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Blinded: A High School Bully Romance (Del Sol High Book 1) Page 12


  The crowd responds with cheers.

  “I know you're all ready to hear the result of Homecoming voting, but first we need to thank everyone who is helping to make this week work,” she says.

  The crowd grumbles, but indulges her with polite applause as she reads off a list of names.

  “Okay, now let's get to it,” Rebecca says.

  The crowd cheers again and she reads off all of the nominees for the freshman, sophomore, and junior classes. There are lots of screams and cheers, and I see some girls hugging and boys high-fiving in the crowd.

  “And, now, let's get to the group that really matters,” Rebecca says. “Our senior homecoming court!”

  The cheers go up again and she picks up two envelopes from a stool behind her. “First, I'll read you our nominees for homecoming king.” She tears open one of the envelopes and pulls out a sheet of paper. She studies it for a moment, nods, then smiles. “Okay. Here we go. Our first nominee is...Nick Babcock!”

  The crowd cheers.

  “A lock,” Mercy says into my ear.

  “Is that Archer's friend?” I ask.

  She nods.

  “And our second nominee is...Archer Hays!” Rebecca says into the mic.

  The crowd goes nuts again.

  “Of course,” Mercy says. “Always.”

  I look around, but I still don't see him.

  “And our final nominee is...Heath Rogers!” Rebecca announces.

  The crowd cheers again.

  “Nice face, asshole!” Dylan yells into the crowd.

  We laugh, but I don't see him, either.

  Which I'm grateful for.

  “So there you have it,” Rebecca says. “Those are your homecoming king nominees. And now. Are you ready for our homecoming queen nominees?”

  The crowd erupts again. She really knows how to work the crowd. She picks up the remaining envelope, opens it, removes the paper, studies it, then nods with a big smile. “Okay. Okay.” She looks at the crowd again. “Are you ready, Vikings? Let me hear it!”

  The crowd obliges her with another loud cheer.

  “Your first nominee for homecoming queen is...Brooke Dwyer!”

  The crowd erupts and Dylan gives Brooke a giant hug, jumping up and down and generally trying to embarrass Brooke. Brooke tries to hold steady, but she finally ends up laughing at Dylan's antics.

  Dylan curtsies in front of her. “Your Highness. It is an honor to eat lunch with you every day.”

  “Oh, fuck you,” Brooke mutters, shaking her head.

  “Okay, guys, here we go,” Rebecca says, letting the din die down. “Your second nominee is...Reese McClure.”

  The crowd cheers and I see her near the front of the stage, enveloped by her fellow cheerleaders.

  “Vomit,” Mercy yells in my ear.

  Dylan holds her middle finger high up in the air.

  Brooke shakes her head.

  Dylan turns to Brooke. “At least you'll have the opportunity to push her off of a stage. If you don't do it, you'll be dead to me.”

  The four of us laugh again.

  “And, finally,” Rebecca announces. “Our final nominee for this year's homecoming queen is...Nola Murphy!”

  Mercy's eyes go wide as she looks at me and the crowd erupts.

  I can't have heard that right.

  “What did she say?” I ask over the noise of the crowd.

  Dylan crashes into me with a massive hug. “Look at you!”

  Mercy joins her in hugging me.

  “Wait,” I say, still not sure what's happening. “Did she say my name? How?”

  “Fuck yes she did!” Dylan yells in my ear.

  People are yelling congratulations at me as they leave the courtyard. I'm numb, still being hugged by Dylan and Mercy.

  “Me and you, chica,” Brooke says, holding her hand up and grinning. “Me and you.”

  I slap her hand, still feeling like I don't know what's happening.

  Dylan and Mercy finally release me, but Dylan grips my arm. “And do you know what this means?”

  I genuinely don't.

  She looks at Brooke first, then back to me. “It means you both get to knock that bitch off the stage!”

  The three of them dissolve into laughter.

  But I'm still looking around, wondering what's just happened.

  Me?

