The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things

I tell Grace a little about Shane as we lock up. She beams at me. “I envy you, Sage. First love is the best. He’s the one you’ll compare everyone else to hereafter.”


Her assumption that we’ll break up takes the shine off my joy. I don’t say anything because Grace treats me like an adult, mostly, and she’d be upset if she knew how much reality bums me out. I mean, she’s right. Romance usually doesn’t last at sixteen, but you don’t want to think about it. You just want to feel.

“Great,” I mumble. “Night, Grace.”

I unfasten my bike chain while she locks up. Then I go about my nightly reflective tape ritual. So embarrassing. She laughs at me, shaking her head as she walks to her car. The streetlights are bright here, but once I leave the small downtown area, it gets dark fast.

I’m pedaling slowly toward home when I hear a car coming. Since I’m on the sidewalk, it shouldn’t be a problem, but the screech of tires scares me. I throw a look over my shoulder and find a black truck about to eat me. I wobble sideways and land hard on my hands and knees. Its tires hit the curb, bouncing toward me. Scrambling backward, I come against the fence that keeps people from screwing around in the auto body parking lot.

The headlights switch to high beam, practically blinding me. I clench my phone, already finding 911 with my fingertips. Then Dylan climbs out of the cab, propping his arms on top of the door. “Not such a scary bitch now, are you?”

His stillness is the only reason I don’t complete the call. “Isn’t it exhausting?”

“What?”

“Being such an asshole all the time. Don’t you occasionally want the day off?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” he snaps.

“I know there’s something really wrong with you.”

He growls and comes around the door, but when I raise my phone, he stops. “You pretend to be so nice, but deep down, you’re as bad as everyone else.”

“I’m nice to those who deserve it,” I correct.

“And you think I’m not?”

“No,” I say. “You made life hell for a couple of people who are important to me.”

Dylan clenches a fist. “Lila’s using you, she’s tired of her old crew. That’s what she does, constantly reinvents herself because if she didn’t, she’d have to take a long look in the mirror.”

“Says the guy who lied when he told the whole school he popped her cherry.”

“Whatever. You’ll get a taste of her poison sooner or later.”

“What do you want, Dylan?”

He bites his lip. His followers would lose all respect if they could see how uncertain he looks at this moment. “I was wondering … how do you know about … them?”

No question that he means his mom and the principal. “I saw them kissing in his office.”

“Goddammit. I warned her. I told her to be careful.” He runs a harried hand over his short hair. “Do you have any idea how tired I am of dealing with this shit?”

“No.” I consider saying I don’t care, either but maybe it will help me understand why he’s such a dick to everyone if I listen.

“Since I was thirteen, I’ve been hearing guys talk about what a MILF my mom is. I have to pretend it doesn’t bother me or they’d just do it even more.”

“So that’s why you pick on people at school? You’re deflecting.”

Dylan makes a derisive sound. “You sound like a shrink.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”


If he acts the way he does out of some misguided idea that he’s protecting his mother, then I can’t hate him entirely. Dylan, Shane, and I are tied together through a bizarre trifecta of the maternal spectrum. This jackhole won’t thank me for that insight, however. And I still don’t know what he wants, so I fold my arms expectantly.

“I’m giving you a chance to back off. Bad things happen to people who threaten my mom.”

“Excuse me?” Both my brows go up. “I haven’t done anything. And I won’t, as long as you leave us alone. That was the deal. It hasn’t changed.”

Ann Aguirre's books