“The… Dolce table?” she asks. “They’ll never let me sit there. Or Colt.”
“Someone has to stop them,” I say. “It might as well be us.”
“I’m good, really,” Quinn says, holding up a hand and backing away. “I don’t want to get on their bad side.”
“See?” I say. “They’ve created a fucking reign of terror. It needs to end.”
Quinn scrunches her shoulders up to her ears. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m in,” Dixie says. “We better get there before they do. Let me get Josie.”
She grabs her friend from her locker, and we hurry to the café and sit down at the head table, taking up half the seats. We don’t bother getting food and losing our chance.
A minute later, Duke and Baron arrive from the food line, their servants behind them.
“What are you doing?” Baron asks, looking at me like I’m insane.
“We’re taking the best table,” I say. “There are spots for you, too.”
“This isn’t going to work,” he warns.
“Y’all going to run away like you did when I sat at your table last year?” I ask. The memory of that day, when I sat there and they all got up and moved, leaving me sitting alone with everyone staring, still makes my insides twist with humiliation. But this time, I won’t be alone.
“You picked the wrong side, new girl,” Duke says, shaking his head at Josie. She crosses her arms and stares back at him, looking bored.
Baron drops his used sucker stem in front of me, turns, and grabs the other table, the one pushed up against this one that usually holds the overflow. He pushes it away from ours. Everyone in the room turns at the sound of the legs scraping against the floor—those who weren’t already watching the drama unfold. Duke grabs another table, shooing away the people already sitting there, and pulls it over so the group of two tables is back in place. Then he and Baron sit at their usual position while others begin to fill in the chairs around it.
“It’s not working,” Dixie says, looking nervous.
“It is working,” I say, trying to ignore all the eyes turned our way. “We just have to show them we have supporters, too.”
I wave at Gloria, motioning her and Rylan over. She gives me an apologetic little smile and shakes her head, turning to the Dolce table instead. I wince, my face warming at the very public rejection.
I get it, though, and I don’t hold it against her. Like I told Dixie, I don’t want anyone to get hurt in this. The second Gloria betrays the Dolces, they’ll tell her boyfriend they’ve both fucked her. She’s in an impossible position. I’m her friend, and I want her to be happy and do what’s best for her. So I smile at her, hoping she understands that I know she’d support me if she could.
“Even Lo won’t join,” Dixie moans.
Colt snorts. “You really expected the Homecoming Queen to defect?”
“She’s nice,” Dixie protests.
Colt rolls his eyes. “So everyone keeps telling me.”
“We don’t need the Homecoming Queen,” I say. “We just need enough people to fill our table.”
I spot Cotton coming out of the food line with his servant, and I meet his eyes and raise my brows. Not super keen on having a sexual predator on my side, but right now, we just need warm bodies.
He turns away and keeps walking like he didn’t see me. He won’t help dismantle a system that directly benefits him. Why would he?
“Just two more people,” Dixie says, crossing her fingers on both hands. “Come on, come on. Someone’s got to hate them as much as we do.”
“I don’t hate them,” I say. “I just don’t want to have to worship them.”
I spot Magnolia Darling and her two freshman friends making their way toward a table, and I wave them over. Magnolia gives me a haughty look, like she doesn’t know if she should deign to talk to me, but she says something to her friends, and they cautiously approach.
“Not her,” Colt mutters when he sees his cousin heading our way, but it’s too late. They’re already at our table.
“Hey,” I say. “Want to sit with us?”