by Callie Hart
If I run away now and flee the school, he wins. He gets exactly what he wants, and I am so fucking sick if Jacob Weaving winning, when what he really needs is to be punished.
“Alex? Alex, wait.”
Ahead of me, Alex halts, looking back at me over his shoulder. He checks I’m fine first, and then he peers over the tops of the heads of the other students, searching for and locating Jake and my ex-best friend. He is a storm front, ready to break and crash down upon the people who have caused me pain. The dark, foreboding look in his eyes makes even me want to shrink away from him. One word from me, and he’ll unleash hell on these people. He’ll make them hurt, and he’ll make them beg for mercy, and he won’t stop until I decide he’s done enough.
He's fought too many of my battles for me, though. It’s about damn time I fought them for myself.
“I changed my mind. We should stay. I’m sick of that bastard getting his way, every single time he acts out. We’ll just ignore him.”
Alex gives me a look, one that shows he thinks I’ve lost my mind. “Silver—”
“Seriously. It’ll be okay. We’ll let him hold court and do his thing. And Kacey can fluff her feathers and preen all she likes. The best thing we can do is to stand our ground and have a good time, no matter what.”
“Have a good time? With him breathing down your neck? You’re sure?” He’s understandably doubtful. If I were him, I’d be doubtful, too. I’ve made up my mind, though. I won’t duck and cower for anyone anymore, and that includes the guy who raped me.
I was born in this town. I have as much right as anyone else to be here tonight, and if I have to tolerate veiled threats against my life and make sure I have eyes in the back of my head, then so be it. I will enjoy prom if it’s the last thing I do. “Yes, I’m sure,” I tell him.
Alex’s conflicted expression turns to one of resolve. “All right, then. Mission: Enjoy Prom is a go. Just keep me away from that fuck, or I’ll end up knocking a couple of his molars loose, yeah?”
“Okay.”
Alex stays true to his word and refuses to dance, but luckily for me, my old dance partner is here. Kacey never danced so much as strutted around, tossing her hair and jutting out a hip every once in while. Zen could dance, but she always chose to mimic our supreme leader. I could always count on Halliday to hit the dance floor with me, though. At parties, she’d move with wild abandon, throwing her arms in the air and bouncing on the balls of her feet, pulling out cheesy moves when she felt the need, not caring what she looked like or what anyone thought. She only cared that moving her body in time to the music felt good and it made her grin from ear to ear, and so she always let herself go.
Tonight’s no exception. She whoops as we jump and laugh together, dancing our hearts out in the center of the gym’s dance floor. Her floor-length, black, extraordinarily slinky dress is a little restrictive and prevents her from performing some of her trademark moves, but she doesn’t let that stop her in the slightest.
After a while, I stop thinking about Jake and Kacey, and I just…dance. It feels incredible. Halliday’s blonde hair swings around her as she spins, and she looks like she’s about to float away from sheer happiness as we crash into each other, laughing at the top of our lungs.
I’m so glad I let her back in. Things are never going to be exactly the same as they used to be, but this, right here, is a moment of joy, and I miss sharing moments of joy with Hal. We used to have them on a daily basis.
“God, could they be any more obvious,” she pants, as the song dips. She looks over in the direction of the boys, who are both leaning with their backs against the wall closest to us, watching us with a fevered energy in their eyes. Not one word of conversation passes between them. Both Alex and Zander are fixed on us, as if we’re the only two girls in the room.
I laugh when Alex raises a questioning eyebrow at me. I know what that eyebrow means. He wants me naked in a dark room, with his teeth gouging into my skin. The dirty little freak.
“They love us,” Halliday purrs, amusement dripping from her words. “They love us, and they want to marry us. God help them, poor souls.”
I fight the urge to laugh. “Uhh…” I’m not the girl who runs around, squealing, holding out her hand for everyone to accidentally notice the gargantuan rock flashing on her ring finger. I’m not even the girl who secretly whispers her news into her friend’s ear. I’m the kind of girl who says nothing and acts as though everything’s normal, until someone finally notices the fact that she’s wearing an engagement ring all on their own.
