Preston was staring at me with narrowed eyes as I approached, but Mrs. LaVaunne truly didn’t seem to grasp that something was wrong here—that everything was wrong
, that this absolutely shouldn’t be happening. She gestured to the two girls behind her, who scurried out to drape the sash over my shoulders and place the crown on my head.
It was made out of real metal—because of course it fucking was—and as soon as the heavy, bejeweled circlet was set on my head, a screech much louder than the microphone feedback cut the air.
“What the fuck?”
I’d never seen over a hundred people move in sync quite like they did as everyone turned to stare at Adena.
She was standing right where Preston had left her, her hands clenched into fists and her face so red it was in danger of blending completely with her dress.
“What. The. Fuck?”
She repeated the question at a higher pitch and volume, as if that would get someone to answer her.
When no one did, she stormed forward, weaving back and forth slightly but never taking her furious gaze off of me.
“No! That’s not fucking right! You don’t get to be prom queen! Trash doesn’t get to be prom queen!”
“Um, now—”
Mrs. LaVaunne blinked, pulling the microphone out of its stand and bringing it closer to her lips even as her voice broke off. The other chaperones around the room straightened, obviously all realizing at the same time that something was wrong.
“That belongs to me, you bitch!” Adena was still coming for me, bearing down like a fucking freight train. Sable had followed her halfway across the room, but now the dark-haired girl hesitated, glancing around uncertainly.
Yeah, think about it for a second. You sure you want to hitch your wagon to that crazy train?
I didn’t move. Not even as Adena found the stairs and stomped up them, stumbling and almost tripping on her dress. From the corner of my eye, I could see the Princes all gathered near the stage, but none of them moved to intervene. Their gazes were locked on me and Adena, their bodies tense.
My stomach twisted into a knot that seemed to pull itself tighter and tighter as the blond girl bore down on me.
“Give me that!”
Her claws were already out, and she went straight for the crown, as if she thought it would actually make her queen of any-goddamn-thing.
I ducked out of the way, and she pushed past Mrs. LaVaunne to go for me again. She was glaring at me, her eyes glassy and slightly unfocused.
“Take off that crown this second, you trashy whore!” she hissed at me. “You think you fucking earned that shit? I earned it!”
“Miss Davenport! Please!” Mrs. LaVaunne was still holding the microphone, and her voice echoed through the large space.
Adena lurched toward me again, grabbing my sash. I gripped her wrists, keeping her from yanking it off me, but pain shot up my leg as I tried to keep my balance.
“Yeah?” My hold on her wrists was hard enough that my knuckles turned white. “And how did you earn it, exactly? What makes you so special?”
“It’s not about being special, you simple bitch!” There was a definite slur to her words now, and she stumbled again as she tried to reach for the crown—or maybe she was going for my eyes. “It’s about not ever letting anyone say no to you. I get what the fuck I want.”
I relaxed my grip slightly, meeting her gaze. “Oh, so you didn’t earn it. Just like you didn’t earn Harvard. Or all your school honors either.”
“I did earn Harvard!” she screeched, wrenching against my hold so strongly that we both almost fell over. “You think I would’ve fucked the admissions guy if it wouldn’t get me in? Maybe you would’ve, you slut, but I only do shit like that when I get something out of it! I don’t just spread my legs for anyone like you do!”
“No,” I grunted, pulling her several feet across the stage. I could see out of the corner of my eye that Mrs. LaVaunne was staring at us in open-mouthed shock, but it would only be a matter of time before she pulled herself together and intervened. “You only sleep with guys in exchange for favors, right? Like Mr. Cartwright?”
She scoffed, even as she made a swipe to grab at my sash. “What, you think I slept with him because of his looks? Get real, Idaho.”
And… there it is.
She’d said plenty. She had already buried herself, but she was too far gone to realize it.