“What, you didn’t tell them that part?” I ask. “Sorry, I thought you shared everything with your brothers. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone at school.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally mutters, sounding miles short of convincing.
“I have a video, if you need reminding,” I say, reaching for my phone in my pocket.
“What?” he asks incredulously. “You took a video?” He stares at me like he’s never seen me before, probably because he’s yet to realize I’m an actual person and not just someone to serve him in whatever way he needs at any given moment. I start to rethink my decision not to off anyone in Royal’s family. The twins are scum.
I shrug at Duke and bite into my bagel. I’m bluffing, but he doesn’t know it, and I’m not about to change that. I wish I’d taken the video. In the moment, my sympathy for him was greater than my urge for self-preservation, but I should have known he couldn’t leave his guard down for long. He has to look cool in front of his brothers, after all. Can’t have Daddy Dolce thinking he’s weak, like when he was a kid.
“I took a page from your book,” I say after I finish chewing. “Isn’t that your M.O? Receipts or it didn’t happen? Maybe promise not to show anyone, and then send it around to the whole school?”
“I thought that was your game,” Baron says. “You sure got that video of Duke out fast.”
“I learned from the best,” I say, quirking a brow at him. If he thinks I did that, let him. I’d rather take the blame than let them go after a freshman who’s relatively unscathed by their wrath so far. Magnolia’s no shrinking violet, but I can handle them better than she can.
“Damn right, we’re the best,” Duke says, giving me a sloppy grin that’s almost convincing. But I know him now. I know when he’s faking it.
“Tell you what,” I say, putting my phone back in my pocket. “I’ll just hold onto this one. I won’t tell anyone you’re human and shatter the illusion that you’re a complete sociopath like your brother. It’ll be our little secret.”
“If…?” he asks.
I can’t help but smile and shake my head. “See, you might pretend to be a clown, but you’re just as smart as your brothers,” I say. “But since you asked, I’ll be straight with you. Here’s what I want. I want you to stop treating girls like shit. Like, no whispers, no rumors. I don’t even want to hear a girl crying in the bathroom that you ghosted her after hooking up. That’s the price of your secret.”
“I can’t have sex?” he asks, gaping at me.
“That sounds like ayouproblem,” I say. “If you can’t have sex without treating someone like shit, maybe that’s something you should work on. I never said you couldn’t hook up. I said don’t make girls cry about it.”
I stand and grab the other half of my bagel.
“Wait,” Duke says, holding up a hand. “How do I do that? That’s not fair. I can’t help it if girls cry over me.”
“Figure it out,” I say. “You’re a smart boy, Duke. I believe in you.”
Royal stands with me, grabbing a handful of grapes. “I’ll take you to your car.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking his hand and smiling up at him. “We’ll figure out how to be a big happy family one of these days.”
He just shakes his head and starts for the back door. Just as we pass the office, Mr. Dolce steps out, knocking into me. I distinctly feel his hand on my ass, and I shove myself away from him as hard as I can. He looks amused as I glower up at him.
“Harper Apple,” he says coolly. “I heard you’d be staying under our roof for a while.”
“Then you must have also heard I belong to Royal,” I say, reaching for Royal’s hand again.
“I did hear that,” Mr. Dolce says, watching as Royal grips my hand possessively, his other hand on my shoulder as he stands behind me.
“Then don’t fucking touch her,” Royal says, his voice a growl of warning. “In fact, don’t even speak to her.”
“We’re bound to bump into each other on occasion, living in the same house,” Mr. Dolce says with a shrug. I didn’t imagine his hand on my ass, but I have no proof that it was intentional. I don’t like Mr. Dolce, don’t like how powerless and naïve I feel around him, how fucking intimidating he is, and the way he uses his sons. But that doesn’t mean he groped me. In fact, knowing him, he’d never do something so bold in front of his sons.
I decide to let it go and just get out of there. I don’t want to be in the house with three men I hate, with only Royal on my side, but my options are running a little low right now, and I don’t want to screw it up on the first day. It’s Mr. Dolce’s house, after all. He’s letting me live here, feeding me fancy breakfasts. Hell, he paid for my scholarship last year, and even if Baron was reporting back to him, all he ever learned from me is something he already knew.
Royal drops me off at my car, and I head back to Willow Heights, wondering what bullshit drama will be happening today. Like Gloria said, there’s always something. I can’t wait to graduate and get out of this cesspool of rumors and petty squabbles. Since visiting Syracuse campus, I care less and less about high school. All I want is to get my diploma, bust out of here, and never look back.
But as soon as I walk into lunch that day, I see Dixie holding court at the table I claimed. There are extra chairs pulled up, ten crammed around the table that’s made for eight max. Gideon is still there, but everyone else at the table is female. The girls are watching Dixie with awe and admiration as she stands with one foot in her chair, telling some story. She’s wearing fishnets, black combat boots, and a schoolgirl skirt, along with a cat-ear headband. She looks positively radiant as she performs for her audience.
Gloria guessed she did it for the fame, and it looks like she was right. I head for the food line, not bothering to stop and talk to her. There are no empty seats for me at that table, anyway. The café is divided now, with the Dolce boys and their followers on the left side of the door and all the disgraced Dolce girls on the right. Like Gloria said, I missed my chance to really step up when I skipped the week the D-boys were suspended. Now, the queen of the dissent seems to be Dixie.
I sit at a table with a bunch of girls I don’t know. I get a few smiles, and a few nervous glances from the ones who probably think I’ll start shit and put them in the spotlight, but no one says anything to me. It feels weird to realize I’ve become irrelevant to my own rebellion, but then, I was never aiming to start something so big. I just wanted to show Baron he couldn’t control me, that I could take the best table. At the time, I guess I did want to be queen, but I was never cut out for that role.