Halliday’s not the most observant person usually; she’s always away with the fairies. She must be on high alert tonight, what with Kacey prowling around by the refreshments, glowering at us out of the corner of her eye, though. She sees the look on my face, and then somehow manages to put two and two together. She looks down at my hand and takes an exaggerated step back, clutching her hands to her chest.
“Oh my fuck. What? What the fuck is that on your finger, Silver Georgina Parisi? Get the hell out of town. Is that an engagement ring?”
Sweet lord. She’s practically yelling. I’m too scared to look around and see if anyone heard her. “Shh! Yes. It’s an engagement ring.”
“God, I wish I’d convinced Zen to come tonight. She should be here for this. Wait, how the hell did this even happen?” Halliday squeals again, even more high-pitched and excited.
“He asked. I said yes.” It’d be cool if we could keep this conversation simple and move on as quickly as possible, but I know Halliday better than that. She’s going to want details. The minutia of an event as colossal as a proposal is bound to be very important to Halliday “He was very romantic,” I offer, hoping that alone will be enough to stave off her questions.
“How romantic? What did he say? What was he wearing? What were you wearing? Oh, shit, I think I’m about to have a heart attack.”
“Take it easy, girl. One thing at a time. Remember to breathe...”
“Huh. Would you look at this,” a chillingly familiar voice says. The sound of it reminds me of knives being sharpened, their edges honed to vicious points. “How small-town trailer park of you, Silver. Hitched before graduation. Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You always were just so…basic.”
Kacey Winters is standing right behind me.
If I turn around now, I’ll come face to face with her, and I’ll be forced to look her in the eye. No doubt I’ll be forced to endure more of her cutting remarks, too. The excited smile that was plastered all over Halliday’s face a moment ago has frozen into some sort of horrified rictus of panic. She looks like Kacey’s turned her to fucking stone.
“Well? Aren’t you going to say hello, Silly? It’s been a while. Haven’t you missed me?”
Slowly, I pivot on the point of my heels, dragging out the movement, wishing with every part of me that the Ice Queen of Raleigh High will somehow have disappeared by the time I’ve rotated a hundred and eighty degrees. Unfortunately, my wishing does no good. She’s there all right, standing in front of me in all her manicured, blown out, plucked, buffed, and polished glory. Her jet-black hair is longer than it was before she got shipped off to Seattle. And she looks skinnier. So skinny that her cheekbones protrude too far out of her face, creating hollows in her cheeks. It wouldn’t be a good look on most people, but Kacey, with her porcelain skin and her cool eyes and her rosebud mouth it makes her look annoyingly chic. Old habits die hard; she must have been sticking her fingers down her throat again.
I look her in the eye and take a weary, tired breath. “No. I haven’t missed you, Kace. No one here’s missed you. Take a look around. Does it look like Raleigh High fell apart without you?”
I’m just being honest, but I see the stab of hurt in Kacey’s eyes. I’ve touched a raw nerve. Such a fucking narcissist. She can see that life went on without her after she was banished from Raleigh…and she fucking hates it. From the disgusted scowl she sends Halliday’s way, she also despises the fact that her mi
nion made friends with me again, the moment her back was turned.
“So this is why you stopped replying to my texts?” she spits. “Because you were busy sucking up to the school whore? Pathetic, Halliday. Really fucking pathetic. I thought you kept better company. But then again, I guess you’re used to hanging out with whores now that you are one too, right? Dancing at the Rock? I mean, aren’t all of those strippers essentially prostitutes?”
Attacking Halliday and calling her a whore, for trying to keep a roof over her family’s heads? That is not okay. “Shut your nasty mouth and fuck off, Kacey. You’re tiring. You’re so fucking tiring, and we’ve had enough. Being your friend was a literal prison sentence, okay? And we’ve more than served our time. You’re irrelevant now. Your bitching and your catty jabs are just boring. So…go away.”
Pure, cold, distilled hate shines brightly out of Kacey’s cool blue eyes. “You think now because you’ve got yourself a hot bad boy fiancé, you’re untouchable, Silver?” she says. “You think your loser trailer park boyfriend somehow makes you better than us? Than me?”
