The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things (21 page)

I tell Grace a little about Shane as we lock up. She beams at me. “I envy you, Sage. First love is the best. He’s the one you’ll compare everyone else to hereafter.”

Her assumption that we’ll break up takes the shine off my joy. I don’t say anything because Grace treats me like an adult, mostly, and she’d be upset if she knew how much reality bums me out. I mean, she’s right. Romance usually doesn’t last at sixteen, but you don’t want to
think
about it. You just want to feel.

“Great,” I mumble. “Night, Grace.”

I unfasten my bike chain while she locks up. Then I go about my nightly reflective tape ritual. So embarrassing. She laughs at me, shaking her head as she walks to her car. The streetlights are bright here, but once I leave the small downtown area, it gets dark fast.

I’m pedaling slowly toward home when I hear a car coming. Since I’m on the sidewalk, it shouldn’t be a problem, but the screech of tires scares me. I throw a look over my shoulder and find a black truck about to eat me. I wobble sideways and land hard on my hands and knees. Its tires hit the curb, bouncing toward me. Scrambling backward, I come against the fence that keeps people from screwing around in the auto body parking lot.

The headlights switch to high beam, practically blinding me. I clench my phone, already finding 911 with my fingertips. Then Dylan climbs out of the cab, propping his arms on top of the door. “Not such a scary bitch now, are you?”

His stillness is the only reason I don’t complete the call. “Isn’t it exhausting?”

“What?”

“Being such an asshole all the time. Don’t you occasionally want the day off?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” he snaps.

“I know there’s something really wrong with you.”

He growls and comes around the door, but when I raise my phone, he stops. “You pretend to be so nice, but deep down, you’re as bad as everyone else.”

“I’m nice to those who deserve it,” I correct.

“And you think I’m not?”

“No,” I say. “You made life hell for a couple of people who are important to me.”

Dylan clenches a fist. “Lila’s using you, she’s tired of her old crew. That’s what she does, constantly reinvents herself because if she didn’t, she’d have to take a long look in the mirror.”

“Says the guy who lied when he told the whole school he popped her cherry.”

“Whatever. You’ll get a taste of her poison sooner or later.”

“What do you want, Dylan?”

He bites his lip. His followers would lose all respect if they could see how uncertain he looks at this moment. “I was wondering … how do you know about … them?”

No question that he means his mom and the principal. “I saw them kissing in his office.”

“Goddammit. I warned her. I told her to be careful.” He runs a harried hand over his short hair. “Do you have any idea how tired I am of dealing with this shit?”

“No.” I consider saying
I don’t care, either
but maybe it will help me understand why he’s such a dick to everyone if I listen.

“Since I was thirteen, I’ve been hearing guys talk about what a MILF my mom is. I have to pretend it doesn’t bother me or they’d just do it even more.”

“So that’s why you pick on people at school? You’re deflecting.”

Dylan makes a derisive sound. “You sound like a shrink.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

If he acts the way he does out of some misguided idea that he’s protecting his mother, then I can’t hate him entirely. Dylan, Shane, and I are tied together through a bizarre trifecta of the maternal spectrum. This jackhole won’t thank me for that insight, however. And I still don’t know what he wants, so I fold my arms expectantly.

“I’m giving you a chance to back off. Bad things happen to people who threaten my mom.”

“Excuse me?” Both my brows go up. “I haven’t done anything. And I won’t, as long as you leave us alone. That was the deal. It hasn’t changed.”

“I’m just supposed to trust you? I don’t think so.”

“Even if I say, Okay, I promise I won’t tell, even if you go back to picking on my friends, how does that change anything, since you
don’t
trust me? Did you think this conversation through at all?”

A look of dismay flickers across his handsome face. I mean, I don’t want to date him but he’s attractive, no denying that. “I’m not stupid,” he snaps.

You could’ve fooled me.

“But my mom is,” he goes on quietly. “She trusts people … sees the best in them. So when that asshole Warick tells her it’s just a matter of time until he leaves his wife—”

“It means it’s never gonna happen,” I finish.

“Yeah. And it seems like I’ve spent my whole life protecting her, trying to keep her from making another stupid move, including sleeping with my friends.”

