Page 17 of Bucked By Love

“They took it.” Bonnie sniffs. “S-said I wasn’t worthy of the ring…”

Mary-Kate grabs Bonnie’s hand. She stares at the offending finger and her mouth twists into a hard frown. “Bonnie,” she snaps. “Enough of this.”

Mary-Kate moves in front of Bonnie. She kneels down and takes the other girl’s face in her hands. “Look at me,” she says. “Stop crying.”

Bonnie chokes, swallowing back a sob.

“Good. This is stupid. You’re being stupid. What’s more important—a dumb, disgusting boy you’re going to forget in two years, or the Belleflower Crown, that you’ve only worked your entire life for?”

Bonnie whimpers. “I love?—”

“If you say I love him, I’m going to slap you.” Mary-Kate puts both her hands up, palms facing the sky. “You have two choices. Belleflower Queen. Rafe. You can’t have both. So. Which is it?”

Bonnie is quiet for too long. Mary-Kate lifts one hand. “Belleflower Queen,” she says, articulating the word slowly, “A parade for you. Your face all over town. The honor of being in league with the most powerful women in the world. Or.” She lifts her other hand. “A smelly Sooter boy with no future, no money, and no drive.”

My heart slaps around in my chest, like a fish squeezed between two strong hands, trying to get free.

Bonnie shouldn’t have to make this choice. I know that. In a perfect world, she shouldn’t have to make this choice.

But I also know we don’t live in a perfect world, we live in Belleflower, and in Belleflower, there are rules.

You follow the rules or you face the consequences.

“Belleflower Queen,” Bonnie says. “I want to be a Belleflower Queen.”

Mary-Kate takes Bonnie’s face in her hands. She presses a kiss to the other woman’s forehead. “Right answer,” she says. “Now, let’s talk about getting your ring back.”

They sit side-by-side and begin drafting Bonnie’s breakup with Rafe. I stare at the river, the way the sunlight catches on the stones. I feel my heart thrum in my chest and imagine the cool river water streaming through my veins, turning my blood to ice.

13

CLAIRE

The next two weeks are all about Bonnie.

It’s a nonstop rollercoaster of tears and late night calls. Mary-Kate is the “doer” of the group, who coaxes Bonnie through the steps she has to take. Removing a Promise Ring is serious. She can’t just ask for it back. She has to write a letter to the Benefactors’ Society, which can be summarized by the following bullet points:

Confess your mistakes.

Explain what you’ve done to correct it.

Convince us you won’t shame us in the future.

She drafts it twenty times. We spend hours with Bonnie pacing back and forth in my living room, reciting her letter, and each time I hear it, a knot grows tighter in my stomach.

I twist my own Promise Ring over and over on my finger, gently reassuring myself that it’s still there.

She submits the letter and, after five breath-holding days, gets a response back.

She’s been reinstated. Her ring returned, shiny and new.

We celebrate at the Equestrian Club. No one actually says why we’re celebrating—mentioning getting back the ring would have to include why she lost the ring in the first place. So, instead, Bonnie’s parents get their own table and carefully watch us out of the corners of their eyes while us Promise Sisters, stuffed in ruffly, extravagant dresses, talk too loudly, laugh too loudly, and cheer with flutes of sparkling apple cider.

I smile. I clink glasses. I eat fluffy, crusty apple fritters until they clot in my throat.

But I can’t stop this sick, dark feeling that crawls inside of me and makes itself at home in my ribcage. An unwanted guest—like a fox hiding out in the henhouse.

These are my friends. This is a win. I should be happy.

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