“Why?”
“Doesn’t it bother you?” I ask. “Being left out all the time? Being excluded from their secret society just because you’re a girl?”
“Of course it bothers me,” she says. “Do you know how many doors open for Dawson and then slam in my face?”
I didn’t even think of that. Her brother is a Swan. Of course he is. He’s one of the Dolce boys’ three best friends.
“Then you know how much it sucks,” I say quietly.
Gloria fluffs her blonde hair, which she hot-rolled into big, loose curls, and shrugs like nothing can get to her. “I’m used to it. If I fly off the handle every time I’m offended, I won’t have time to live my own life. I know when to pick my battles. Maybe it’s something you should learn, too.”
This is my fucking battle. I know it’s too late, though, that they’re already gone by now. Part of me wonders if Royal put Gloria up to this, if the whole reason she invited me to this party was so that he would know I was occupied while he went off to his meeting. But that’s ridiculous.
Isn’t it?
I made a big deal about it when he wouldn’t let me join. I completed the first challenge. Maybe it’s just another line of questioning he shut down when I tried to pry into his life, but maybe it’s more. Maybe this is one of the initiations—being there at midnight on New Year’s.
Or maybe Gloria is right, and I’m being clingy and crazy as fuck, and I need to accept defeat and let this go. Not my strong point, that’s for damn sure. But this isn’t the first time someone told me to chill the fuck out. I remember Colt saying something along those lines when we were locked in the dumpster the first month of school—that I couldn’t attack everything with brute force. Some things take finesse.
And getting into the Swans is probably one of those things.
Gloria slips her hand into mine and offers me a sly smile. “Come on, let’s get a drink and have so much fun Royal will wish he stayed. Hell, if I have a few more, I might even make out with you.”
I muster a half-hearted smile and let her tow me back to the open bar. Long tables laden with fancy finger foods line two of the walls, and I have to resist gawking. I haven’t eaten, as I’ve been with Royal since we walked in an hour ago. I grab a plate and load up while Gloria gets drinks. Rich people parties are weird. The hors d’oeuvres probably cost five times as much as steak and potatoes, but they’re five times less satisfying. I just want to sit down at a table and scarf down something solid until I’m stuffed. Instead we stand around like storks, nibbling at our food and sipping the champagne, pretending we’re not eyeing the table for seconds like everyone else.
“See, that’s much healthier,” Gloria says. “Eat your feelings and resist the urge to stalk your boyfriend.”
I force a laugh, but even the food isn’t distracting me enough. I can’t help but feel like I’m missing my last chance to stay at Willow Heights. I need to get down there, into the Swans’ lair. Maybe Gloria’s not down to be an accomplice, but that doesn’t mean I can’t go on my own. I’ve been on my own my whole life. One month of having a friend doesn’t mean I’m dependent on her.
“I’m going to go talk to King,” I say after a while. He’s standing over between the bar and the tables, looking on just the way Royal does in the café at school.
Lording their power over others must run in the family.
“You mean the one person Royal told you not to talk to?” Gloria asks, rolling her eyes. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Not even trying to,” I admit. I head over, leaving Gloria with some other girls from school. King’s standing with a couple men, one of whom I recognize as DeShaun’s dad. King’s eyes lock on me as I approach, and he says something to his companions. They glance at me before shaking his hand and dispersing. If I didn’t feel self-conscious approaching a powerful stranger, I do now. I don’t miss the way heads turn when I make my way toward King. Attention isn’t my thing, and I have to force myself to keep my head high and act like it doesn’t matter.
“Hey,” I say, stepping up beside him. In my pissed off state, I may have downed one too many of glasses of champagne, but I clutch the one in my hand like a lifeline.
“Harper,” he says. “Glad to see you here. We didn’t get a chance to talk much earlier.”
“You mean when you gave me the third degree about messing with Royal?”
“Yeah,” he says, giving me a cool look. “That’s when.”
“I figured you’d be at the Swans’ meeting with them,” I say, deciding to play the angle that I already know more than I do. “Once a Swan, always a Swan, right?”
He huffs a little breath out through his nose, offering me a haughty smirk. “What do you know about the Swans?”
I shrug and smile back. “Enough.”
He narrows his eyes, studying me in a way that’s just a little too intense for comfort. “You and my brother are close?”
“You could say that,” I say, sipping my drink and shooting him a look that dares him to contradict me. I don’t know what Royal’s told him, so I’m not about to lie and call him my boyfriend or say he told me all about the Swans, but there’s something about this guy that makes me uneasy.
“How long?” King asks.
“How long have we been close?” I say, trying to guess what Royal would tell him. Guys probably measure by the length of time we’ve been fucking, so I go with that. “A couple months.”