Elite (Empire High, #2)(78)

He didn’t have to worry about being jealous. I’d probably only dance with one boy tonight. Matt had one dance to tell me his side of the story. That was it. Everyone else would just treat me like the social pariah I was. It would be Kennedy by my side, no one else. I’d gotten a small taste of what it felt like to fit in. But it would only ever be a taste. I was back to being invisible. Which was actually fortunate because I was an awful dancer.

“Trust me,” I said. “You have nothing to worry about. Kennedy is my dance partner tonight.” I climbed out of the car to join her.

She grabbed my arm before I had a chance to wave goodbye to Miller. “It’s freaking freezing!” She pulled me toward the entrance. “What were you guys talking about?”

“I’m sorry. My head and my heart are really confused and I just needed to talk to him.”

“Because of Matt or Mr. Pruitt?”

“What?”

“Your dad isn’t exactly the evil monster you described. He’s kind of sweet. Or are you talking about the fact that you still have feelings for Matt?”

God. “All of it.”

“You know what you need?” She looked so excited and for some reason it made me wary.

“No…what?”

“Your favorite.” Her voice was weirdly high-pitched.

I just stared at her confused.

“Punch!”

I groaned. “I will never ever drink punch again in my life.” Numbing the pain wasn’t worth it. It was one of the few lessons I’d learned with my uncle by my side. I’d made a promise to him that I wouldn’t get drunk again. My promise was one of the only things I had left of him. “Never,” I added when she was still smiling. “I mean it, Kennedy. Being hungover was not something I ever want to experience again. Punch is the freaking worst.”

“I’m pretty sure you said the exact opposite the last time you had it. If I recall correctly you said you loved it. Like really loudly. You screamed it at the top of your lungs.”

“Yeah…because I was drunk.”

“Well, we’re at a school dance this time. I’m sure this punch isn’t even spiked.” She winked at me and I didn’t believe her at all.





Chapter 30


Saturday

“Wow,” I said when we entered the ballroom. It looked completely different than the last time I’d served here. There weren’t any tables, just a huge dance floor. There weren’t even any adults in sight. Well, maybe a few. I spotted Mr. Hill yelling at some kids about dancing too close, but I quickly looked away. The last thing I needed was for him to yell at me instead.

I looked around the ballroom. There were gold balloons everywhere. I wouldn’t have even been surprised if they were somehow made from actual gold. “Do you think we could pop one?” I asked.

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.”