by Selena
“You liked him picking on you?”
She shrugs, her face going even redder. “It’s not that,” she says quickly. “But like… I know what I look like, Crystal.” She gives me a hard look.
“You’re sexy,” I say. “You have curves. Guys like that.”
“I’m fat,” she says. “And, like, I know I’m supposed to care, but I don’t even really want to change that. I’m okay with it.”
“Which is fine.”
“Yeah, but guys like the Darlings? They want girls who are curvy like you.”
“He labeled me a dog, too,” I point out. “I don’t think it matters what you look like. They just pick people at random to terrorize everyone else into falling in line.”
Dixie shrugs. “Still. They’d never give a girl like me the time of day. When I was the Darling Dog, though…”
I rub my forehead. “Dixie. That’s fucked up. You don’t have to choose between being treated like a dog and being invisible.”
“Maybe not,” she says. “But if I want to be visible to guys like them?” She closes her eyes and groans. “And I do. I’m sorry, I know it’s as pathetic as that girl wanting your friend to pay attention to her, but oh my god, Crystal. They’re the Darlings.”
“Well, I think what he’s doing is sick. And I’m going to stop them. No more Darling Dogs.”
Dixie stares at me like I’m crazy. “You can’t do that.”
“Maybe not,” I say, standing and holding out a hand. “But I’m going to try.”
“How?” Dixie asks, letting me pull her to her feet before wiping her hands on her skirt.
“I don’t know,” I say. “But I’ve been there. If anyone understands a bully, it’s me.”
fifteen
There’s only one way to win with bullies if you don’t want to join them. My brothers have erased any possibility of joining them, and I probably couldn’t have changed their ways anyway. I made the mistake of joining a bully before. Which leaves only one option with the Darlings. Beat them.
The only question is, how?
The next day, the ax falls. The entire school is buzzing with news from the moment we walk in. People shoot us dirty looks, and as we walk down the hall, a chorus of deep, furious woofs follows us. I walk forward on trembling legs, keeping my eyes straight ahead. My brothers don’t know this is for me alone. They haven’t witnessed it before.
When we arrive at my locker, Royal touches my elbow. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I say, twisting the combination lock.
Duke grins and blows kisses to the masses, seemingly oblivious to the hatred that accompanies the barking. For him, attention is attention. He’s eating it up.
“Once they see us play, they’ll be singing a different tune,” Baron says, leaning against the locker next to mine.
“They’ll be groveling on the floor for a chance to suck our dicks,” Duke says. “And I’ll remind them exactly how much they have to make up for.”
Royal walks me to class, where even Colt doesn’t want to sit with me. I figure out the hate, though. Preston is suspended from the next game, which is Homecoming. Devlin is suspended from the team indefinitely. I know it’s perfect, just what my brothers wanted. But I can’t help but think of the other side of it. Just as Dixie reminded me that I deserved my spot on the cheer squad at my last school, I know that Devlin’s position isn’t one he takes for granted. I hear him out there throwing the ball almost every night. He’s worked for that position for who knows how long. And here come my brothers, ready to steal it out from under him. He didn’t do anything to deserve that.
I wonder what he’ll have left by the time the Dolces are done with him. He’s lost his beautiful car. He’s lost his place on the team. According to Dixie he doesn’t date, but from the number of days that both Dolly and Preston leave class together, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even have his biggest fan anymore.
That night, when I can’t sleep, I stand on my balcony listening to the silence in the Darlings’ backyard. A single light is on upstairs, and I stare at the gentle glow inside the rectangle, willing Devlin to appear. But the house remains quiet. He threatened to break me, but I’m afraid my brothers have broken him first. He has given up his midnight practice, and at school, he avoids me entirely.
