Page 48 of Gilded Fake

When I got tired of my spiraling insecurities, I got up and took a shower, thinking about the upcoming tryst. My heart flipped every time I pictured closing the pool house door behind me, being alone in the dark with Colt again. A giddy little grin kept popping onto my face when I wasn’t paying attention, when I was running the razor up my shin or washing between my thighs so I smelled nice for him.

I hadn’t felt this way since… Rylan.

I swallowed the thought and shut off the water. Rylan was my first love, and he always would be. But we were kids. I couldn’t dwell on it forever. There was nothing wrong with having a little bit of fun. It was a rare commodity around here.

Even though I’d been with Royal plenty of times, and even the twins, being with Colt was different. First of all, it was my choice. I knew it was just hooking up, that it couldn’t be more. Royal was not my boyfriend and never had been, and he let the twins have their fun with me whenever they wanted, but he would murder Colt if he knew he’d touched me. Not to mention what he’d do to me.

Not that he hadn’t already done it.

Only a girl as fucked up as me could love someone after that. But sometime last year, on the days when we’d sit outside the Hockington and smoke a cigarette or a joint on my break, as we talked about parental pressure and our favorite beaches and where we’d go to college, I forgave him, though he never asked for it. He kept my secrets, so I told him about my father and about Rylan, and when I cried, he held space for me. Slowly, I began to see the boy under the football star, the bully god, the psychopath. I fell in love with that boy.

Despite what I felt, he never loved me, and eventually my feelings faded. Without love, it all felt hollow and empty, even when we were hooking up. I shared so much, but he never saw me. He never even tried. Now that I’d stopped trying, now that my heart was free, it had chosen the only boy whose love was more unattainable than Royal Dolce’s. The one boy I could never have.

But I could have him tonight.

I slid into bed and waited for Mom to do bed checks. I set my alarm in case I fell asleep, but there was no way I would. I was too excited, my heart beating so loudly in my chest I thought Mom would surely hear it, and maybe she’d demand to know what boy made it thunder like wildebeests in my chest, so she could make sure he didn’t break it. But she only kissed my forehead and told me to get some sleep so I didn’t have undereye circles in the morning.

I lay in bed another hour, then slipped out the window, scrambled down the tree outside my room, and raced across the lawn to the Montgomery pool house. I groped around under the fish for the key, but it was gone. My heart flipped as I checked the door.

Unlocked.

I stepped inside the shadowy room, my pulse racing. “Are you here?”

“I’m here,” Colt drawled in his refined, Southern accent. “Turn on the light.”

I glanced over my shoulder, but the Montgomery house was as dark as ours. Everyone was asleep but us. I felt around for the switch and hit the lights.

They came on, the ambient lighting falling over the bed where Colt lay, completely nude, leisurely stroking his cock. I gaped at him for a second, taking in all the ink on his tattooed body, his pierced tip, and the red petals scattered across the bed around him.

“Did you seriously put rose petals on the bed?” I asked, not sure what to even think of that. It was something Rylan might have done, but Colt was about as far from a sweet little emo boy as you could get.

He cracked a smile. “You said that’s what you wanted, Butterfly. I got us some champagne too. Now get over here and sit on my face until that delicious cunt drips down my chin.”

twelve

Rumor Has It… It seems the Queen won more than a crown on prom night! Her king finally got down on one knee and put a ring on it! If you want to see it in person, you know where to find her! She might even give the lucky few a peek at the diamond ??

Colt Darling

I’ve heard the term, “a monkey on your back,” but that must be a pretty lie concocted to try to get people sober. Because it’s not a monkey. It’s a fucking monster, a beast, a demon from hell. It snarls in my ears, threatens, cajoles, begs. It tears at the inside of my skin with claws, like I’ve swallowed it and now it’s caged in my body, raging to break free even if it kills me.

What’s the fucking difference?

It’s already ruined my life.

I watch Dixie parading around the café, giggling and flaunting her ring for the fifth day in a row, holding out her hand and basking in the admiration as girls crowd around to ooh and ahh over it. I fucking hate them. I hate her. I hate Gloria Fucking Walton, who told me to make a commitment that apparently I later made to Dixie when I was blacked out. I don’t fucking know. I don’t know how I went from basically telling Dixie we were over, to agreeing to go to prom, to somehow deciding I was sorry for all of it and, in my fucked up state, that I wanted to give up my life to make up for it.

She always says I’m sweet when I’m on the pills, but I didn’t know they made me into a goddamn saint.

But there’s the ring on her finger to prove it.

“Dude, you’re so fucked,” Duke crows, giggling with a giddiness that’s only surpassed by Dixie’s. “I knew she was the best you could do, but I didn’t know she had your balls on a chain around her neck. You actually love the bitch!”

DeShaun and Cotton snicker.

“You’d know exactly where my balls are, wouldn’t you?” I snarl at Duke. I haven’t swallowed a pill since prom, but instead of getting easier, it’s only gotten harder, and I’ve gotten meaner with each passing day.

“Whatever, man,” he says, grinning. “You’re going to be fucking that dog for the next forty years. I’m going to marry a Victoria’s Secret model and bring her over just to rub it in your face. Loser.”

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