I have no idea of who or where he is.”
I pause to catch my breath. My hands are still shaking and my stomach is knotted up and my heart is pounding inside my chest. I wish he would look at me, but I can't make him.
“I didn't count on making good friends with Mercy and Dylan and Brooke,” I say. “I honestly thought I'd be this loner kid trying to get through senior year. So it didn't feel like any big deal when I tried to gloss over my dad. I didn't think anyone would care.” I pause again. “And I sure as hell didn't count on you.”
He shifts again in his seat, but doesn't look at me.
“The last thing in the world I want you to think is that I'm a liar,” I say. “I am sorry for not telling you the truth about him or for making it seem like I was telling you some story that wasn't true. I was worried what you and everyone else would think about me. Like always. And, yeah, that's my issue, not yours.” I pause. “But I just want you to know that I'm sorry. And I guess that's all I wanted to say.”
He finally looks over at me. There's still no expression on his face. “Okay.”
I wait for him to say more, but there's nothing.
“You want me to take you home?” he asks.
“That's it?” I say. “Okay and a ride home? You don't have anything else to say to me?”
“No. You were the one who wanted to talk.”
I know that I have no right to complain. I'm the one who created this. But it hurts that he has nothing else to say to me. I want him to tell me that it's okay or yell at me or something.
The indifference is the worst.
I shake my head. “Fine.” I push open the door and slide out. I grab my bag from the floor and sling it over my shoulder.
“I said I'd give you a ride home,” he says.
“I heard you,” I tell him. “I don't need one. And I guess I don't need you.”
“What exactly do you want from me?” he asks.
“What do I want from you?” I ask. Then I laugh because I can't believe he's even asking. “I don't know. Maybe I want you to listen to me and tell me it's okay. That you understand that sometimes we do stupid shit even when we don't want to. Maybe I want you to ask me more about how fucked up I am because I've never had my dad in my life. Maybe I want you to think that this really isn't about you. And maybe I just want you to act like you give a shit about me.” I shake my head. “But I sure as shit don't need a ride home from you.”
I slam the door shut and walk across the lot, across the street, and away from both the beach and Archer Hays, tears streaming down my face as I go.
Chapter 51
“My goddamn hair is acting up again,” Dylan says. “Hand me a curling iron.”
It's Saturday night and we're at Mercy's house. We've already been to the football game and done the whole introduction thing at halftime. My grandparents escort me out to get my crown and I stand up there, plastering on a smile I don't feel. After the game, we drive back to Mercy's to get ready for the dance. We are all crammed into the bathroom attached to Mercy's bedroom.
Mercy hands over the curling iron. “Your hair looks fine.”
“Bullshit,” she says. “If I'm gonna hook up tonight, my hair needs to look better than this.”
“Your hair doesn't matter,” Brooke says, leaning closer to the mirror and touching up her mascara. “You've got boobs. Someone will hook up with you. It doesn't take much.”
“Not sure whether that's a compliment or a jab,” Dylan says. “But I want to choose who I'm hooking up with, not get stuck with the leftovers.”
We all laugh. Or, at least, I try. I'm not feeling very celebratory. I've felt numb for most of the day and I'm not looking forward to the dance. There was a window of time where I thought it would be this amazing night because I'd be with Archer. But now it feels anticlimactic and I don't even want to go. If I didn't have to show up for the stupid royalty thing, I wouldn't. I'd be at home, eating ice cream in bed.
“You're quiet,” Mercy says, glancing at me. “You okay?”
“I'm fine,” I say. “Just...tired, I guess.”
She eyes me carefully. “I'm sorry he's a dick.”
“They're all dicks,” Dylan says, moving the curling iron through her hair. “All of 'em.”
“Yep,” Brooke says.
“I know,” I say. “I guess I'm just ready for all of this to be over.”
Mercy comes over and hugs me. “I get it. And it will be soon. But I promise, we can have a good time tonight. We don't need guys to have a good time.”
“Speak for yourself,” Dylan says.
This time I really do laugh. I'm happy that they listened to me and aren't holding a grudge.
But I also know I'm going to have to tell them the truth about my mom. Not tonight. But soon.
And I wonder then if they'll still want me around.
