Broken Knight (All Saints High 2)

“…and now she’s hanging out with Daria Followhill? How fitting. All she needed to do was become a bitch like her to get in the cool kids’ club.”

The chatter behind me intensified.

“I hope Knight goes back to Poppy. At least she didn’t play stupid third-grade games.”

“Luna, baby, come. I think this one’s the one,” Edie said.

She must’ve seen the girls behind me, deduced that they were talking about me by the way they looked at me, and wanted to spare me the heartache.

Edie, Emilia, Melody, and Daria had gotten used to my speaking, just like everyone else around me, but they were still overprotective. They still worried I couldn’t take care of my own business.

“Just one minute, Mom!” I yelled to Edie, loud and clear.

The chatter behind me stopped. So did their shuffling of clothes. I turned around, a serene smile on my face. It was high time I did this—stood up to the bullies myself instead of hiding behind Knight’s broad, formidable back.

Set the record straight about what I was to him. What he was to me.

Shut them up by showing them quiet didn’t mean weak. That being gentle and meek didn’t mean there wasn’t a storm brewing inside me. Still water runs deep. The people who were the noisiest and most popular in my school often had the most to hide. I walked over to the girls, the sound of my squeaking Vans the only thing audible in the store. I stopped a few inches from them, my smile widening.

I recognized them. Two senior cheerleaders: Arabella and Alice. I’d seen them both at Vaughn’s party last year. Arabella had been all over Knight, teasing me about sleeping with him. Now I knew it wasn’t true. It had never been true. Knight had only slept with me. I could rub it in her face, I realized. But I wasn’t going to.

I was too old and too smart for her game.

“For your information,” I said pleasantly, watching in amusement as Arabella clutched a feather-trimmed, sequin and tulle baby pink dress to her chest, as if using it for protection from me. “I did not break up with Knight. We took a break while he attended to something much bigger and more serious than our relationship. He is mine. He was always mine. Not Poppy’s. Not yours, Arabella. Not anyone’s. And, if I didn’t make it clear before, I think I should now: I will destroy everything in my way, including your catty ass, if you ever say a negative word about him or me. Don’t mistake my politeness for weakness. I merely let you keep him occupied while I sorted out my own issues. But now I’m here. I will stay here. I will always be here for him.”

I took a deep breath, undeterred by the way they stared at me, wide-eyed and slack-mouthed, still in shock over the fact that I was speaking—and not just that, but having fun handing them their asses on a platter.

“I love him. So very much. And anything you say about our relationship is not going to change that. So I strongly suggest you move on to your next gossip victim, or better, stick your noses where they belong. In your own business. And by the way, this…” I plucked the dress from Arabella’s round-tipped, nude-colored fingernails, throwing the gown over my shoulder. “…will look gorgeous on Daria at her engagement party. From one bitch to another, thanks.”

With that, I turned around and marched triumphantly to Edie, Emilia, Melody, and Daria, who was now standing outside the dressing room in a green number, staring at me with an entertained smirk, her arms crossed over her chest.

I tossed the gown to her, and she caught it in the air.

“Proud of you, Saint Luna,” she said.

“For standing up to those idiots?” I asked. “I should have done that long ago.”

Daria shook her head, her grin widening. “No, for having perfect timing. I think your love declaration is appreciated, considering the circumstances.”

“Circumstances?” I blinked. “How do you mean?”

Daria’s gaze traveled to the glass door of the boutique. Behind the windows, I saw something that made my heart blossom and almost burst out of my chest.

Knight, Vaughn, Dad, Dean, Jaime, Lev, Racer, Penn, Hunter, and the entire football team of All Saints High were standing there, each guy holding a sign written in Knight’s awful handwriting.

Vaughn’s read: Luna

Dad’s: Would

Dean’s: You

Jaime’s: Do

Lev’s: Me

Racer’s: The

Penn’s: Honor

Hunter’s: And

Footballer: Be

Another baller’s: My

Another baller’s: Wife

Another baller’s: ???

Another baller’s: Chill.

Another baller’s: Just

Another baller’s: Kidding

Another baller’s: …

Another baller’s: (Mostly)

Another baller’s: Actually

Another baller’s: I’m

Another baller’s: Fucking

Another baller’s: Serious

Finally, Knight’s sign was the biggest, and held more than one word. It read:

Ride or die, Moonshine?

I opened my mouth, knowing how much was on the line. Knowing Knight, once again, had done everything backward. First the engagement, and then, right after, the declaration of love, which had yet to come. The patching-up part. The getting-back-together portion of the Knight show. But this was Knight for you.