A thought worms its way into my mind, refusing to leave. What if I’m not the only bully in my family? A cool wind rustles the magnolia in the backyard, and I pull the belt of my robe tight around me, but I can’t seem to get warm. I can’t shake the lingering thought, even when I go back inside and lock the door, close the curtains, and crawl into bed, pulling my pillows over my head. What my brothers are doing, that’s not the same as what I did. They saw something they wanted, and they went for it. That’s what people are supposed to do.
People aren’t supposed to cut down another person for no reason. That’s what I did. It’s totally different than what my brothers are doing. They’re ambitious, determined, and persevering. I was small and mean and weak. That’s the difference. My brothers are strong, a force to be reckoned with. I’m weak. I saw that in another person, and I wanted to destroy it. They don’t care who the Darlings are or what they want. If the Darlings didn’t exist, they’d still want the same thing.
I roll over, pressing the pillow down over my ears, as if I can block out the silence of Devlin not practicing. This is silly. My brothers aren’t bad. They just don’t take no for an answer. They know what they want, and they take it. They just don’t care who they have to step on to get it.
*
Friday rolls around at last, and with some trepidation, I agree to join my brothers at the homecoming game. We all pile into the Range Rover and go to pick up Dixie. She lives in a regular subdivision in a new house that could be found in the suburbs of any city anywhere. She rushes out and flings open the door, her words cutting off when she sees all of my brothers in the car with me. Her cheeks turn pink, and her eyes go wide with fear, as if she’s afraid we’re playing a horrible trick on her and we’re going to speed off laughing.
“Hop that fat ass up here on my lap,” Duke says, patting his thigh and grinning at her.
“Don’t call her that,” I say, throwing an elbow into his side.
“Hey, it’s not an insult,” he says, taking Dixie’s hand and helping her onto his lap. “If she wasn’t your friend, I’d have my dick buried ten inches deep in this ass.”
“Cut it out,” King snaps from the front seat.
“Thank you,” I say. “I don’t think my friend needs to hear about your perversions, especially not when she’s sitting in your lap.”
“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” Duke says, squeezing Dixie’s hips. “Am I right?”
She lets out a squeal of laughter, blushing even harder than she usually does around my brothers.
When we get to the game, the parking lot is packed. You’d think it was a Patriot’s game the way people have decked out their cars in black and gold. Windows are painted with “Go Knights,” along with various jersey numbers.
As we climb out of the car, a group of fans goes tearing through the parking lot carrying a huge black flag with a gold knight insignia on it. They’re all wearing Knights jerseys and full face paint.
I catch my brothers glancing at each other. King grins, and I can feel the excitement radiating off them as we head for the gates. Not just excitement at watching a football game, but excitement at this new and very welcome change from our old school. Sure, people went to those games. Parents of players, other students, and a few alumni. This is so much bigger than that.
After the uneasy week at school, it’s nice to see my brothers bursting with positive energy again. One look in Royal’s dark eyes, and I know I was being too hard on them the other night. Royal might be as fucked up as the rest of us, but he’s good and strong and protective, and he’d do anything for me.
I give him a quick hug before falling back to walk next to Dixie.
“It looks like the
entire town is here,” I comment, searching the crowd automatically, not realizing I’m looking for Devlin until the little surge of hope inside me dies when I don’t find him.
“Yeah,” she says. “We’re playing Faulkner High.”
“Ah,” I say, remembering that Daddy mentioned them. “Our public school rival.”
“We only play them once every season,” Dixie says. “And maybe once in the playoffs. Whoever wins has bragging rights for the entire year. I’m sure the Darlings have been over there pranking their school all week. They barely even remembered we exist this week.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I say. “Besides, I think my brothers have kept them busy.”
She shrugs and looks up at the stands. “Faulkner won last year. So, this is our big chance to get even. The whole town waits for this game every season.”
I try to comprehend a game that big in New York. Besides the Superbowl, there’s nothing that could get the whole city excited over a football game. And the apocalypse itself couldn’t shut down stores.
“Maybe you’ll see your graveyard hottie,” I say, nudging her elbow with mine.
