“Wow,” I breathed. Loretta’s momkilled herself?That was some dark, dark shit. No wonder Loretta had closed off when I’d asked about it. “I’m guessing the monarchs know about this?”
“It was in her file,” Greg’s features darkened.
It wasn’t really Greg’s place to tell me Loretta’s story, but he couldn’t help being who he was – a hopeless gossip. As I watched her tiny figure running in the direction of the school buildings, I felt as though I understood her a little better. The way she would stiffen any time someone said something dirty, her fervent wish to stay under the radar, the way she kept worrying about Greg. My chest tightened.What a shit thing to happen, and then to have your tormentors throw it back in your face.
My blood boiled. Loretta had already been through the worst thing to ever happen to a person, and then to have to relive it over and over every time she walked down the halls or went to class.Fuck the monarchs. They deserve to learn that they can’t do this to people and get away with it.
I just wished I had some power to make it all go away for Loretta, and Greg, and all of us, to make Trey and all the other monarchs understand what it was like to walk in our shoes. Sure, Greg and I had taken the leads in the production, but it didn’t feel like enough. It pissed them off, but it hadn’t made them understand that what they were doing waswrong.
Revenge plans circled in my head as we wandered over to the edge of the field, twenty feet from where Courtney and her friends huddled. Quinn, on the opposite team, intercepted Trey’s pass and tried for a goal, but Ayaz – who was the goalie for Trey’s team – stopped him. The boys yelled insults at each other in a friendly way as they returned to their starting positions.
Quinn had his hair pulled back into a messy bun. Tendrils pulled free and whipped around his face. His muscles rippled under his shirt. I thought about his invitation to the party next weekend and found myself wishing it was real, that he actually wanted to spend time with me as a person.
Why am I such a sucker for guys like that?
As I watched him, it occurred to me that Quinn was the key to any revenge plot – to any hope of stopping the bullying. He wasn’t like Trey and Courtney and the others. He was a bully, but he wasn’t doing it because he felt threatened. He did it because he craved stimulation. I could probably use that.
Plus, when he wasn’t being gross or horrible, his smile made butterflies dance in my chest. And I hadn’t felt that in a long, long time.
“Hey Delacorte,” I yelled as he jogged back to his place. “Looking good!”
Quinn flashed me a dazzling smile. Courtney’s head whipped around so fast she broke the sound barrier. She stalked toward us, claws sharpened, feline body coiled, ready to pounce. Beside me, Greg stiffened.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, honey?” he muttered.
Courtney stopped a few feet from me, her hands on her hips. Two of her fellow Queens, Amber and Tillie, stood on either side of her. Courtney’s voice dripped with false sweetness. “Poor little gutter whore, thinking Quinn’s interested in you. He’smyboyfriend, and he only asked you to the party as a joke. You’re so pathetic, of course you’d think it was real.”
“He told me you’re not even dating,” I said. “I’m not the one who’s acting pathetic, hanging on to a guy who obviously doesn’t want me.”
Courtney’s eyes flashed. “And you think Quinn wants you? Oh, gutter whore, you are so deluded. Quinn doesn’t give a fuck. He’s a poor little rich boy trying to stick it to his parents by slumming it with you.”
“Is that what he’s been doing with you, slumming it with the new money?” I yawned as if the whole thing was totally boring. Which it kind of was. “I don’t really care what you and your not-boyfriend get up to, Courtney.”
“Why. Too busy being a fag-hag?” Courtney glared at Greg, who shrunk from her gaze. Behind us, Andre remained bone-still, not saying anything but not giving her any ground, either.That guy is a total rock.
“Is that really all you got?” I growled, sensing the anger flaring inside me, tearing through my veins like a flame, consuming everything in its path. “You’re going to stand there giving basic bitch homophobia and you think that intimidates us?”
“Of course it does.” She smiled, and her smile was so certain and so satisfied that my fingers itched to punch it off her face. “Gutter trash like you and your friends."
“Hey, Courts,” Trey called from the field. Courtney’s head whipped around. To my surprise, the guys had stopped play, and were standing in their positions, watching our stand-off with interest. “Back off. They’re just watching the game.”
What?I searched Trey’s face for some trick, some sign that he was building me up for an epic fall. He frowned at Courtney, his body angled toward her in a power stance, staring her down. King versus Queen. Some understanding flickered between them – a silent battle for power that had nothing to do with me or the other scholarship students.
Tension crackled in the air as Courtney directed her glare at Trey. “You’re not the boss of me,” she hissed like a cat, her shoulders squaring off and her chest thrust out. There was a threat in her voice that sent a chill down my spine.
Trey shrugged, his eyes never leaving Courtney’s face. “Suit yourself. Personally, if Hazel and her friends want to watch me, I’m not gonna complain.”
Damn you, Trey Bloomberg.
His teammates laughed, some of them cruelly. Quinn’s infectious laugh rose over them all. At the sound of it, Courtney bristled. I tried to imagine the two of them together, lips locked, skin on skin, Quinn’s hands sweeping her sharp angles and touching her feline face. But it just… didn’t work. Did Courtney evenlikeQuinn? In class, she always sighed when he made jokes, and she never joked back. Did she see him, or did she just see a fast-track to legitimizing her family in the eyes of the elite?
As if answering my question, Quinn’s eyes fell on me. I winked at him and he laughed even harder. He wasn’t the only one watching me. In the goal, Ayaz had removed his helmet, running his hand through his dark hair while two dark pools swept over my body, burning into my soul. When Ayaz looked at you, he peeled away layers; he saw more than just the mask I wore for Courtney. If his eyes had been kind, I might have thrown myself at him, laid my deepest fears and my darkest secrets bare. But since he was a vicious, maggot-wielding bastard, he could go to hell.
In the center of it all, Trey’s gaze narrowed on me. But before I could get a read on him, he’d turned back to the game, running off down the field with the ball, his muscled legs pumping as he slammed through the distracted midfield defense. My chest fluttered as he ducked under Quinn’s stick, his broad shoulders stretching and straining to make the pass to his teammate. As he lifted his arm, I caught a glimpse of something on his wrist. It was fast, but I thought it was a twin to the rune tattoo I’d seen on Quinn earlier. Did the two of them get friendship tattoos? That was kind of… cute. Adorably cute, actually.
My gaze flicked back to Trey’s face, and I forgot all about the tattoo. The curl of his lip, the sparkle in his eyes as he jogged after his teammates, reminded me of the way he looked on stage – transformed to another place, another body. His features softened, his icicle eyes focused on the ball and nothing else.
Trey Bloomberg was only happy when he stepped outside of himself, when he could pretend for a minute or an hour that he was someone else. But why? What was so awful in his life that the perfect rich boy was desperate to escape?
