Chapter 27 #2
“Hey, they’re just trying to make future generations of Prescott brats is all. Leave ‘em be. I was conceived on this campus.”
“Yeah?” Widow replies, rubbing a dirty hand against his jaw. With a shiver, Alexei removes another wipe and reaches out to swipe his chin clean. Adrian seems perplexed but he allows it. “Me, too.”
“Who in Prescott wasn’t?” Scarlett takes both of my hands and starts walking backward, dragging me into the overcrowded gym with its leaky ceiling and subsequent mold issues.
A real death trap. It reeks of weed, cigarettes, and florals.
Huge archways of real flowers. Big bouquets.
Vases on all the tables. Bribes, bribes, bribes from the rich kids.
The crowd parts for us, the rumor mill churning, gossip spreading. Everyone here knows about the wedding. Half of these Oak Valley brats were there, watching me bleed to death on the dais. Widow and Ash are waiting for us, surrounded by their own generous space bubble.
“Dude, Nisha and Hype really are lost in it, huh?” Scarlett says, studying the two women swaying in the center of the dance floor.
Hype is small and colorful in a kaleidoscope minidress to match her hair.
Nisha is dressed in gold bell-bottoms, heels, and a crop top.
They’re wrapped up together like squids, limbs entangled, hugging more than dancing.
“I’m filming this for their future wedding video,” Bastian says, slipping past us on his way to the dance floor.
At the end of the song, Nisha and Hype draw back from one another, staring into each other’s eyes like they’ve discovered hidden galaxies.
I cock my head, watching as Nisha takes Hype by the chin and claims her mouth like she’s plundering it.
Alexei gags, turning away.
“That is far too much tongue involved for a public place.” He pinches his nose and exhales, trying and failing to find a vantage point that isn’t contaminated by sex and kissing.
“And yet, watching them exchange saliva is the least repulsive thing happening in this room. Is this the current state of public education?”
“We’re homeschooling our brats,” Widow agrees, nice and smooth.
That makes me laugh, drawing his attention over his shoulder.
“You sure we’re safe to go onstage?” he asks, and I find myself appreciating the way Adrian checks in with me.
Like I’m the boss. He narrows his eyes, like he can sense the direction of my thoughts.
“I’m worried about leaving you alone in the crowd. ”
Ah. My lip curls. Weakness is anathema to me.
I’m disgusted by my near-death experience.
Not the aftercare though. In the past when I was injured, I had to bite down on a leather belt and scream my fevered self to sleep while hallucinating, all alone in the warehouse.
This time, I was coddled and petted and fucked and fed.
“It’ll take more than a bullet or three to knock me down.
Go collect your crown, oh Great Majesty.
” I sweep a bow and then regret it, catching Scarlett’s eye on the way up and noticing that she’s already clocked my pain.
Sigh. Having four lovers should be a handicap for her.
She needs to split her attention up, doesn’t she?
Does not feel like it if she even caught that tiny flinch from me.
“Bastian deserves a victory spanking for setting up that stupid vote.” Scarlett clasps her hands, expression softening as she takes in Nisha and Hype, still making out in the middle of the dance floor.
“Maybe, but not from you,” Widow agrees, sighing and tucking his hands in his pockets. Ash is loosening his tie again, tugging at his collar. They haven’t told him that they’ve rigged the vote, that he’s going to be crowned queen.
All around us, Prescott students are throbbing to the beat of “DADDY” by Victoria and Ashnikko. It’s an interesting choice of song. My guess is that Scarlett picked it; it’s one of her current favorites. My stalker abilities allow me to name every song, artist, and genre that she enjoys.
“That so?” Scarlett replies, her smile wide and wicked as Tuesday picks up the microphone. “I’ll be on my deathbed before I let you determine whether I can or can’t spank my friends.”
“I feel like something’s wrong,” Ash says suddenly, sounding panicked. He reaches for the sword and Alexei flicks his hand away.
“No.” Alexei’s voice is firm, like a command. Ash lets it ripple right over him, dropping the sword but continuing to scan the crowd like he’s nervous about something.
“Are you sure he can handle this, my weeping angel?” I whisper, putting my arm around Scarlett’s waist. “What if he startles and accidentally decapitates someone?”
“Won’t lie. I considered choosing you as the Snow Queen.” Scarlett covers her mouth with a hand and flicks those gorgeous eyes up to my face. “But that seemed a little cruel. Ash is a ham. He’ll love this.”
