The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things(45)

In a small town like this one, Tamara Smith, the hot school secretary, draws censure for how she dresses, the amount of makeup she wears, and for the way she’d allegedly cheated on her husband—and that’s why he left. Whatever the truth, she’s definitely doing Principal Warick. I’ve seen them kissing, but I never would’ve brought it up if Dylan didn’t made a career of screwing with two people I care about: Lila and Shane.

He applies more pressure, almost enough to bruise my jaw. So I bite him.

Dylan lets go, hate warring with unease in his eyes. He stumbles back a few steps, then he yells to his friends, “These bitches aren’t worth it.”

I take one breath, another, watching him walk away. Time to put the scary back in the box. The athletic crew disappears around the side of the barn, then Lila heads over, looking astonished. “What the hell did you say to him?”

By the time, I turn to face her, I’ve got my mask back in place.

I shrug. “I just made it clear he can’t mess with you anymore.”

“I hope you don’t regret this. Dylan isn’t known for letting shit go.”

“Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf.”

Lila still seems doubtful but I don’t reveal anything. If I tell her, she might repeat it, and then I’ll lose my leverage. My anger at Dylan writhes like a snake twining and tightening around my intestines, but this is where I stop. It takes all my willpower to smile and eat my marshmallow, which has cooled off nicely. The rest of the party is quiet compared to the beginning. I play a game of beer pong, set up on two sawhorses and a plywood board; my team loses, mostly because I suck. After that, Lila and I dance by the bonfire while various guys try to hit on us. That’s … different.

Eventually, I get bored and by that point, Lila’s ready to head out, too. The golf cart is easy to maneuver around the cars, so we set out for my place.

“Is it okay if I stay over?” she asks as we pull up outside my house. The lights are still on in the living room, which means my aunt is probably dozing on the sofa.

“If it’s cool with your mom, I’m sure my aunt won’t mind.”

“I already asked her.” She’s been weird and quiet on the drive home. Now she sounds subdued, like she’s thinking about something else.

I grin. “Glad I could conform to plans you already made.”

As she hops down from the golf cart, she says, “Seriously, Sage, I hope this doesn’t blow back on you. While I appreciate the way you stood up to Dylan for me, I have a bad feeling.”

“Don’t worry about it. Whatever Dylan thinks he can do, I guarantee I’ve been through worse.” I don’t mean to tell her so much, but Lila’s gaze sharpens.

“You never talk about what it was like before you moved here.”

Instead of answering, I dig into my bag for my key, then step inside. Sure enough, my aunt is crashed out on the couch, her head back, while the TV is stalled on the DVD menu. I turn everything off quietly and then kiss my aunt on the head.

“I’m home. Lila’s with me. You can go to bed now.”

Aunt Gabby’s bleary gaze finds the wall clock. “Thanks for getting in before midnight.”

“No problem. The party was kind of boring anyway. I don’t know if I’ll go to another.”

“Not your thing, huh? Well, at least you tried something new.” My aunt flashes a sleepy smile in Lila’s direction, then pads toward her bedroom.

“She’s so cool.”

“Agreed,” I say.

I unroll an old sleeping bag and set up on the floor. The rug on the wood floor is fluffy enough that it should serve as another layer of padding. While I’m doing that, Lila heads for the bathroom, and when she comes back, she looks much younger without makeup. The red hair seems extra bright against her pale, clear skin.

I point at the bed. “You sleep there. My aunt will kill me if I put a guest on the floor.”

“I guess since you’re my bodyguard, I have to listen to you.”

“At some point, I’ll remind you that you said that.”

She smirks.

Laughing, I go brush my teeth. By the time I get back, she’s settled in my daybed, and I wonder if the sheets smell like Shane. This is the most traffic my room has ever seen. I’m unsure what the deal is, if we’re supposed to whisper until we fall asleep or if the night’s basically over. I make a show of snuggling down into the sleeping bag, letting her decide.

“You don’t have a TV in your room,” Lila says softly.

“No, we just have the one. My aunt got it so we can watch movies. No cable. It’s supposed to motivate me to read more.” Though I don’t say so, I need little encouragement to stick my nose in a book. I’ve loved fiction since I was a kid in need of rescuing.

“I hope she doesn’t talk to my mom.”

“She’s not like that. She doesn’t proselytize.”

“Somebody’s dropping her SAT vocab words.”

“Bet you don’t get that from the burner crowd.”

Lila laughs. “That’s why I’m here on Saturday night, not watching them smoke.”

Her mention of the lack of a television clues me in; she isn’t used to falling asleep when it’s quiet. “I can turn on some music. I have an iPod.”