Page 82 of Gilded Fake

She gives him her no-bullshit look. “Aren’t you?”

“He’s not,” I say, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. “He just needed to find the right fit. And you were right, Harper. He does have the big dick energy—for good reason.”

“Eww,” Magnolia squeals. “That’s my cousin. I’d rather believe the rumors that he doesn’t have a dick.”

“Fair enough,” he says to her. “I feel the same about you. As long as you make it to graduation with your chastity belt intact, I won’t have to lecture you.”

“Ugh, spare me,” she groans. “Preston does that enough.”

“Just looking out for the baby in the family.”

“Don’t worry, I see how everyone in this family fucks their whole lives for love,” she says with a shudder. “Not for me.”

“And that’s why there’s hope for you yet,” Colt says.

Magnolia sighs dramatically. “Long after y’all are gone, I’ll be here, sitting on the empty pavement and worshipping the Mockingjay graffiti left on the side of a building. All that’s left of an icon.”

“Or you could become an icon yourself,” I suggest.

“Don’t give her ideas,” Colt says. “Her plan sounds a lot safer.”

“You can be anything you want,” Harper assures Magnolia. “Rebel, queen, or anything in between. We’re all graduating. The school will be yours next year.”

Magnolia snorts. “Do I look like a queen to you?”

I exchange glances with Harper. “Uh, yes,” I say. “You’ve got everything it takes. The looks, the money, even the name. You’ll have all the status you want with a snap of your fingers.”

“And yet, I sat here even after our name was restored, while Colt sat at the table with the same royalty who tried to beat him to death.”

Before anyone can argue, a hush falls over the café. I turn, dread falling into my stomach like a stone.

Dixie is marching toward us.

I tense, filled with the urge to jump off Colt’s lap. Even though he told me he broke up with her, guilt still knots inside me, like she caught us doing something wrong.

“Shit,” Colt mutters. “I figured she went home already.”

Lunch is halfway over, and at least half the seniors leave instead of sticking around to eat at school. But the rest of the grades are still filling the café, and as Dixie approaches, everyone who wasn’t already staring turns to do it now. This is the confrontation they’ve been waiting for.

“Put me down,” I mutter under my breath. “You’re going to get me killed.”

“I won’t let her hurt you,” Colt says. “I promise.”

It’s too late anyway. Dixie arrives at our table in her usual goth get-up, looking flustered and out of breath. I know she’s going to go for me, not Colt, and that will be the end of curious glances in our direction and the beginning of another wave of relentless bullying. There’s only two more weeks of school, and I know I’ll survive it, but I don’t want to. I’m tired of barely surviving, holding on and praying for it to be over. I’ve been doing that for three fucking years.

I also know what it takes to stay on the throne. She has a long way to fall. I’m already in the dirt. But I have experience with her kind. I dealt with them for three years too. I know how to fight like a queen. I glance around, making sure I have every eye in the café before I take the first shot, my voice ringing through the silence in the lunchroom.

“Did someone order a queen off Wish?”

A few people stifle snickers around the room, but most wait in silence for the verdict.

“Nah,” Colt says, lounging back in his chair. “She comes too fast. She must be from Temu.”

The laughter grows into a quiet chorus rippling over the students. This time, they’re not laughing at me. They’re not laughing out of obligation to me, either. I’m no longer their queen.

She is.

I steel my spine, ready for the blow. She’s as ruthless as I ever was. She won’t hesitate to kick me when I’m down.

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