Wow, why the hell is he telling me this?

“They’d get her drunk, nail her, and then give me shit about it for the rest of my life. Which is why I have to be the baddest, scariest asshole at school. These guys have to know I will not hesitate to pull the trigger if they cross me.”

Dammit.
I finally see his point.

“And if you back off Shane and Lila after our private convo, they’ll see it as weakness.”

He nods. “Blood in the water. So we can go down this road, but I guarantee I’ve got more practice being bad.”

“You might be surprised.”

“I doubt it. What’s it gonna be, Princess? Do we call a truce, you forget what you know and things go back to normal, or do I start digging for
your
secrets?”

My blood chills. Though I’m not sure, my case file
should
be confidential. Since everything happened when I was so young, the records are sealed and they’ll be expunged when I turn eighteen. I’m terrified, but I can’t reveal my vulnerability to Dylan. Right now, he’s just guessing that I have something to hide. I shouldn’t confirm it.

Silently, I shake my head.

“Bad move,” he says softly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my mom.”

Ignoring him, I pull my bike off the ground and ride away, half expecting him to come after me with his truck. But he doesn’t. If nothing else, I’ve learned the key to Dylan Smith tonight. He’s not a bully for the fun of it, and I don’t think he’s a sociopath, either. He’s just driven by the desire to defend his mother. I’d almost feel sorry for him, except for the dread churning in my gut.

He’s not playing. He’ll search for anything he can use to discredit me. Logic dictates I should wreck him, shoot first, so to speak. If the whole school’s talking about what a slut his mom is, they won’t listen when he shit-talks me later. But … I don’t know if I can.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The next day, I expect there to be immediate fallout, where Dylan challenges my resolve by going back to his old habits, but instead we maintain a cautious truce. This can’t last, however. Once he has some bullets for his figurative gun, I’m going down. It’s only a matter of time before the peace I’ve won for Shane and Lila runs out. So now I have to decide what kind of person I am—the good girl I’ve been pretending to be or Shadow Sage, bad enough to ruin someone else’s life. The idea horrifies me, but I’m nearly frozen over the idea of everyone learning my secrets.
Rock and a hard place, devil and the deep blue sea.
At this point, my two choices seem to be bad and worse.

At least Shane’s leveled up socially. One of the girls from the Coffee Shop recorded a few songs on her phone and posted them on YouTube, then she forwarded the link to everyone she knows on Facebook. He has almost two thousand views on his Good Charlotte cover already, and today, people know his name as he walks me to my next class. They chin-lift at him, call his name, and say “sup” when I can tell he has no idea who they are.

“This is so weird,” he says, shaking his head.

I shrug. “It’s a small school.”

“Better than getting shoved around on a daily basis,” he decides.

With a quick kiss, he darts off to his next class since we only have math together. He has to work tonight, and I don’t, so this will give me a chance to catch up on homework. So I think, until I find Lila waiting at my locker after school. Today she’s a goddess in black; nobody should make leggings, boots, and a belted sweater look that good.

“You ditched me at lunch yesterday.”

“It was just a bad day.”

“I ended up sitting with Shane, your freshmen, and those random sophomores.”

“Sorry. Want to hang out today?”

“I’m pissed at you.”

“So that’s a no?”

Her scowl eases up. “Just don’t do it again. I want to hear about it if you’re having a shitty day or fighting with Shane.”

Heat creeps into my cheeks. I’d like to say that’s a lucky guess on her part, but I’ve made no secret that I think he’s awesome. So I just nod. “Come over. My aunt’s making soup.”

“You think it’s that easy?”

I grin. “I hope so. I’m not in the mood for drama … and besides, remember how happy it makes your mom when you hang out with me.”

“That’s true. She gives me forty-six percent less shit these days.”

“You did the math?”

“Obviously. Let’s go.”

She rides on the back of my bike again, and I pedal over to my place. If we keep doing this, I’ll lose weight, hopefully in my butt. I don’t have the chest to spare. We hang out in the living room because my aunt isn’t home yet. We’ll probably migrate once she gets back.

“I’m trying to decide why you live with Gabby,” Lila says.

It’s not what I expected to hear. “My parents aren’t around anymore.”

