They The Pretty Stars (Court High 1)

Honestly, I hadn’t even picked up on homecoming or anything of the like since I came

to this town, my thoughts solely on my sister. But sure enough, posters and streamers for the upcoming event lined the hallways. This school definitely took all this seriously.

Principal Hastings lowered his head once as he rerouted, going in the opposite direction of us. He stopped just short. “Make it quick the three of you, and, Ms. Lindquist?”

“Uh, yes, sir?”

His eyes narrowed again. “You’d be good to really analyze who you hang out with while attending Windsor Prep,” he said, scanning between Knight and Royal. “Wouldn’t want you getting into trouble.”

His threat felt like less for me and more for Royal and Knight, the latter boy puffing up and getting beside Royal. Principal Hastings gave no mind to that, walking away, and only when he’d cleared the hallway did Royal look at us.

“It was a good thing I was headed to the bathroom; otherwise, you’d both be in some deep shit. What’s going on and why did I just do that for both of you?” he asked, then studied me. “Are you all right? Why are you out of class?”

His concern for me and my well-being I couldn’t linger on, because with one look from Knight I knew he was about to ruin my entire universe. I saw it in his eyes as he looked at me, his face a grimace.

“I followed your girl to Route 80,” he said, Royal ripping his gaze away and flashing it on Knight. Knight frowned. “That’s right. Followed her right off campus. She took a ride share out there, and told me you told her that’s the last place you saw Paige.”

“I did tell her that,” he said, deadpan when he said it, but his expression was regretful. In actuality, he looked like he’d been taken for a ride, and no one gave him the courtesy of a sick bag, his jaw working as Knight backed away from us.

“I’m going to class,” Knight said, his hands up. “Handle that.”

Handle that. Like I needed to be handled…

Maybe I did. I clearly overstepped on something I didn’t understand here, something that made the boy who looked at me so differently in recent hours reverse any work he’d done to get there. The anger crept up his neck in deep red tones, his strong jaw piercing as tight as his temple.

I thought to speak so he wouldn’t have to first.

“Royal, let me explain,” I said. He raised his hands, but I kept on. “Remember how you told me you went out to Route 80 because of Paige, to be at the last place you guys were at together? Well, that’s kind of why I went there too. I thought maybe being in the last place you saw her might get me in her headspace a little. I might figure out where she may have gone.”

Hearing it out loud now sounded incredibly stupid. Even to me, the one with the so-called plan and the information did nothing to help.

Royal shut down completely during my word vomit, looking pained even, and I cringed.

“I know I wasn’t supposed to go out there,” I rushed. “I know that, and I know your dad didn’t want anyone out there, Royal, but I had to go. I had to. You have to understand.”

Narrowed eyes flicked my way. “I didn’t tell you that information so you could go around and do whatever the fuck you wanted with it.”

“I know that. I know—”

“No, you don’t know,” he said, lifting a hand. “You couldn’t possibly know. You know nothing about my dad, this… town, and you know nothing about me.”

Ouch. “Well, let me try, then.”

“Why should I?” he asked, digging the dagger deeper. The red crept further up his neck. “I can’t trust you.”

My insides caved, a balloon bursting inside my chest and making me feel empty and hollow. I grabbed his arm. “Royal—”

He pushed my hands away. “I’m done with all this.”

He walked away down the empty hall, shoving his hands into his pockets, as he watched his own steps down the hall. He did so in deep concentration and very much without me.

Eighteen

That next few days at Maywood Heights felt as cold as the first, the only difference was no one spoke to me. No one looked at me… It was like a silent summons had been cast over the entire place, and even the teachers barely made eye contact with me. I had to raise my hand if I wanted to be addressed at all, and the same went with Birdie and the rest of our friends. They went to classes with me, let me eat with them, but any responses to me were one or two words and the conversations were well outside of me. They kept them focused on the upcoming basketball season, other things that went on before I arrived in town. They shut me out, and at first, I thought it’d been in my head. After my showdown with Royal in the hall, I figured I’d “othered” myself on purpose. I’d felt so damn guilty for what I had done and the clear betrayal of his trust that at first I only gave one- or two-word answers to questions. I didn’t raise my hand and avoided eye contact, but as I came out of my shell, there was a clear blackballing going on here. I didn’t understand it.

Until I did.

I caught the Court looking at me one day from their lunch table, LJ, Jax, and Knight and everyone else. They all looked at me in one conjoined effort, but the only one who’d been too busy was Royal. He chewed a sandwich, paying attention to nothing but his food, and the staredown made me lose all appetite for mine. I picked up my stuff, excusing myself from Birdie and the others, and dumped my tray. What was worse was I was barely acknowledged at all when I got up. Only when I went to the lunchroom doors and faced back at that center table did anyone notice I left.