“Of course,” she says, looking hurt. “I’m not a total bitch, you know.”
“I know. I just… Seem to end up in there a lot.”
“Look, the way I figure it, people are going to talk. If it’s something people saw, it’s going to get around school. I’d rather get first-hand accounts and sets the record straight before the gossip gets all twisted around. If anyone doubts something, they go consult the blog. It helps rumors from getting out of hand. That doesn’t mean I don’t have my own private life. I’m not a reality show.”
“Sorry.” It’s true that a part of me doesn’t like the whole blog thing Dixie has going, even though it’s useful as fuck to an outsider like me. I can imagine how helpful it is for people coming into the school as a freshman, who want to climb the social ladder or even just survive. I probably should have scanned through it more than I have, just skipping anything about me, but it sits funny with me.
I know that makes me a complete hypocrite. I spill the fucking tea every week to Mr. D, including this weekend after I got my laptop back. That’s no different than what Dixie’s doing. Sure, I have a reason for it. I need this scholarship, and that’s how I’m paying for it. But maybe that makes it worse. Dixie doesn’t hide what she’s doing. She’s sharing gossip with the whole school, making it public knowledge, helping out newbies who find themselves suddenly navigating the dangerous waters of WHPA.
I’m sharing personal information with one person who wants to ruin the Dolces. I do it in secret like a rat.
When I think of what happened to the last person who ratted on the Dolces, my skin gets cold all over again. The cops didn’t do anything. Colt says they’re paid off. Which means that even if they find out who attacked Colt, they probably won’t do anything. That comes as little surprise to me. No one on my side of town calls the cops. We know not to expect them to serve and protect us. The only thing they serve in my neighborhood is warrants, and the only people they protect are those on this side of town from people like us.
The gangs deal out justice in my neighborhood. If you don’t join a gang, you’re on your own. No one has your back.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t fight injustice on my own terms. Just because I can’t have friends, that doesn’t mean I can’t have allies. Colt told me there were people in this town who still supported the Darlings. And once, I thought Dixie couldn’t help me just because she couldn’t protect me from the Dolces. I don’t need protection, though. I need allies who have cultivated their own protection already, who aren’t a liability and who won’t be hurt by their association with me.
She might know more Darling allies as well. In fact, I already have one. A guy who has a shitload of money and the same goal I do—taking down the Dolces.
Maybe it’s time I become more than a spy for him. Maybe it’s time I become a soldier.
*
The Monster
The monster under the bed
And hiding in the basement shadows
Watching in the hotel shower
Crouching in the closet corners
Isn’t the beast they make him out to be.
He didn’t intend to rampage through the palace halls
And terrify the kingdom.
He came to protect
The Little Royal.