I shake my thoughts away and try to focus. Nothing about Devlin Darling fits into my plan to be better here. Nothing about him would fit into my life, not with my brothers at war with him. Still, he hasn’t moved seats or asked me to move since the first day we sat together. Sometimes, I catch him looking at me, and for a second I can see the real Devlin, see into him, see that he’s just human like the rest of us. Sometimes, he even makes me laugh with his quiet, unexpected humor. And then he makes some rude, bossy comment that shows what an entitled prick he really is.
After class I head to my locker, hoping I’ll get lucky and find Colt missing from second period. I notice a few people whispering as I stop at my locker, but I can’t tell if it’s worse than usual. I am the Darling Dog, after all. And though nothing has really come of it, I get just enough comments and dog noises to know no one has forgotten. It hangs over me, following me like an echo through the halls. I can’t forget for a moment that I’ve been marked.
I start to twist the combination lock when I smell something familiar that I can’t place, a smell that’s half stale grease, a quarter musty, and a quarter something else. I slow as I click the lock around to the second number, but my mind is racing. I can turn around and demand to know who did it, even though I’m not exactly sure what “it” is. I can hurry to class without opening my locker, but if I do that, everyone will know I’m running away. Or I can open my locker and face whatever they put in here.
I’ve done plenty of running, hiding, and pretending, but I prefer to do it when I won’t look like I’m running scared. Being a Dolce means never losing face, and if that means letting them laugh at me, I’ll do it. If I don’t lose my cool, I can keep my dignity even in the face of their laughter. And if I don’t react, they’ll lose interest soon enough.
Taking a deep breath, I stop at the last number, feeling the lock catch before it gives. The second the latch gives, the door jumps open as if on a spring. I jump back involuntarily, even though I thought I was ready for it. The door swings open, and a cascade of dogfood pellets flood out of my locker. They rain down on the floor, scattering across the hall, burying the toes of my nude pumps.
A few people bark, but most of them just laugh. I stare at my locker, my heart pounding, my mind racing.
Don’t react,I tell myself.Take your books, close your locker, and go to class like nothing happened. Whatever you do, don’t shed a tear, no matter what else they do.
I reach forward and pull out my Shakespeare book, my hands trembling, my fingers numb. More dogfood rains down from in front of and on top of my books. I reach for my locker door, willing myself not to cry. I won’t give them the satisfaction.
Before I can shut my locker, a hand grabs the door from behind and slams it shut with a metallic bang that echoes down the hall. Devlin is standing behind it, his palm flat against my closed locker, his eyes blazing into mine. A titter of nervous laughter makes its way through the hall, and I search for my brothers, thinking someone saw them coming.
But they’re nowhere to be seen. These people aren’t afraid of my brothers, or of seeing a fight. They’re afraid of Devlin.
Seeing the fury crackling in his icy eyes, it’s easy to see why he inspires fear. I just don’t know why anyone but me should be afraid.
“Who did this?” Devlin asks, turning slowly to face the crowd.
A murmur goes through the gathering crowd, but no one steps up. I’d assumed he did it, and if not him, one of his cousins. But he looks like he’s about to fly off the handle. I don’t get it. He designated me the Darling Dog. He painted a target on me. And now he’s pissed that someone targeted me?
“What’s going on here?” calls an exasperated teacher’s voice, and a petite older teacher in a pencil skirt and blazer pushes through the crowd.
“Go away,” Devlin says, not even looking at her. “This is Darling business. It doesn’t concern you.”
She looks like she’s going to argue, but then she pinches her lips together and glares with disapproval. Without another word, she turns and pushes back through the crowd, leaving me gaping. Fuck. The Darlings aren’t even a little bit afraid of consequences, because for them, there are none. If I had any doubts that they run this school, they’re gone now. So is any chance at getting out of the scene unfolding around me.
And as much as I want to run away with that teacher, some insatiably curious part of me is dying to know what comes next, even though I know it can’t be good. I am fascinated by Devlin’s rage. Like a storm-chaser, I want to follow, to witness his destructive power even though I know this storm could wreck me.
I know he wouldn’t let me go, anyway. And when Colt slips up to my other side, the game is over. They’ll stop me if I try to run now.
“This is the Darling Dog,” Devlin says to the crowd, his hand shooting out and grabbing me by the back of my neck. He pulls me to his side, but this time, there’s no violence in his grip. It’s firm and possessive, not cruel. “She’smydog. Understand?”
“Make her eat it,” a guy calls, then shrinks back when Devlin swings his gaze in that direction.
“Who said that?” Devlin asks, his grip tightening.
Devlin’s gaze bores into the crowd, and after a few seconds, the guy who spoke gives a nervous laugh. “I just thought it would be funny.”
“Is this a joke to you?” Devlin demands.
“Well—”
Before he can finish, Devlin cuts him off. “This isn’t about pranks. This is real. This girl is a dog.Ourdog. No one feeds her, or takes her for rides, or pets her without our permission.”
“Sorry,” the guy says, shuffling back a step.
“You can eat it, since you think it’s funny,” Preston says, stepping through the crowd. Of all the Darlings, I know him least, and yet, he’s just as scary. His threats sound like jokes, but from the spark of mean in his eyes, I get the feeling he’d love to enact every sick threat he makes.
“What?” asks the unfortunate guy who spoke, his eyes going wide when he sees that all three Darling cousins are here.
Preston speaks slowly. “Pick up a handful, and eat it.”
The guy glances from one side to the other, as if searching for someone to rescue him. But the teachers are obviously not going to interfere in this ritual. After a second, the guy bends and scoops up a handful. His face reddens with humiliation as he brings it to his mouth, but he doesn’t stop. He puts the pellets in his mouth and begins to chew.