  Chapter 32

  My afternoon classes are a blur as people I've never seen before come up to congratulate me. I try to thank them and smile, but I'm still in shock. It's all just surreal and I don't know how to react. I feel awkward and unprepared.

  After the final bell, I head to the parking lot to meet Mercy. I just want to go home and clear my head with some peace and quiet. I just need to get away from everyone to process it all.

  “Well, well, well,” I hear a voice behind me say as I stand there waiting. “Look who we have here.”

  I sigh because the one thing I don't need at the moment is Reese McClure.

  I don't turn around and I don't say anything, hoping she'll disappear.

  Yeah, right.

  “It appears the math department is failing here,” she says, coming around to face to me. She's flanked by Fallon and Bree because of course she is. “Because there's no fucking way you could've gotten enough votes to make homecoming court.”

  “Totally,” Fallon mutters, looking me up and down.

  “I think people felt sorry for her,” Bree says, sneering at me. “I mean, I almost feel sorry for her. With that face.”

  The three of them cackle.

  I don't say anything.

  “Did you pay Rebecca?” Reese asks. “Is that what happened? Did you pay her to read your name?”

  “So pathetic,” Fallon says.

  “I wonder how much she had to pay,” Bree asks.

  “I didn't have to pay her anything,” I say. “I think people just saw you two were the alternatives and it was an easy choice.”

  Bree's face goes tomato red and Fallon looks like she wants to fight.

  If she does, I'm ready.

  Because I'm done taking their shit.

  I look at Reese. “You're afraid.” I laugh. “You're totally afraid.”

  “Of you?” she says. “Hardly.”

  “You're afraid,” I say again. “You're totally threatened. Your little fake kingdom is totally threatened.” I laugh because it really is funny. “And you think I'm the one who's pathetic.”

  “Fuck off,” she snaps. “I don't know what you think you're pulling, but you won't get away with it.”

  I laugh harder. “You literally think I care so much about this thing that I'm trying to engineer my way into it? Really?” I laugh even harder. “You care about it that much so everyone else must, too? Is that it?” I look at each of them. “I guess that makes sense when this will clearly be the peak for all three of your lives.”

  “You are such a bitch,” Fallon says.

  “Sure,” I say. “Whatever.”

  I look at Reese. “You know, after they announced it, I seriously didn't give a shit about it. I thought it was all kind of dumb and I was actually hoping they did count wrong.” I smile at her. “But now that I know you're scared, I'm rethinking everything.”

  “I am not scared,” she says. “Especially not of you.”

  I laugh. “So to be clear. You aren't afraid and you don't care about me...but here you are, threatening me, telling me you're going to figure out how to get me off of the court.” I wrinkle my nose at her. “Feels like fear, Reese. I think you're having a full on freak-out thinking about me wearing that crown instead of you.” I make a scared face. “Eek.”

  Her face goes redder than Bree's did. “Fuck you.”

  Mercy walks out of the school and hesitates when she sees us, then heads in our direction.

  “Everything cool?” she asks.

  “Oh, yeah,” I tell her. “Everything is super cool. Reese and the Wonder Bitch Twins here were just expressing their...congratulations on my
nomination.”

  Mercy bursts out laughing. “Is that right?”

  All three of them look like they could chew nails.

  But I don't care. I really am done with them. They want to fight?

  I'll fight.

  I've fought worse.

  “And, hey, Reese,” I say.

  She glares at me.

  “I really didn't give a shit,” I tell her. “But now? I'm reconsidering.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” she snaps.

  “I don't know,” I tell her. I look at Mercy. “Can I, like, campaign for this thing?”

  Mercy laughs again. “I'll be your campaign manager.”

  I look at Reese. “Because now I only care about one thing.”

  I step closer to her, so that our noses are almost touching. She takes a step backward.

  I smile. “Making sure I beat you.”

  Chapter 33

  “You fucking said that?” Dylan asks, twisting around in her seat. “Oh god. I think I might love you.”