“Like…” I can see her trying to find a tactful word. “Passed on?”

I nod, grateful that she’s too uncomfortable to pursue this line of questioning. She’s curious if it’s a recent loss, but afraid of making me feel shitty. Good thing she’s a nice person. Otherwise, she’d definitely be digging to find out why I’m an orphan. God, that’s such a stupid word. It conjures visions of pasty-faced children in Victorian clothes with tin cups, dining on gruel. The reality is depressing in a different way.

“So what do you wanna do?” she asks, changing the subject.

“Homework, if you can talk and write at the same time.”

“I can manage. Wait, let me call my mom. She likes the new, improved responsible me.”

While she dials, I make popcorn. I hear snatches of conversation over the
ping
of hot kernels hitting the lid of the pot, and Lila sounds slightly annoyed. There’s a lot of sighing from her end, anyway.

“Everything good at home?” I ask, coming back to the living room.

“Yep. Speaking of which…” She sighs. “Would you mind coming over to prove you exist? I swear my mom is starting to think I’ve hired someone to play my friend on the phone. Plus, I need to repay the times I’ve come to your place. My mom’s cooking isn’t as healthy as your aunt’s, though. Butter is her best friend.”

I laugh. “Sure, when?”

“Tomorrow night, after Green World.”

“Are you sticking with it?” I’m doubtful, even though the meetings have gotten bigger and more productive lately.

This week, we’re planning a recycling drive. We still need to agree on a drop-off point … and convince the school to let us include the event in the morning announcements. I don’t know how many people will bother, but I intend to talk to my social studies teacher about offering extra credit if they do. The class is supposed to teach us to be responsible, right?

“It’s better than spirit squad. And I need a few meaningful activities on my college apps or my parents will never shut up.”

I open my backpack and dig out my math notebook; it seems best to start with the worst of my assignments. “Well, I know it’s not most people’s idea of a good time. But it’s more entertaining when you’re around.”

“Everything is.” Lila tosses her hair like the especially vapid girls do when they’re trying to attract some guy’s attention.

Which reminds me.

“Are you ever going to tell me exactly what happened with Dylan?” It’s a non sequitur, but anything I can learn about him might help me later.

She frowns, chewing on her pencil so that she leaves neat rows of teeth marks in the yellow paint. By the look of the wood, this isn’t the first time. “That’s ancient history. Why?”

“He hassled me after work last night.” I figure it’s safe to tell her that much. “I was just wondering how bad is he really?”

How seriously should I take his threats?

“That asshole,” she snarls. “Did he scare you?”

“He tried to.”

“If he’s screwing with you, then I guess I owe you the full story. But I expect some Shane gossip afterward to wash the taste out of my mouth.”

“Deal.”

“Dylan and I got together freshman year. He wasn’t as bad then.” Here, her gaze softens, like she has some good memories. “He was … sweet. I know it’s hard to imagine now.”

I barely remember anyone but Ryan from that period. Back then I shadowed him so hard that it’s a wonder we didn’t fuse together. Eighth grade had been a battle of epic proportions and my freshman year I was struggling to find a balance. Mostly, I went to school, did my homework, and tried
really
hard to be perfect, so Aunt Gabby wouldn’t dump me back in state care. I’m still doing that, to be honest. Sometimes it’s hard to feel safe.

“He wasn’t on my radar,” I admit.

“Something happened between our freshman and sophomore years. I have no idea what … he wouldn’t say. But he changed. Suddenly he wanted to know where I was every minute. He tried to tell me who I could talk to, how I was allowed to dress…” Lila shakes her head and sighs.

Given what I know about Dylan’s relationship with his mom, I suspect this has something to do with her. “That’s bizarre.”

“Right? But it gets weirder.”

“I’m listening.”

“We’d been dating for nine months or so … and I wanted to sleep with him. I was stupid. I thought it might reassure him that I loved him.”

At this, my brows shoot up, because I thought they broke up because he told everyone they did it when they really didn’t. “Not what I was expecting.”

“I guess not. So one night, we had his place to ourselves. His mom was out with her flavor of the month. We started messing around, but when I touched him through his jeans, he pulled away and started crying.”