Hmm. Even with three bullet holes in me, I can protect Ash. Not sure that he needs me to. He’s been protecting himself for so long, it’s second nature. I understand because I’m the same way.
Tuesday is delivering some speech that I’m not listening to because all of my attention is focused on the softness in Scarlett’s eyes as she watches the stage.
Misty. Glassy. Thinking of Lemon, I’m sure.
Alexis, too. They will forever haunt the halls and streets of Prescott.
For us? This is goodbye, and it’s not bittersweet.
It tastes like victory. It tastes like winning. It tastes like fighting back against impossible odds and never giving up. With grit and claw and blood and tunnel vision, with violence and romance and obsession, we’ve navigated our way to the next level.
“Alright, bitches. You want to hear who this year’s Snow Queen is gonna be?
” Tuesday asks, gaze roaming the room for both threats and excitement.
She skims it off the top, enjoying the feeling of winning.
As she should. This is the Crimson Crew, winning.
This is us as a family, winning. “Cheer him on, friends. Mr. Ash Force is our queen for the night!”
“You ready to win with me, brother?” Widow holds out his hand as the spotlight swings over to Ash, throwing him into a bright, intrusive column of light. Keeping him safe. Even harder to kill him tonight, with all eyes on him like that. Oh, Scarlett.
“I’m the Snow Queen?” Ash asks as a horde of girls from Scarlett’s crew start shuffling him toward the stage.
Before they carry him off, he clasps hands with Widow and the pair of them end up getting taken hostage together.
Ash looks over his shoulder at us, silently requesting that we follow him. We do. We are. Already making our way up to stand in front of the stage as Ash and Widow end up on top of it. There’s a silver microphone in front of them. Tacky decorations hanging from the walls behind them.
The couple next to me is snorting cocaine from their pinky nails.
Tuesday puts a ridiculous silver tiara on Ash’s dark hair and everyone cheers.
“This is so goddamn ridiculous.” Widow is smirking as his name is called next, positioned next to Ash like a bodyguard. He gets a crown, too, a shitty welded one that matches the ring he gave Scarlett.
We should’ve known that Scarlett was never going to accept a crown from this miserable place. She doesn’t want to be the queen of Prescott.
“No detail is beyond you, is it?” I ask, enjoying the change of plans and the spark of my lover’s brilliance. “You know that they’re supposed to do coke off each other’s chests now?”
“Traditionally speaking, sure.” Scarlett gives me a wry look as Alexei claps his hands, enjoying a pocket of comfortable space around him that’s not available to anyone else in the gymnasium. Ah. It feels good to be on top. “Today, they’re just going to dance.”
“More than just,” I reply, right as the power goes off.
As scheduled. There are strings of lights all around the school, a soft white light to match the overdecorated Christmas tree in the front left corner of the gym.
Not just in here, but in all the hallways.
The empty classrooms. I had one of my contacts do the decorating.
“Oh. Bohnes.” Scarlett’s voice matches the expression on her face as a hushed awe ripples through the room. Giant snowflakes hang from the ceiling, spinning and catching the light on their silver sparkles. I also had Widow’s boys pick up a bunch of glow-in-the-dark tape and pass it out.
Partygoers are laughing, showing off their skeletons in the dark with the glowing tape they’ve stuck to their arms and legs and spines. Some have made tape circles on their hoodies for heads or crafted dicks on their crotches with neon pink, green, or yellow strips.
Ash exchanges a nervous glance with Widow, like he’s unsure what to do next.
“The King and Queen have to dance together. We can’t shuck all the traditions, boys!” Scarlett is laughing as I pull her into my arms, dragging her into the middle of the dance floor with her friends and the other guys. Alexei stays with us, recoiling when Bastian approaches him for a dance.
He ends up standing still, untouched, while Bastian dances around him.
Ash and Widow are spinning quite happily together. They’re both busting up laughing, one of them dressed in oil stains and denim, the other in wool and silk. Our current song is in Japanese, another of Scarlett’s picks. Such a clever girl, my Nightmare.
“That word they’re singing, yukiakari,” Ash tells Widow, like he’s excited about the music choice, “it means snow glow.”
Aaah. He’s so stupidly thrilled about something so stupidly small. Jonas, licking the tears off his young son’s face. Sickening.