  It's later that night. Mercy takes me home after school and informs me that there's always a party the night nominations are announced and that I have to go. I'm in luck because my grandmother has left me a note, informing me that she and my grandfather have dinner plans and won't be home until late, so I don't have to negotiate going out on a school night. I do the little bit of schoolwork I have, shower, make myself dinner, then meet the girls outside when Brooke pulls up. Now, we're on our way to the party and Mercy has given them a play by play on my exchange with Reese after school.

  “I said it,” I tell her. “But I probably shouldn't have. I don't really want to fight.”

  “Oh, yes, you totally should have,” Dylan says. “Fuck that bitch and her little minions. And she is scared.”

  I shrug. I've been second-guessing myself all afternoon, thinking I should've just kept my mouth shut. I'm not afraid of her, but I also don't want the drama. I keep saying I don't want any attention, but it keeps finding me, and I'm not doing myself any favors.

  “One of you two needs to win,” Mercy says. “Just so she doesn't.”

  “We'll probably split the vote,” Brooke says over her shoulder. “It'll end up helping her.”

  “Gross,” Mercy says, frowning.

  “It's a fake crown,” Brooke says. “She can have it.”

  “But we don't want her to have it,” Dylan says. “Fake or not. I don't want her to ever be happy. Ugh.”

  “Will your parents come out?” Mercy asks.

  It takes me a second to realize she's talking to me. “What?”

  “Your mom and dad,” she says. “Will they come out? Parents usually escort the girls out during the ceremony at the game.”

  Panic spikes in my stomach. “Oh...I...I didn't know that.”

  “It's a whole ceremony thing,” Dylan says. “You have to get dressed up. Your parents escort you out to the stage. They make it all dramatic and shit. Like Miss America or something.”

  My heart starts racing.

  “I just wondered if your parents would come,” Mercy asks. “But I know it's short notice.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I don't know. I doubt it because, yeah…I don't think they could come out so fast.”

  For a number of reasons.

  Mercy pats my thigh. “I'm sure your grandparents will be thrilled to escort you.”

  “Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile. “Probably so.”

  “I wish my parents wouldn't show up,” Brooke says. “They nearly peed their pants last night. They knew before I even got home.”

  Dylan and Mercy laugh and I manage to fake it. But now I'm preoccupied with the idea that my parents are supposed to be there. And I know that's only going to bring more questions my way about them.

  “I know my dad won't be able to come,” I blurt out.

  Mercy looks at me. “Oh yeah? Why not?”

  “Yeah,” I say, my fingers gripping the seat next to my leg. “He'll be too busy. With work. He can never do stuff like that.”

  She nods. “I hear you. My dad is like that, too.”

  “Mine, too,” Dylan says.

  “Not mine,” Brooke says. “He's like already semi-retired and just always lurking around the house.”

  “Yeah, but he's kinda hot,” Dylan says. “I don't mind.”

  Mercy laughs and I smile.

  I have no idea why I just blurted that out about my father. I have no idea if it's true or not. How would I know that?

  But I don't want questions.

  From anyone.

  I just want to forget about everything in Florida.

  But I know I can't.

  And I know that the questions are coming.

  And I'm pretty sure I just made it worse by lying to the three people I can actually call my friends.

  Brooke pulls us into the lot at the beach and it's already crowded. I'm wishing that I'd just stayed home because now I feel sick to my stomach. I don't know why I can't just be honest about both of my parents.

  That's not true.

  I know exactly why.

  Because I'm afraid of how people will react.

  As Brooke slides her car into a parking stall, I try to force myself to relax. I'm here now. I can't change that. Forget the parent stuff and just have a good time.

  If only it was that easy.

  Chapter 34

  We're at the beach down below the main part of downtown Del Sol, if there is such a thing as downtown Del Sol. Up above us, expensive shops and restaurants line the streets. In the summer, they were filled with tourists, but now they are a little quieter. I've walked the downtown area several times with my grandparents, but I've never been to this area of beach.