“Alex has nothing to do with this.” It takes all of my strength and then some to stop myself from rising to her comments. She’s baiting me, trying to anger me, but I have more control over myself than that. I know what Alex is worth, and so does he. That’s all that matters. “I’m not better than you because of who I’m dating. I’m better than you because I’m not a venomous, cold-hearted, disloyal bitch who turns on her friends and hurts everyone around her, because she’s afraid that they might somehow outshine her.”
Kacey runs her tongue over her teeth, like she’s trying to get a bad taste out of her mouth. With a dawning sense of realization, it occurs to me that our little spat is being observed now. The music’s still blaring out of the PA speakers, but the dancing has stopped. My classmates, once subjects who suffered under the bootheel of Kacey Winters, have all gathered around and are listening intently to what’s being said.
I don’t give a fuck what they hear. I don’t give a fuck about their opinions, or who’s side they’re on anymore. None of that matters. Only the truth matters. I won’t keep it to myself. It’s time it all came out, every ugly, uncomfortable detail, and then maybe there would be an end to this bullshit.
“Tell me, Kacey. What was it that Sam Hawthorne said to you that night?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she scoffs.
“You know what I’m talking about. The night of Leon Wickman’s spring fling party. I was standing outside in the dark and the cold, bleeding…I was waiting for my friend to come and help me, but…” I shake my head. “You didn’t come to help me, did you? I saw you through the window. Sam Hawthorne said something to you that made you so angry. And when you came outside, you weren’t my friend anymore. You’d decided I was your enemy, and I didn’t deserve your compassion.”
“YOU WERE MY ENEMY!” Kacey roars. “You wanna know what Sam said to me? Fine. All I ever heard come out of my father’s mouth was, Silver’s such a nice girl, Kacey. Why can’t you be more like Silver, Kacey? Silver isn’t failing math, is she, Kacey? Silver’s so goddamn smart, Kacey. Why don’t you get Silver to help you, Kacey? Silver, Silver, Silver all the fucking time! I could never understand why he insisted on banging on and on about you all day long. And then there it was. Sam told me that my father had actually been banging your mother. She was the reason why my parents split up, though my poor mom never found out who the other woman was. She sure as hell wouldn’t have let me hang out with you if she’d known.”
“What?” What the actual fuck is she talking about? My mom never had an affair with Mr. Winters. She had an affair with her boss at work. Kacey doesn’t know anything about that, though. Aside from Alex, no one knows about that.
“You heard me. Your mom seduced my dad when we were thirteen. I saw her coming out of the guest house once, but he told me she’d come looking for you. I didn’t think anything of it, but that’s where they used to meet up. They’d fuck in there while my mom was at work.”
“No. No way. Sam made it up. How the hell would he know anything about my mom and your dad?” I’m telling myself this, pleading with myself to believe it. Sam had to have made it up. But a worried part of me is scared that it might be true. “He just said that to turn you against me, Kacey. And look?” I hold my hands up. “It worked. You let a boy rape me and get away with it because you believed a lie. And then you decided to date that boy!”
“God, you’re the liar. You fucked Jake because you wanted to fuck him, and then you cried about it afterwards ’cause you didn’t want anyone to think you were a slut. But you are a slut, Silver. Just like your mom.”
So this is what it’s like to see red; my entire vision turns crimson, darkening around the edges. I’ve never been so angry that my blood feels cold in my veins. It feels like I’m frozen and carved out of ice, from the roots of my hair all the way down to the soles of my feet. Alex takes my hand, muttering reassuring words under his breath, but my ears aren’t willing to listen. I’m too livid to be soothed, even by him.
“You’re fucking insane,” I snarl. “You’re so desperate to be the best, to be looked up to, and have everybody falling at your feet, that the moment someone pays someone else a compliment, you paint a fucking target on their backs. Maybe your dad was just sick of your shit. Maybe he just thought it would be fine to ask your friend to help you with some math tutoring. Maybe he simply didn’t like the way you were behaving and thought you’d benefit from an attitude adjustment. What does it matter? I was your friend, and you threw me away like I was garbage, Kacey. You’re vapid, and cold. And you’re never going to find anyone to love you. How can you, when you don’t even like yourself.?”
