She grabs my arm and lowers her voice, her eyes shining with excitement. “Did you just talk to Preston Darling?”
“Yes,” I say, detaching my arm from her grip. “What about it?”
“He’sPreston Darling,” she squeals like she’s talking about Ed Sheeran or Brody Villines instead of a high school boy in Nowhere, Arkansas.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “You really need to stop saying it like that. Have you forgotten what his cousin did to you this morning?”
“No,” she says, touching her headband. Looking at it again, I see that it’s a pair of dog ears. Along with the dog collar, it makes her an easy target. “What did he say to you?”
“Nothing.” I cut my eyes at the silly headband. “Why do you wear that?”
“I have to,” she says, an edge of defiance in her voice.
“Why?”
“Because they told me to,” she says, her eyes widening.
“Wait a second,” I say, holding up a hand. That sounds a little too familiar, and a sick feeling rises in my stomach. Just when I think I’ve figured it out, something comes along to turn my perception of this place on its head. “The Darlings tell you what to wear? Why? Are you related to them?”
“Oh, gosh, no.” She chews at a hangnail, shrinking in her seat and eyeing me nervously.
“Why?” I ask again, my eyes narrowing.
“I have to be obedient,” she says. “I’m this year’s Darling Dog. Or… I was. I guess now you are. There’s only one at a time.” She cowers as if she expects me to be pissed that I inadvertently made waves and therefore took her spot as the Darlings’ victim.
I remember Devlin telling the crowd that I was a Darling Dog, and my stomach roils. If they think they’re going to tell me what to wear, they’ve got another thing coming. But I can’t stop the rest of it. The barking. The crude taunts.
The bullying.
The irony is not lost on me. When I said I was going to atone for my sins, I didn’t think I’d have to go this far. I thought I could start over, be someone better. I thought I could stick up for someone instead of participating in their downfall. But suddenly, I know this is the only way to truly pay for my sins. I have to see what it’s like on the other side. To see how it feels to tumble from the throne, to look up at it from below.
But I won’t make it easy for them. I may be forced to kneel, but I won’t do it on my own. I won’t wear their collars and bow at their feet. I’ll fight every step of the way. Because no matter how far they bend me to their will, I will never break.
eight
Turns out, it wasn’t as simple as moving to a new school and taking over like royalty. Turns out, even small towns have kings. And those kings don’t want to cede their thrones.
“What happened?” I ask, sliding into the front seat of the Range Rover that afternoon. “Where were you at lunch?”
“That asshole tried to suspend us,” King says, shifting into gear. “Buckle up.”
I obey before turning to my brother. “Wait, did you actually get in trouble?”
My brothers don’t get in trouble. Of course, they usually don’t throw down in the middle of the hall, but it was a good show of dominance on their first day. Still, we never get in trouble. School officials turn a blind eye to people like us.
Or they did in Manhattan.
“We took off the rest of the day,” King says. “Dad went down to take care of it. We’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Oh,” I say with a sigh of relief. At least I had Dixie to sit with at lunch. Yes, she’s a total Darling fangirl, but at least I had someone. Even if she’s someone who went super nerd on me and got out an actual notebook and made me brainstorm “The Rules of Friendship” with her, she’s nice. I chose her for a friend, and I’m sticking to it, rules and all.
“How was it?” King asks, swinging out of the lot.
I open my mouth to tell him, but then I shut it. I don’t want to start another fight, to get my brothers in trouble before the school has time to realize we’re just as untouchable as the Darlings. And I don’t want to be in the middle of the what my brothers have going on with them. That’s something different from what happened to me today. The dust will settle soon enough, and if I don’t give the Darlings the satisfaction of reacting, maybe they’ll get bored and move on. Some other new girl will come along, and I’ll be old news.
A funny little twist tugs inside me at the thought. I push it away. I swore I’d be good this time. I’ve had the limelight. I don’t need it again.
“Maybe Daddy hasn’t made a big enough donation,” I say to King.