  The sand is crowded and music is playing from speakers in the back of a giant white truck. There are a couple of bonfires on the beach and wooden pallets are stacked high next to the concrete fire rings. People are milling around with red cups and water bottles of all sizes in their hands.

  People are congratulating me as they pass and they seem to mean it. It's strange feeling like everyone now knows who I am when I only know the names of about ten people.

  Dylan emerges from the crowd with four red cups, two in each hand. “Ladies. I think we need to toast.” She hands one to each of us. “To our queens. May they crush Reese McClure into dust.”

  We touch cups and I put the cup to my lips and tilt my head back slightly, but don't let the vodka touch my lips. The smell in the cup makes my stomach lurch.

  “Ladies,” Aidan says, putting an arm around Brooke and Dylan. “Congratulations are in order.”

  Dylan pushes his arm off of her. “No touching, douchebag.”

  “You're no fun,” he says, grinning. He looks at Brooke. “Fortunately, you don't seem to mind, do—”

  Brooke slips out from under his arm.

  He makes a face, then takes a long drink from the bottle of beer in his hand. “You guys are so mean to me. I just came to say congratulations to you, Brookie.” He looks at me. “And to you, Nola.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “See?” he says, looking at the other three. “Is it that hard to be polite? Nola appreciates my well wishes.”

  “Nola doesn't know any better,” Mercy says. “And she's nice to everyone.”

  “Not what I heard,” Nick says, coming up next to Aidan.

  “Oh, yeah?” Dylan asks. “What did you hear?”

  Nick looks into his red cup, then at me. “Just sayin' I heard different.”

  I have no idea if he means Archer or Reese or someone else. But the way he just says it matter-of-factly kind of freaks me out.

  “From who?” Brooke asks.

  He takes a long sip from his cup, then smiles at me. “Heath.”

  The other girls laugh, but I look down at the sand. I shuffle my feet and think maybe the vodka won't taste so bad.

  “He was bitching about it after school,” Nick says. “At football practice. Said you were a tease
.”

  “Fuck him,” I say.

  Nick laughs. “Well, apparently you made it clear you would not do that.”

  Aidan laughs.

  “It wasn't like that,” I say, angry. “Not even close.”

  “I didn't say it was,” Nick says. “Relax. Heath is an asshole. I know he's full of shit.” He pauses. “And so does Archer.”

  I look at him. “What does that mean?”

  Nick takes another drink from his cup. “I told Archer what Heath was saying. He was...not happy.”

  “That why he took off?” Aidan asked.

  Nick nods. “Believe so.” He smiles. “Should be a fun night.”

  “Took off where?” Dylan asks.

  “To find him,” Nick says. “Find Heath and most likely kick the shit out of him.”

  “Why?” I ask. “Why would he do that?”

  “Why do you think?” Nick asks, more amused than looking for an answer. “Because he messed with you.”

  “That mean we get to fight tonight?” Aidan asks. He grins. “Man, I'm so excited now.”

  “Wait,” I ask. “He's looking for him now?”

  “Yep,” Nick says. “Which means we should probably go find him and make sure he doesn't kill him.”

  “Or help him,” Aidan says, tossing his empty bottle into the bonfire. “I'm going.”

  Nick looks at Brooke. “Drive me home if I can't walk?”

  “Always,” she says. “That's how I like you best. Incapacitated.”

  He chuckles and tosses his cup into the fire, then follows Aidan into the crowd.

  “Are they seriously gonna fight?” I ask, looking at Mercy.

  “Oh, most likely,” she says. “It's like their favorite thing besides surfing.”

  “Nick really likes football, too,” Brooke says. “It's probably tied with fighting.”

  “I'll never understand you two,” Dylan says, narrowing her eyes. “I still think you two are doing it without telling us.”

  Brooke rolls her eyes. “Stop. That's old news.”

  “Is it?” Dylan asks. “Show me your phone and let me look at your texts.”

  “Fuck off,” Brooke says.

  “Guilty!” Dylan yells. “You guys are totally doing it again!”