by Eden O'Neill
This was different, girls in glittery gold dresses thrusting their hips against boys with silver rings on their fingers. The Court’s presence emanated through this place, but I’d yet to see Royal, LJ, Knight, and Jax. I may get lucky since LJ had been at work today just like me.
But then I saw them all over by the couches, a light burning through the air as they passed their own joint between them. They nearly all had girls, sometimes two or three under their lengthy wingspans. At the center, of course, was Royal, the last to take a hit before settling a hand on a girl in a bright pink dress. A repeat offender, I’d seen the redhead now two times with him in the span of a week. She’d been on the receiving end of the joint, smoke curling from her bright, fuchsia-colored lips before she giggled and pressed her mouth into Royal’s neck.
“Ew, gag.” Kiki spun me around, noticing the sight. She backed up against my hip with her arms in the air. “Might as well get a room.”
“Might as well,” I said, taking her hands before dancing with both Birdie and Kiki. Our party of basketball bitches sprinkled through the crowd, the tall girls easily made out.
“Try and try as she might, that’s all she’s going to get,” Shakira quipped, nearby us. “I swear, I wish Mira would just get over herself. She’s never getting Court kept.”
“Court kept?” I questioned.
Shakira nodded, then pointed to some of the other girls on the dance floor, the ones thrusting all over boys from the Court considering the chrome gorilla rings on the boys’ fingers. I hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing one of the rings up close yet, but the form in the metal was easily an animal’s bite. Shakira lowered to my level. “You see what they’re wearing?” she asked, pointing at the girls with Court boys. “The necklaces?”
I did, being spun by Kiki. They wore silver chains with some kind of pendant in the center. “Yeah?”
“That’s being Court kept,” Shakira explained. “The bitches that aren’t just sleeping around, but actually dating the Court boys have their own little society. They’re as good as kept women, lots of them marrying one of them after high school. It’s like a freaky-ass sisterhood.”
I peeled my gaze off the necklaces over chests both large and small beneath slinky dresses. “And Royal never ‘keeps’ a girl?”
“Girl, none of them do,” Shakira said. “Not Jax, Knight, or LJ either. They fuck women. That’s it. They don’t keep them.”
I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised considering the state in which I’d initially come across Mira. I hadn’t known her name up until now, not that I cared. Feeling winded, I decided to take a potty break and get some air from the floor. Of course, Birdie, Kiki, and Shakira went with me, the she-wolf pack traveling in groups. I took the longest since I actually had to use the bathroom, and they waited outside as I washed my hands. I bumped a girl on my way to grab from the stack of towels, and none other than blue eyes and fiery red hair met me when I gazed up.
Mira tossed a veil of red hair over her shoulder, frowning at me when I attempted to move around her.
“Sorry,” I said, grabbing the towel. Trying to make my exit quick, I barely dried my hands before having to move around her again to discard the towel in the designated hamper.
“You’re excused,” she said, her gaze lingering a little too long before shifting to her reflection in the mirror. She looked at me, though, frowning. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
Only school and, yeah, the community center. She probably hadn’t noticed me, though. I shrugged, passive about it. “Probably school or something.”
I really didn’t want to be the reminder for her about a certain meme I’d been a part of, and when she merely nodded, I let out a breath. I’d completely fallen out of this girl’s head the moment her attention went from me to the lipstick she started to apply from her purse, and I was glad for it. When she started to pull out her phone, I took advantage of a quick exit, easing out of the bathroom and nearly busted out in laughter at how awkward all that was. I told the girls about it back outside the bathroom, and as we’d just been talking about Mira, they laughed as well.
“That girl’s a nightmare. Stay far the hell away,” Birdie explained later in the kitchen. She handed us all red Solo cups filled with beer, which Kiki and Shakira tipped at us before taking back off for the dance floor. Birdie took a sip from her own. “That girl’s crazy. All Court bitches are but especially that one. She’s been trying to bag Royal for years. It’s really some kind of pathetic.”
