Kennedy didn’t respond. She was just staring at the dance floor where tons of students had stopped dancing.
It was like someone had lit up a big neon sign saying to quiet down. Heads turned toward me. Everything was hushed. I swore the music volume even lowered. And then the whispering started.
“What is happening?” I said to Kennedy out of the corner of my mouth.
“They’re probably staring at you because of that song Matt sung on the float. Just ignore them. Who cares what they think?”
I wish I didn’t.
“Come on. Let’s get some drinks.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd like the whispers didn’t bother her at all.
I wanted to be like Kennedy when I grew up. She was so good at brushing things off. I tried to stand up a little straighter.
I swore I heard someone whisper the word slut. And I had a feeling that some of the whispers weren’t about me. Kennedy gripped my hand a little tighter. She’d heard the word thrown at her too. But the smile remained on her face.
For some reason I found it easier to be strong for her even though it was hard to be strong for myself. I squeezed her hand back. “You’re right,” I said. “Who cares what they think?”
We stopped in front of the bar that was usually decked out with alcoholic beverages for adult events. Tonight it was filled with juices and sodas galore.
James was standing there, drumming his fingers along the wooden bar top. His crown was lopsided on his head, but otherwise he looked more sober than I’d seen him all week. Maybe being the king to Isabella’s queen had finally sobered him up.
But when the bartender wasn’t looking, James unscrewed the cap off a flask. He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking and proceeded to dump the whole flask into the punch bowl. He shoved the flask back in his pocket just before the bartender turned around.
“Can I get you ladies anything?” the bartender asked, completely oblivious to what James had just done.
“I’ll have some punch,” Kennedy said and stepped forward.
I opened my mouth but then closed it. Kennedy could drink one glass and I could still keep my promise to Uncle Jim. Honestly, if people were whispering about me being a slut, I’d want a drink too. I’d keep an eye on her.
“What about you?” James asked me. “Don’t you want some too?” He tried to straighten his crown but it just made it more lopsided.
“Um…no thanks.”
For some reason that made him smile. Smiles from James were few and far between. Especially real ones.
I wasn’t sure why he was even talking to me, let alone smiling at me. Aside from Matt’s performance today and his texts, all the Untouchables had been avoiding me like the plague ever since the truth had come out. Well, except for Mason tonight. He’d been weirdly kind. And he’d hinted that the Caldwells and Hunters weren’t really speaking anymore. Which broke my heart.
“So no drink,” he said as Kennedy joined me by my side. “How about a dance then?”
I forced myself not to look over my shoulder, even though I couldn’t believe James was asking me for a dance. Wait…why was he asking me? “Actually, Kennedy and I…”
“Kennedy is just going to drink this real quick and join you two on the dance floor in a bit,” Kennedy said. She raised her eyebrows and stared at me like I was insane.
Which was weird because she was the one that was acting insane. James and I weren’t friends. He was nice sometimes. Other times he was just plain cruel. And I didn’t feel like playing whatever game he was currently making up in his head. “Um…”
“Come on, Brooklyn,” he said and put his arm out for me. “I promise I won’t bite.”
I glanced at Kennedy who was shooing me away. This felt like some kind of weird trap. But I wasn’t exactly sure how to get out of it without looking like an ass. And after what Matt had done to James? The least I could do was cheer him up with a dance. I looped my arm through his and the smile came back to his face.
A slow song cut in as soon as we walked onto the dance floor. He pulled me in a little closer. Too close. I could smell his cologne and the mint on his breath. Why was he so close?
“Is Rachel here?” I asked.
James’ hands settled on my waist. “What do you think?”
“Well…if you’re anything like me…you haven’t spoken to her all week.”
He laughed. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
I looked up at him. There was nothing I could say. If Matt was telling the truth, Rachel had come on to him. Not the other way around. And I didn’t want to ask James about what he thought actually happened. It would just make everything worse. “So you aren’t speaking to her. Or Matt?”
“Or Mason.”
I nodded. “Or Mason. Aren’t they your best friends?”
“Best friends don’t fuck their said best friends’ girlfriends.”
Fair enough. “Congrats on being homecoming king.” It was a terrible segue, and we both knew it.
He laughed again.
It was so strange hearing him laugh. I liked the sound. I wished he’d do it more.
“It was rigged,” he said. “The homecoming king. I’m sure Mason won. Everyone actually likes him. Well, except for all those girls he screwed and dumped.”
“I think they make up enough of the student body that he wouldn’t have won.” But now that I thought about it, Mason was the one always high-fiving people in the hallway. He was usually smiling. He wasn’t nearly as silent and brooding as James.
James shrugged. His expensive tux felt like silk against my forearm. “It was still rigged, trust me. Isabella found out she was going to win queen, by threatening someone I’m sure. And then she manipulated it for me to be king.”
“I’m sure she didn’t.” Although, I wasn’t so sure. That sounded a lot like something Isabella would do. Threats and manipulation were her first language.
“No, she told me as much.”
Oh. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? I’m the freaking king.” He didn’t look so happy anymore.
“Well, it looks good on you.” I reached up and straightened his crown for him.