You Should See Me in a Crown(59)



It’s not like it was before the concert that led to the kisses that led to the lies that led to the fallout. It’s like we’ve gone back to square one: friendship.

I’m locking my bike to the rack, bobbing my head along to this great Margot & the Nuclear So and So’s song that Amanda sent me last night, when Britt and Robbie rush outside. Ro leaves before me most days to meet up with his friends, so I’m not surprised to see him. But I am surprised to see their expressions.

“You two look like someone peed in your Cheerios this morning.” I smile and pull my headphones out of my ears. They’re on both sides of me as I make my way up the stairs into school. “Whatever it is has got to wait though, okay? Because I have a quiz in—”

“Lizzo, you probably want to stop for a second before—”

But I don’t stop. I don’t stop because I’m lovestruck and feeling invincible. But that feeling doesn’t last long.

Robbie grabs my arm, but it’s already too late.

“Oh my God.”

Everyone has stopped to gawk at the new display in the Commons. The bodies around me seem to halt on command, everyone going stock still as they see the massive rainbow flag hanging from the glass. In the center of it is a sloppily painted crown that looks dangerously similar to the ones on my posters and buttons. And written on top of it and beneath it in bold block letters the color of blood:



The Commons, where last week I’d launched a new type of campaign, one that tried to reclaim all the things this school has tried to take from me, is the site of all my worst nightmares coming true. My throat feels tight, and I’m seeing spots. I can’t believe this. It can’t possibly be happening.

Suddenly, all the phones in the room ping with a notification at the same time. The people who didn’t already have their phones out to take pictures of the flag are unlocking them, and next to me Robbie curses.

“Dammit.” He grabs my hand to pull me in the direction of the parking lot before anyone realizes I’m there, but I’m clumsy. My feet are too heavy for my body as I stumble after him, and everyone is turning to look at me. I can hear it before I can see it, different pieces of the same awful conversation broken up and distributed for all my classmates to watch and watch again.

“So Kam from Park Meade, huh? She seems nice. Is she your type?”

“This isn’t a fight. We’re not fighting.”

“You like girls, so do I.”

“I understand that you are not who I thought you were.”

It’s like the world’s worst reality show, and I’m the sloppy cast member who goes viral every week with a new set of catchphrases immortalized in GIFs.

It’s the furthest thing from a fairy tale I could have asked for.



Being back in Principal Wilson’s office somehow feels even worse now than it did the first time. It’s clear from the way he’s looking between me and Amanda that we’re not here because he wants to help us. We’re here because he wants to punish us.

“Well, Miss Lighty, I did tell you to watch your step, did I not?” He leans back in his chair, lips pressed into a thin line. I’ve never hated a person more than I do in this moment.

Amanda grips the arms of her seat so tight her knuckles go white. I’ve never seen her look like this before, so angry, so on edge. I feel her energy radiating across the space, and I want to grab her hand. To tell her that this is horrible, of course, but it’s also not that surprising. That I’ve spent every day of the past four years fearing for this moment, and yet even that fear couldn’t prepare me for this.

“C’est terrible. C’est terrible!” Madame Simoné paces near the door. She stops briefly to look between me and Amanda. “Something must be done.”

“Is no one going to ask how Liz is doing? Your student was just the victim of a hate crime, for goodness’ sake.” Amanda shakes her head and bounces her leg.

“We don’t know that,” he responds quickly. “We shouldn’t use those words until we know all the facts.”

The facts. He’s got to be kidding me.

“The fact is that Rachel Collins is behind this!” Amanda says, her face completely red with exhaustion and anger.

“You better quit pointing fingers until you have some evidence to back that up, young lady.”

“So what’s the point of this meeting?” I ask quickly, impatient. If we’re going to do this, I’d rather we just get it over with. After everything we went through to get here, if I’m going to get kicked out of the race, I’d prefer to do it with my chin up. “Because I have a quiz in stats today that I really can’t miss.”

“Well, yes,” he starts. “I imagine you do have some other things you two would like to get to.”

I don’t like his tone, or the way he narrows his eyes slightly, looking between Amanda and me. But I settle into my seat and place both my hands firmly on the armrests.

I try to channel the confidence of a mediocre white man in a boardroom: untouchable.

“We’ve already been contacted by the president of the PTA. They want you removed from the race immediately,” Principal Wilson sighs. “They haven’t been too pleased with your little stunts at any point, but they think it’s better we cut our losses now than continue with this charade until prom.”

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