A task she was completely engaged in right now from what I could see. Mira had returned to Royal’s lap, but now, she currently had him looking at her phone screen over her shoulder. Whatever he saw made his green eyes narrow and placed a hard frown on his lips. Immediately, he pushed her off him, getting up and leaving the circle.
What’s that about?
After looking at the phone, LJ followed, Jax and Knight pulling up the rear without even looking. I was pulled from the scene by Birdie when she took me back to the dance floor and easily forgot about all of it as I took sips between dance steps. The pair of us were just getting into dancing when some of the jocks from the lacrosse team announced beer pong out on the patio. A small group headed over there, and for something to do, Birdie and I went too. We watched the idiots outside as they played, getting completely wasted to the point of being sloppy, and I laughed, bumping into the shoulder of a girl clicking on her phone. It’d been the second time I’d run into Mira tonight, but when she gazed up this time, she smirked at me.
“Is this what you used to look like?” she asked, showing pictures she’d clearly been going over with the friends beside her. She swiped right. “You really should make your profile private.”
Mira and her friends laughed, and Mira flashed her phone at me so I could see exactly what she was talking about. She’d social media stalked me, my own photos staring back at me. They were pictures taken my freshman year, photos where I was heavier than I was now. About forty extra pounds sat on hips under baggy jeans and under oversize shirts worn specifically to hide it all. They’d been photos from a long time ago and photos that triggered a very unsettling time for me but not so much because of the way I looked. In actuality, they were a constant reminder of a certain someone and times I deeply wanted to forget. My self-worth at that time hadn’t been great, and because of that, I allowed someone into my life who took advantage of that. He took advantage of me, and all these photos did was show me that.
Had this been what she’d shown Royal? And had he been that put off by them he physically had to get away from her and what she’d showed him? I felt sick that I actually cared how he’d feel about how I used to look, and peering over, Birdie shot daggers in Mira’s direction.
“What the fuck, Mira?” Birdie questioned. “You’re stalking people now?”
Mira crossed her arms. “The only stalker is TP here, Big Bird.”
Birdie’s eyes narrowed. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the insult or whatever acronym Mira used. Birdie frowned. “TP?”
“Trash Panda?” Mira giggled, making her friends laugh when she nudged them. She eyed me. “I saw you shoveling dog poo today at the community center, TP. That’s where I realized I’ve seen you before. Oh, and of course that meme with Royal. Is scooping up dog crap what you do when you’re not stalking him—”
Birdie pushed through to get to her, but I stopped her, able to handle this myself.
I propped hands on my hips. “I’d rather scoop shit than be caught sucking dick out in the school’s boathouse. Is that what you do when you’re not all over Royal like some cheap piece of ass?”
“You little cunt—”
“Ladies. Ladies.” A member of Court pushed between us, but I only knew by his ring gorilla. He pulled two drinks off the beer pong table. “Why not settle this over a game?” he slurred, handing us the cups. “It’s more fun that way. Whoever can drink the most wins.”
Challenge accepted, I guzzled the booze without question, and a
table of shots nearby, downed one of those for good measure. No one. Absolutely no one could beat me when it came to shit like this. I could definitely hold my liquor. We partied harder than these uppity bitches back home.
The shot burning itself like liquid fire down my throat, I slammed down both that and the beer cup, waiting for Mira to do something. By then, a nice little crowd had formed around us, and the roars sounded through the air, my name being chanted by people I’d never talked to before in my life. They apparently liked the show, and I tipped my chin to them, hands on my hips.
Not having that, Mira forced down a cup of beer. It took her a bit longer, but she got it down. After a shot that made her step back a little, she took another, the second one easier. She placed the shot glasses down, and when I went for more alcohol, my arm was grabbed by Birdie.
“Don’t, December. She’s not worth it.”