“Who?” she asks, her eyes widening.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
“That’s just a guy I went to elementary with,” she says, her cheeks going pink. “I don’t even know him anymore.”
“He sure seemed to know you,” I tease.
“He was with his girlfriend,” she points out. “Who, I might add, is another one of the Darling cousins.”
“And she goes to Faulkner High?” I ask, covering my heart and pretending to be scandalized.
“I think it has more to do with her boyfriend than anything,” she says. “They definitely live in the right part of town.”
“Well, I guess you shouldn’t go after him,” I say. “Or the Darling’s will put a hit out on you.”
Speaking of, I glance around, making sure all my brothers are within my line of sight. I keep waiting for the retribution. I know better than to think Devlin’s had enough. If he’s anything like my brothers, there will never be enough now. He’s got a grudge, and he won’t stop until he’s carried through with a punishment warranted by the crime.
“Let’s get popcorn,” Daddy says. He lowers his voice and winks at me. “Gotta support the local economy, after all. It’s good to let people know you care.”
I’m not sure how much he actually cares and how much he just wants to be seen, but I don’t say it. I know appearances are everything for a family like ours. If this is a community event, you can be damn sure Daddy will be there, the star of his family show, surrounded by his beautiful offspring.
I suddenly feel disloyal for my thoughts. Daddy loves football. Maybe he really is excited about the game, about scoping out the competition just like my brothers are. If anyone’s more excited about them getting on the team than they are, it’s him. He may want to look like the star of the Dolce clan, but he wants us to be the stars of everything else. Whatever matters most to our school, we should be at the very center of that.
“Let’s go get seats,” Royal says, taking my elbow and steering me toward the stands. I glance back over my shoulder, but King falls in on my other side, his presence reassuring me. The Darlings aren’t going to do anything here, in front of the whole town. I’m reminded of that when I see the cop who arrested them chatting with some locals. Devlin’s probably not even here. He’s at home, most likely cooking up some horrible revenge scheme with Preston right now.
The bleachers are packed with people of all ages, from moms with babies to great-grandparents. Half of them are talking while the other half cheer even though the players aren’t on the field. The cheerleaders start a chant and everyone in the stands starts yelling along with them. I spot Lacey, my guide from the first day, in the squad. No surprise there. Anyone deigned worthy of being a Darling Doll, of sitting with the cousins at lunch if there’s enough space at their table by the time she arrives, must be popular.
King nudges me. “Check out the cheerleaders while we’re here.”
“Not really into girls, but thanks.”
He gives me an annoyed glance. “You need to know what you’re up against.”
“I don’t think I’m really into the whole cheering thing anymore.”
“Tell that to Dad,” he says, guiding me along a row of metal bleachers to a space just big enough for us to ask a couple if they can scoot down to make room for the seven of us. The night is cool, and the woman has a black fleece blanket draped across her knees with the Willow Heights crest on it. These people take their football really fucking serious.
Half the stands are filled with people shaking black and gold pompoms. I look around in awe, not sure if I’m more intimidated or impressed by the sight. If I got on the cheer squad, I’d be under scrutiny from the entire town. Literally. Across the way, the Faulkner High stands are just as crazy. One look at the crowd, and I already know Faulkner’s colors are navy and white.
On the field on their side, a redheaded cheerleader is yelling at her squad. Her back is to her crowd, but I can tell from all the way across the field that she’s pissed. Glad she’s not the team captain I’ll have to impress. Not that I’m going out for cheer. I’ll get my therapist to recommend against it if Dad can’t be reasoned with.
“Cheer tryouts were last year,” Dixie says. Her cheeks redden, and she ducks her head. For a second, I think she’s still nervous around my brothers, but then I realize that’s not it.
“You tried out?” I ask.
“It’s stupid,” she mumbles. “Like you ever see a cheerleader who looks like me up there.”