She glowers, stung, her cheeks flooding with color. So unlike Kacey Winters, the Ice Queen, to ever show emotion. It was always beneath her to let anyone visibly ruffle her feathers, and yet here she is, very ruffled indeed. She’s so fucking predictable.
Love me.
Worship me.
Praise me.
Look up to me.
Treat me like your fucking god.
The moment her layers are stripped back and her insecurities are revealed, she’s no longer special and she knows it. She’s just as afraid, and tired, and scared, and fucked up as the rest of us. A seventeen-year-old girl, affecting a level of calm she doesn’t possess, pretending that she has even the slightest control over her own life, when in truth she’s confused and spinning dangerously out of control.
“Jesus, just fuck off and die. Please. Do everyone a favor and expire already. We’re all so over of the Silver Parisi show.” The venom in her voice is toxic. It’s there on her face, in the way she’s leaning toward me like she’s desperate to lash out and hit me but she doesn’t quite know how; Kacey’s always been far more efficient at hurting people with her tongue than her fists.
Her words only have an effect on me now because of the yearbook nomination ballots that just came tumbling out of my locker. She really does want me to die. She’s not just saying it, attempting to wish me away, out of her life. She hates me so badly that she wants me dead and buried in the ground. That kind of ice-cold hatred is enough to make anyone’s teeth chatter.
Perfectly timed as ever, Jake decides that now’s the right moment to saunter over, absently toying with an olive in between his teeth. He sucks it into his mouth, winking at me as he chews. He’s the type of guy who’s comfortable in a suit. He wears the expensive-looking cloth like it’s a second skin. Looking me up and down, he does nothing to hide his disdain at my outfit. “A dress? Brave of you, Silver. I was expecting you to show up in a hessian sack. Something with a little more material?” he sneers.
Alex bristles beside me, his anger palpable at such close quarters. This kind of confrontation is exactly what I wanted to avoid. We were supposed to be having a good night. Supposed to be keeping to our side of the gym, minding our own business. It would have been fine, too, if Kacey had
n’t noticed Halliday checking out the ring on my finger.
She clearly still hasn’t forgotten about it, either. Glaring at it pointedly, her mouth twisted into a sour pout, she pops out a hip, arching a sculpted black eyebrow, and announces out loud, for everyone to hear, “Come on now, baby. Tonight’s a special night for Silver. She’s just agreed to become Mrs. Trailer Trash. Shame her loser fiancé couldn’t afford a proper ring. Looks like it came out of a fucking gum ball machine.”
A chorus of titters and awkward laughter travels from one side of the crowd to the other like a Mexican wave. All around me, seniors avert their gaze, avoiding making eye contact with me as they hide their smiles. They react this way because they’ve been conditioned. Kacey lashes someone with a cutting barb, and our classmates all respond in kind, giving her the reaction she so craves. It’s a fucked up symbiotic relationship that I thought had ended the day Leon Wickman bled out on the rough grey carpet in the Raleigh High library.Seems as though people here are all too willing slip back into old routines, though, acting out the roles that are expected of them.
They can laugh and smile all they want. They can mock me until the end of time. It wouldn’t matter if Alex had bought my ring from a gum ball machine for all I care. I’m wearing my grandmother’s ring. It’s legendary in the Parisi family. I don’t think even Alex realizes that the stone, mounted in the simple yet elegant silver setting, is a pink diamond, and one of the rarest stones money can buy.
Gram used to tuck me into bed at night sometimes, and I’d beg her to tell me the story of how her parents fell in love and survived the war. And at the center of my great grandparent’s story, was the beautiful ring I’m lucky enough to be wearing on my finger. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I’m about to fire off a retort to Kacey’s shitty comment, when I notice the stunned look on Jacob’s face. His full lips are parted, a glass lifted halfway to his open mouth, and his cornflower blue eyes are wide, doubled in size. “What the fuck is that?” he sputters, staring at the ring. “You can’t be fucking serious.”