I ripped my arm away. I wouldn’t stop, not with all these people watching and what Mira had done lingering in the air. She’d showed Royal those pictures, Royal who could ruin my life with like, two words in this place. He literally just had to give people permission, and it’d be all over the place, my past everywhere, and if people decided to look into it more…
I drank more, put down more than I should have, and Mira didn’t even wait for me to finish before she starting doing a dance of her own. I didn’t think either of us saw what was happening between us, taking down shot after shot while people chanted around us. I got a lot of “Go, go, go!” but a fair amount of stops too. These came from Birdie and eventually, Shakira, Kiki, and the rest of the basketball team when the entire house joined us out on the patio.
Shaking, I forced down vomit, the nausea threatening to end this game here and now, but I wouldn’t let it. I downed one more shot, almost falling over when I placed the shot glass down.
Mira didn’t even grab one, and within the inebriated state of her eyes, I saw it. She’d hit her limit, maybe three shots ago, and I’d won.
I knew when she collapsed to the floor.
She literally collapsed, a gasp and a few screams in the crowd from her friends when a wasted girl fell in her glitter dress in the middle of a high-rise patio. The crowd honed in around her, myself included. Touches to her cheek and shakes couldn’t even get her up, and the vomit did threaten this time, hot and harsh when it charged from my stomach but for other reasons. I started seeing visions of Mira in the hospital, visions of her dead and myself the reason.
Frantic, I started to shout to tell someone to call 911 but that stopped when four boys the size of gladiators pushed the crowd. Knight, the biggest, charged through the front, but it’d been Royal himself to create the most reaction. The crowd on the patio instantly divided for him and one look between me, the tossed-over cups on the table, and Mira sprawled out on the ground, had his lustrous eyes blazing green fire.
He instantly was on his knees with her, attempting to revive her with Jax, Knight, and LJ at his sides. He called out for one of them to call an ambulance, which they did, Jax suddenly completely serious when he got out his cell and explained the situation. The other boys pushed everyone a good few feet away from the scene, giving the pair space.
I fought through them. “Is she going to be okay?” I barely got the words out, stumbling and completely inebriated myself.
Royal saw that, instantly shooting daggers at me. “What the hell did you think you were doing? She obviously can’t take as much as you.”
I didn’t like how he said the words, like I was that same trash Mira talked about. There’d been judgment there, me different from all of them, and feeling really sick, I could only watch as Royal Prinze slid his thick arms under Mira’s body and stood with her with what was obviously a strong embrace. No effort at all came when he brought her from the floor to his chest.
“Go home, December. Now,” he commanded, treating me like the epitome of a child. He turned away, walking with Mira back into the house, and so embarrassed, I stepped through the crowd. I didn’t stick around long enough to wait for the ambulance to see if she was okay.
If I did, I would have vomited and embarrassed myself even more.
Nine
The Past - three years ago
“She’s having a hard time down here, Rowan. A real hard time. Can’t you get it through your head? Your daughter… Your daughter needs you.”
I closed my eyes in my bedroom, squeezing down tears as I curled up under my sheets. Aunt Celeste went into her bedroom to take calls she didn’t want me to hear, but it never worked. It was the best place to hear her, and my ears didn’t even need to be up against the wall we shared.
“I know she made the decision to live down here. I know but she’s just a kid, goddamn it. She shouldn’t have to go through this alone. You know she hasn’t left her bedroom for weeks?”
I hugged my body tighter, shaking through my tears.
“All right. Well, I’ll just continue to raise your daughter for you, then.”
I flinched at the slam down of the phone, my head touching the wall as I sobbed. The only thing that took me out of it was the creak of my bedroom door behind me, light streaming into my room from the hallway. I turned, the silhouette not my aunt but someone else.
I turned back, closing my eyes again. Stiff, I didn’t move, not even when my bed sagged down and my sister put her arms around me.
“Em?” Paige whispered, her scent like lilacs. She smelled so much like Mom it hurt sometimes.
