“I shouldn’t be surprised,” he says, his voice almost cajoling, an edge of taunting in it that doesn’t match the malicious gleam in his eye. He prowls forward as he speaks, the hallway dead silent except for his words. “You’ve already been run through by all the guys on our side. Guess you had to go pretty far to find someone desperate enough to fuck you now that you’re so loose a guy can’t feel a thing when he sticks it in you.”
“I wouldnever,” she huffs, looking scandalized. “Colt is disgusting!”
“He must be, if he’d fuck a pussy that’s so used it looks like a worn-out old baseball glove,” Baron says, grabbing her shoulder. He spins her toward us and gives her a shove in our direction.
“You’re not even hot,” Duke says as Gloria stumbles on her heels and lurches forward from Baron’s shove. “Without makeup, you look busted. And everyone knows that scar on your stomach isn’t from a hernia.”
Colt catches her before she can fall, but she wrenches away, throwing back her hair that flew into her face. “Don’t touch me, you freak,” she snarls.
“He’s the only guy in school who’ll ever touch you again,” Duke says, throwing an arm around Rylan. “I guarantee that. Isn’t that right, Rye-Rye?”
Rylan stands frozen, looking shocked and horrified. Guess he’s not used to the savagery of Willow Heights yet, the way the tides can turn with a snap of the right fingers. Gloria’s sacrificed herself for over two years, given everything to maintain her spot, but all it takes is one misstep, one offhand comment, to topple her from her throne.
“Rylan, he’s lying,” Gloria cries, stepping toward her boyfriend.
“Did you fuck them?” Rylan asks, his voice quiet in the silence of the hall.
Gloria gulps, tears filling her eyes. “I didn’t have a choice,” she says quietly, a tear spilling down her cheek.
Duke throws his head back and laughs. “Dude, we’ve been running trains on your girl since the first day of sophomore year. She’s just like every other pathetic bitch with no self-respect. They can’t help themselves. Once they get the twin double-stuff, they just keep crawling back for more.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Gloria insists. “You know I’m not like that!”
“You lying whore,” Rylan says quietly. “I don’t know you at all anymore.”
“You can’t believe them,” Gloria says, her words choked.
“We speak the truth,” Duke hollers, looking so damn proud of the discord he’s reaping. “The whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
Rylan turns away, shoving through the crowd. Gloria starts to follow, but I grab her arm and pull her back.
“Don’t fucking chase that asshole,” I say, yanking her around to face me. “You’re better than that.”
“I’m not,” she says, then collapses in on herself with a sob, her shoulders shaking as she hides her face with both hands, her hair falling to curtain her from view. I wrap my arms around her and glare over her head at the Dolces. Rylan storms past Amber, who gives us one glance before turning to follow her brother as he’s swallowed by the crowd.
“No one is immune,” Baron says quietly, dropping his sucker wrapper and popping the candy into his cheek. “Remember that, Jailbird.”
He turns and flicks a hand at the crowd, and they all step back, jostling to get out of his way even though he’s calm. They part like the fucking Red Sea, letting him and Duke pass. DeShaun and Cotton follow, and then there’s an awkward pause while the Walton twins look at Gloria across the empty space in the hallway, like they can’t decide if they should cross the picket line and give up their spot at the top.
“Go,” I say, waving them away as Gloria sobs into my shoulder. “If they’ll have you.”
They glance at each other, shrug, and turn to follow their guys.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go back out.”
I start for the door, and Colt holds it open, since my arms are busy holding Lo. He steps out with us, and I stop. “You should go to class,” I say. “I don’t want to give the twins any reason to hurt you again.”
He just laughs. “They don’t need a reason. They’ll do what they do. And something tells me your friend might need something to help her chill out.”
I’m too busy worrying about Gloria to argue with Colt. I wrestle her out through the door, though I’m half carrying her, since she’s basically gone limp in my arms. Colt lets the door fall closed behind us, then scoops Gloria up and starts across the lawn. When we reach the bleachers, he circles around to sit on them instead of retreating to the shadows underneath. He sets Lo down on the metal seats, and she doubles over, holding her legs and crying. I sit beside her in the sun, and Colt takes the spot on her other side and fishes out his pack of cigarettes.
For a while, the only sound is the sobs echoing along the metal seats. Colt reaches over and rubs her back absently while he smokes.
“I fucking hate them,” Gloria says at last, her voice thick with tears, her body still folded in two over her knees.
“You think they’ll cut you out for good?” I ask.
“That’s how it works,” she says miserably, straightening at last. “Once they’re done with a Dolce girl, they’re done, except maybe a super degrading booty call every once in a while to keep you in the queue. They don’t respect them once they’re done.”