Winning
Page 22
Is there no indignity I’ll be spared tonight?
I pull some crumpled bills from my purse and thrust them in her direction. In return, she slides me a ballot. “Voting ends at eight,” she says. “There’s a box on each table to collect them.”
There is music thumping through the gym, and a medium-size group of kids dancing near the DJ. I feel eyes on me from every direction. This is not me being paranoid, either. People are watching, and they are whispering, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t second-guessing my decision to come.
Not that I let any of this show. To all those who are observing, I am my normal social self. Smiling, waving to “friends,” making small talk.
I spot Matt across the room, chatting with Bobby and Ivy. Ivy, wearing a dress and shoes I picked out for her. Wearing makeup I paid for. Sporting a hairstyle that my former best friend gave her.
Ivy sees me before Matt does. She smiles and waves. Matt turns to see who she’s waving at. When he realizes it’s me, he turns, giving me nothing but back.
So that’s how it’s going to be.
I consider taking a lap around the room. I want to know what people are saying about me. I can’t change the story until I do.
But before I get very far, Sloane cuts me off at the pass. “You showed,” she says, not without admiration. “I’m impressed.”
“Not now,” I say, pushing past her.
She calls out after me, “Have fun tonight!”
I have never felt so humiliated in my entire life.
It is nearing seven thirty, which means I only have to stick around for another thirty minutes. Sixty tops, depending on how long it takes them to tally the votes. I’ve decided I’ll stand to the bitter end, until that crown lands on someone else’s head.
No one talks to me.
Not a single person.
At eight, Taylor comes around to collect all the ballot boxes. It’s almost over. The wait. Thirty minutes from now, the king and queen will be announced.
Over in the corner, I spot Erin Hewett. She’s all alone, too. At least, I think she is.
But then I see her. Sam. She, too, is wearing a dress I picked out. She looks prettier than I’ve ever seen her. Happier, too.
In a second, I find out why.
Because there they are—Erin Hewett and Samantha Schnitt—kissing each other, right there in the middle of the Homecoming dance.
Son of a bitch. I didn’t see it. How did I not see it?
At exactly nine o’clock, Constance Frick takes the stage to announce this year’s Homecoming court. First, it’s the senior class prince. That honor goes to Tyler Moses. Then, she announces the princess.
That honor goes to me.
This is worse than winning nothing at all. Because now it’s clear that I am the runner-up. Now I have to stand on a stage and watch someone else take my crown.
Frick calls my name again. I have to take the stage. There’s no getting out of this now.
Next, Frick announces the king. It’s Matt, of course. He stands there, wearing a purple-and-gold plastic crown and holding an equally hideous plastic scepter. He doesn’t look at me. He may never look at me again.
“And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” Frick says, looking downright cheerful. “Your Homecoming Queen for this year is . . . Ivy Proctor.”
The crowd explodes. Of course they do. Of course.
Ivy locks eyes on me as she walks up the steps to the stage. I want to look away but can’t.
“Thank you,” she mouths. I fight the urge to rip out all of her hair with my teeth.
It hurts to watch Frick place the rhinestone tiara on Ivy’s head, instead of mine. But I don’t show it. I smile and clap and act like this is everything I wanted. She may have won, but I’m still claiming the moment.
The music starts for the King and Queen’s dance. I watch Matt take Ivy into his muscled arms and I choke back a sob. Tyler reaches for my hand, gentleman that he is, and we join them on the floor.
It is the only dance I’ll dance tonight.
As soon as the song has ended, I make a beeline for the door. Enough is enough.
But before I leave, I take one last look around the room. Sam and Erin are dancing together, and nobody seems to care. Sloane is dancing with James Leitch, and no one seems to care that she’s pressed up against a freshman either. And there’s Queen Ivy, tucked into Bobby Jablonski’s embrace.
Looks like everyone got their happy ending. Everyone but me, that is.
It won’t be easy, fighting my way back.
But I know I can, and I know I will.
I am—and always will be—Queen Alexandra Miles.
Winner.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I want need to thank my editor, Kristen Pettit, who never stopped believing that my words were worthy of being read. Working with you again has been an amazing experience. In fact, it never quite feels like work—more like fun. Always.
I’m grateful to the wonderful staff at HarperCollins, including Elizabeth Lynch, Veronica Ambrose (who, quite literally, is my favorite copy editor ever), Sarah Creech, Alexandra Rakaczki, Elizabeth Ward, and Gina Rizzo. Thank you all so much for the care you put into this book.
To my patient husband, who encouraged me to take on this project, and who cheered me on every step of the way, I say this: you are made of awesome.
And for Wendy Kinna, who’s not only the best friend a girl could have but also the best beta reader ever—thank you for helping me find my ending. Again. And for loving even the most unlovable of characters every bit as much as I did. You deserve a tiara of your own.
Finally, I need to give shout-outs to my favorite writing partner, Carolee Kunz; my friend and mentor, Cruce Stark; and my lovely and talented Aunt Barbara, from whom I got the writing gene in the first place. I adore you all.
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About the Author
By day, LARA DELOZA works for the International Literacy Association, a global advocacy and membership organization dedicated to advancing literacy for all. By night, she writes books for tweens and teens. In her spare time (what’s that?), she likes to cook tasty things, watch too much television, and read until she can’t keep her eyes open. Lara lives in Delaware, where she grew up, but you can find her online at www.rhymeswithmascara.com.
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Credits
Cover art and design © 2016 by Sarah Creech
Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
WINNING. Copyright © 2016 by HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2015952520
ISBN 978-0-06-239669-3 (trade bdg.)
EPub Edition © June 2016 ISBN 9780062396716
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FIRST EDITION
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