I cried some more, the will not within me to protest. I was weak. I couldn’t tell my sister I didn’t need her because I did. I turned in her arms when she prodded me, her hands on my face. We looked alike, my sister and me, but where she looked more like Mom, I looked like Dad.
Her dark hair she had up in a ponytail, her smile on me through that soft light from the hall.
“Why are you here again?” I asked her. She’d come for me so many times, and the reasons hadn’t been because of Dad. They’d been about me, me and my mistakes.
Things were supposed to be different in high school, a new start and a place to be me and no longer be the girl who lost her mom to cancer. That’d followed me all the way from grade school, poor little December Lindquist who lost her mom and her whole family in one sweep. I couldn’t leave LA, though. I couldn’t leave Mom and the memories of her here. Dad may have been able to do that and even Paige, but I couldn’t.
Things were supposed to be different.
I cradled my belly, the loss still there. I didn’t think it would ever go away. I never got the chance to feel my baby, too early the doctors said, but I had felt something. I felt it deep inside my soul, and the moment it was gone, the moment I let him or her go, I felt that loss.
I sobbed again in my sister’s neck. She hadn’t answered my question, but she didn’t have to do so. She’d been here every day leading up to the abortion and stayed many days after. She was probably so behind in school.
“I’m so stupid,” I whispered. “I’m so dumb.” I allowed someone to tell me I was pretty, that I meant something to someone when I meant nothing. I was nothing to Dean, and he showed me that the moment I told him I’d gotten pregnant. He told me I was crazy. He told me I was a liar, then called me a whore. He’d called me that when before he’d shared nothing but love, both for me and to me. He’d said he loved me and he only wanted to be with me, and I’d believed him. I did because I was weak and he showed me attention when no one else did. I wasn’t just the girl with the dead mom. I wasn’t the chubby girl who gained a bunch of weight after her mom died. I was just a girl he loved.
I hadn’t even wanted to have sex.
“I’m so weak,” I continued into my sister’s neck. “I’m so…”
“The strongest person I know.”
I looked up at my sister, thinking I didn’t hear her right. I shook my head. “I’m not. I…”
“Did what you felt was right,” she said, her face stern. “You’re still here, Em. You’re still starin
g the world right in the face, and that makes you strong.”
I didn’t feel strong. I felt like the worst person on the planet. I fell for a boy who used and abused me, then made the decision to abort my pregnancy after a mistake I made. I was selfish.
“You know, you may not believe me,” Paige said, wiping my tears away. “But soon, you’re not going to be in this bed. Soon, you’re going to be all cried out, and you know what you’ll be doing then?”
I shook my head, the tears blinking down.
She massaged my hand. “You’re going to be smiling. You’re going to be alive and sharing that Em smile with me and the rest of the world.” She leaned in. “One day, you’re going to be so far on the other side of this that the very thought of it will make you feel like it was another life and a completely different person.”
I wiped my face. “How do you know?” It wasn’t possible what she said, a different reality.
Paige crooked a finger under my chin. “Because I can see what you can’t. I can see beyond all this and who you actually are. See right now, Em, you’re burying all of it. You’re hiding, but one day you won’t hide. One day, you’ll truly be who you’re supposed to be.”
I scanned her face in the soft light, still unable to fathom it. She couldn’t be right. She couldn’t be.
Pushing her arms over my shoulders, my sister pulled me into her, continuing to let me cry again against her. So many nights she held me like this, had to bring me back when I couldn’t do so myself. She kissed the top of my head. “I see you, Em. I see what you can’t see, and I always will, forever.”
Ten
The Present
I vomited to the point of thrashing, my head deep in the toilet until nothing but stomach bile came up. I idly wondered if I should go to the hospital considering how much fluid I was losing, but the thought of seeing Mira in a hospital bed or, even worse, dead—I shut that thought down quickly. My dad would obviously find out as well. They’d call him wherever he was. He hadn’t been home when the girls drove me home, but he would be eventually.