“That’s bullshit,” I burst out. “There are all kinds of cheerleaders.”
“Really?” Dixie asks, nodding at the girls. I look them over, noting how entirely homogenous the Willow Heights side is. There’s one biracial girl, but otherwise, the most diversity apparent on the squad is a petite girl with a bob. Otherwise, every single girl is white, slender, and with a long pony swinging behind her. The two boys on the squad look like body builders-in-training.
“What bullshit,” I mutter. “You should get to be on the squad if you’re good.”
“Are you?” Dixie asks. “I mean, you were captain of your last squad.”
“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “I’m good.”
“She’s really fucking good,” Royal says, putting an arm around me and squeezing.
It’s true. I was good. I worked for it, but that just made me want it all the more. I’d be lying if I said there isn’t a part of me aching to be down there, that my fingers aren’t twitching to hold a pompon, that I’m not watching every step of their choreography.
But after it all went down last year, I didn’t want to paste a smile on my face and cheer. I didn’t want to be on top of the pyramid, or even the social ladder. I wanted to disappear. It was spring, so there was less for us to do than during football season. I stayed on the squad because I had a note from my psychiatrist, but I knew I wouldn’t cheer again in the fall.
Now, though… This is a new school. A big part of me thinks it would be a mistake to go after a spot on the squad, just like my brothers are doing for football. If I take a spot, I take someone’s place. Someone who tried out and earned that spot, someone who might have stayed up all night practicing routines just like I did.
On the other hand, I’m better than at least half the girls out there. And if they’re really such bitches they’d cut Dixie because she’s a little bigger than they are, I want to do something about it.
“How good are you?” I ask, turning to Dixie.
“What?”
“How good are you? Maybe we can change their minds.”
“What are you talking about?” she asks, her eyes widening. “You can’t just… I mean, I’m pretty good, I guess. I haven’t practiced in months, though. I stopped after I didn’t make it.”
“Then start again,” I say. “I w
ill, too. We’ll show these bitches what we can do.”
sixteen
There’s something about high school football that no other sport can touch. It’s in the lights, the chill in the evening air, the fans in the bleachers. It’s in the green grass and the white lines, the smell of popcorn and the crackle of the loudspeaker. To be a part of that, to stand on the sidelines and cheer, was magic. But the field has more than magic. It has power. It’s power leaches up through cleats and carries through the halls at school. Tonight, my brothers make a power grab.
“What are you doing?” Dixie asks, peering over my shoulder.
“Nothing,” I say, shoving my phone into my pocket without posting the blog. I glance over to make sure my brothers are engaged in conversation and won’t ask the same thing.
“You’re always writing on your phone,” Dixie says. When I don’t answer, she pushes her elbow against mine. “Spill. You have to tell me. No secrets. Rules of friendship, remember?”
“It’s nothing important,” I say, lowering my voice to near a whisper. “I just have a blog.”
“Really?” she asks, leaning in like I’m sharing juicy gossip. “Do you have a lot of followers?”
“Um, no,” I say. “It’s private. No one can read it but me. It’s just… A way to express myself. Like a diary that my brothers can’t find and look through.”
“So, they don’t know?” she whispers, glancing past me to them.
“No,” I say. “And I plan to keep it that way, so shut up about it, okay?”
She mines zippering her lips, a smile shining in her eyes that makes my heart squeeze for her. It’s like she’s never had a real friend before, never shared anyone’s secret. I want to hug her and shake her at the same time. She’s so impossibly transparent.
Dad and the twins appear a minute later, loaded down with popcorn, soda, and candy. Apparently Daddy was serious about supporting the local economy. It looks like he bought out the entire concession stand. As soon as he sits down, he starts scoping the stands. A flare of irritation goes through me when I realize what he’s doing. He’s looking for someone important, making sure they see him. Just like last week, when he stood me up for our father-daughter time because some city planner wanted to chat over drinks.