Chapter 52
Archer isn't here.
We're in the gym at school and you can barely tell it's the gym. It's been completely transformed with lights and decorations and balloons and tables and chairs. It truly looks like a ballroom. Even the baskets that are raised to the ceiling have been covered. A lot of work has gone into what it looks like and I realize it's not very cool of me to be all sullen when a lot of people clearly care about this. So I'm trying to turn my mood around.
But Archer is nowhere to be found. I've been looking for him since we got there. I'm not sure why. I just want to see him before we are all introduced to the crowd.
But I can't find him.
People are coming up to me still, congratulating me, and telling me how nice I look. I thank them, try to remember their names, and return the compliment. I'm not sure if I'm doing a good job of faking it all, but I'm trying.
The girls drag me out to dance for a while. The music is loud and it's crowded, but we have fun. I have fun. I'm able to let go for a little bit.
Then they make an announcement for the homecoming court to report to the far side of the gym. I go with Brooke to where they direct us and Rebecca gives us a quick overview of what's going to happen.
And Archer is nowhere to be found.
Rebecca and her assistants get us in order. Then she looks down the line at all of us. “Where's Archer?”
No one says anything.
Reese is busy examining her nails.
“Nick,” Rebecca asks. “Where is he?”
“No idea,” he says, shrugging. “Not his keeper.”
Rebecca sighs. “Fine. Whatever. We'll do this without him.” She looks at Reese. “You won't have a dance partner. Sorry.”
Reese's face flushes. “That's fine. I didn't wanna dance anyway. This is all such bullshit.”
Maybe there's one good thing about Archer not being there after all.
The music stops and someone hands Rebecca a mic. We go through the same routine we went through at the pep rally and halftime of the football game. We all know what to do and when she calls my name, I step forward, smile, and wave, grateful that it's the last time I'll have to do it. I can finally go back to being normal.
Whatever that means.
“And now if we could have all of the royalty out on our dance floor,” Rebecca announces. “For the traditional homecoming court dance.”
And that's when I realize it's not over.
Because I have to dance with Heath fucking Rogers.
Chapter 53
It's all I can do to not vomit all over him.
I stand as far away from him as I can as we dance. I know I look stiff and ridiculous, but I don't care. Anything is better than being close to this asshole.
“What a treat for you,” he says.
His breath smells like beer. Again.
“Nightmare you mean,” I say.
He laughs. “Whatever, honey. This is, like, the universe telling us we're supposed to be together. You just haven't figured it out yet.”
<
br /> “Oh, I've figured it out,” I tell him. “The day we're together is the day I'm dead because that's the only opportunity you'll have to get this close to me ever again.”
“So rude,” he says. “So uptight. I could totally help you loosen up if you'd let me.”
“I'd rather fuck a rusty nail.”
“You're just pissed because your boyfriend didn't show,” he says. “Guess he likes you so much that he had no need to see you tonight. With your attitude, can't say I blame him.”
It would be so easy to knee him in the nuts. But I know doing that, in the middle of the gym, beneath the spotlight, will just bring more attention. I just need to suck it up and let it go so I can let all of this go.
“I wouldn't stay hung up on him if I were you,” Heath says. “Archer runs through chicks like a mower through grass.” He smiles down at me. “You were just another blade, honey.”
I hate that his words hurt, but they do. They cut in a way I don't want them to. And I can't stop them.
“But, listen,” he says, lowering his voice. “I can make all of it go away for you, Nola. We can just go outside, get in my car, and pick up right where we left off. I promise it'll make you forget everything you're worried about. You'll fucking love it.”
Tears are stinging my eyes and I look down at the floor. He has hold of my hand and his other arm around my waist. I just want the song to end so I can get away from him and everyone else.
“Move,” a voice says.
I look up.
And Archer is standing there.
Chapter 54
He's clean-shaven and his hair is as neat as I've ever seen it. He's in a traditional black and white tux and he looks like he just stepped out of a magazine.
“Fuck you,” Heath says. “We're dancing.”
“Move or I will shove that crown up your ass in front of everyone here,” Archer says. “And you know I'll do it.”
Heath's jaw quivers for a second and then he lets go of me. “She's trash anyway. All yours, dickhead.”