Page 43 of Gilded Fake

He looks at me a long moment, swaying on his feet. Then he tips his chin at me, his lids lowering halfway. “You wanna get out of here?”

“I’m done owing you favors.”

“What if you did me one anyway?” he asks. “Then I’d owe you.”

“I’m not interested in anything you can do for me,” I say, leveling him with a look.

“Bullshit,” he says. “You were into it too.”

“The difference is that I’m not ashamed of who I am or what I like,” I say. “I can get my fix anywhere. I’m not interested in being anyone’s fetish. So go fuck yourself, Duke Dolce.”

I shove the empty bottle back into his hand, push off the railing, and stalk back inside. Gloria’s long gone, but Dixie scurries over and hands me the drink she promised. “Let’s go up to the roof,” she says. “I heard you can see almost the entire town from there. I’ve never been up there. Have you?”

“Couple times,” I say, tipping the drink back and swallowing the entire contents in a few swallows. I don’t want to think about the last time I was up there, four years ago, on a prom night when all I could think about was Destiny. I don’t want to think about her, or that night, because it makes me realize how far away she is, how she’s fading, how I don’t even miss her lately. I loved her, but it was a stupid, innocent love, one that was both pure and shallow. There was no complexity to the way I felt, no depth, no reality. She was my fantasy come true, and now that’s all she’ll ever be—a fantasy.

I can’t touch her, can’t hold her, can’t bring her back. I can only hold onto her memory, tell myself lies about how I would have loved her forever and it would have been enough. I’d never have put a collar on her or ordered her to kneel and worship me. I could never have told her to crawl for me. I would have hidden what I needed like Duke does, but I’d still need my fix as much as he does. I make it out to be some great love story, but in reality, I’d probably have ended up doing to her what I’m doing to Dixie.

I hand the glass back to my girlfriend, empty of everything but ice, my mouth both sweet and as bitter as my pills.

Dixie’s eyes widen. “Was that a good idea?”

“No,” I say. “Want to make me another one?”

She giggles and hurries back around the bar to refill the glass. Then we head up to the roof to dance, and the rest of the night is as blank as my memory when I woke up in the hospital.

ten

Rumor Has It… After Prom, WHPA’s official king and queen danced late into the night, under the stars, as befitting this year’s theme. Did they continue the night in private with an even bigger surprise than the upset of the hierarchy to crown the new, unlikely, people’s queen? Check back for the jaw-dropping answer in Monday’s Tea Drop!

Gloria Walton

“Oh my god, let me see!”

The pitch and volume of my sisters’ voices screaming out in unison probably gives the entire classroom permanent hearing loss, but they’re oblivious as they trip over each other to get to the front of the room first. Dixie just walked in, looking triumphant and self-satisfied. She holds out her hand like a magnanimous queen. I halfway expect my sisters to kiss it, but instead they seize it, dragging it closer to inspect… A ring.

My heart stops, and I barely hear their cries of jealousy and awe. They throw their arms around Dixie, and all three of them jump up and down, shrieking and giggling.

“Wasn’t expecting that,” Harper says, as the girls break apart and Dixie floats back to her seat, shooting me a nasty, superior smile on her way.

“Why?” Josie asks. “She never shuts up about how long they’ve been together.”

Surprisingly, Josie is one of the only people willing to sit with me, though I know she’s really here for Harper. But apparently she didn’t hate me as much as she hated the position of queen, which means she’s now sitting with me while Dixie sits with my old friends.

I try not to let it bother me that Dixie now parades around with the same girls who used to have sleepovers with me, share their secret crushes and skin care routines. Now they look at me like something they’d rather not step in—if they acknowledge me at all. They’re Dixie’s ladies in waiting. My sisters will probably be maids of honor at her fucking wedding, which is apparently coming up any day now.

“I just got the feeling they weren’t doing so well lately,” Harper says, glancing at me. “But I guess if they’re happy, it’s none of our business.”

“How’d it happen?” Eleanor squeals at the back table, where Dixie sits with her, Everleigh, DeShaun, Duke, and Colt’s empty chair. “Tell us every detail. Did he get down on one knee? Have you set a date?”

“Oh my god, it was so romantic,” Dixie gushes. “So, we kinda got in a little squabble at prom, but afterwards he apologized for being so inconsiderate, and we danced on the roof all night. It was magical. Then when we left, he said he was sorry he’d been so non-committal, and that I was all he needed and all he ever wanted, and he got down on one knee and pulled out the ring. He said he bought it a year ago because he knew then that I was the only girl he’d ever love. It was literally a fairytale come true.”

“Gag me,” Josie mutters.

The bell chimes, and a minute later, Colt stumbles in looking hollow-eyed and shell-shocked, like a guy who’s been through a long, harrowing battle before finally admitting defeat. My heart breaks for him in that moment. I have to get out my laptop and open it with stiff, numb hands just to keep myself busy, to resist the urge to reach out and stop him as he passes my desk, to ask if he’s okay. Because he really, really doesn’t look okay.

But like Harper said, it’s none of my business.

Still, for a second, all I want to do is take him away, to get in my car with him and drive, to ask a final time if he’s sure. If he’s going to be happy with her.

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