Page 91 of Good Losers (Lochkelvin Academy)

Rory raises an eyebrow. “You think the government has big money?”

“I think Oscar Munro does.”

You could cut the tension with a knife. It’s a wholly tangible thing, thickening with every second, with every whip-quick assertion. I meet Danny’s gaze, nervous that a fight’s going to break out.

But if inside is where the fighting is, it’s nothing compared to the noise outside. Outside, there’s a burst of glass and the sound of cheering. Someone bangs a drum, a steady beat that continues as a crowd passes beneath our window. There are whoops, tinny replays of Benji’s speech from a phone, and further chants of “Dethrone the Royals!”

Rory crosses to the window, examining the crowd from behind the thick cream curtain. “You need to be kept indoors,” he says sharply.

Luke scowls at him. “I am not a housecat!”

“You may as well be for the time we’re here.”

Luke scrubs his face with his hands, his fingers digging into his black hair. “I cannot believe this is my life,” he mutters, palms covering his eye sockets. “I cannot believe this is happening to my family.”

“Becca will be fine, right?” I ask Luke.

He softens at my question, his shoulders sagging, but eventually he nods. “We have myriad secret bunkers. We may not have our entire security team at our disposal, but safe spaces were carved out for us long ago.” A wry twist turns the corner of his lips up. “It occurs to me that my mother likely expected this eventuality, to curate so many hiding spots.”

“I wouldn’t trust your family’s security team with this happening. It only takes one of them to turn,” Rory points out.

With a glare, Luke says, “I do not need that thought in my head right now, thank you. My personal security detail has already been stripped to nothing, but at least Mother and Becca are covered.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Finlay breathes, still staring at his phone. “They have an entire page devoted tae Jamie Crieff,leader o’ the people’s revolution.”

“You can make so many nicknames out of Benjamin,” Rory muses, “if that’s even his real name. How many identities does this one guy have?”

It makes me wonder what his older brother thinks of him right now. Is Dr. Moncrieff happy, proud, worried? By all accounts, Benji’s face is blowing up on people’s screens. He’s the man of the moment, the rallier of troops.

With a frown, I say, “I don’t understand how he’s become so popular so quickly.”

Rory releases a scoffing laugh. “You honestly think any of this is organic?” he asks, apparently siding with Luke’s speculations. “Antiro disbanded last year, and now they’ve reformed withJamie Crieffat its helm. You think Benjamin Moncrieff isn’t a government asset? That he wasn’t chosen, wasn’t selected after hours of meetings between think tanks and intelligence organizations?” The more Rory talks, the more nauseous I become, that the world is so much bigger in scope, slippier than I think I can grasp. “You think there isn’t money driving him, driving the things he’s saying? Wake up, little saint. The people at the top are propelled there for a reason: money and power. And right now, Benji’s providing a good return.”

I stare at him, floundering with this new knowledge. “Does he know this?”

Rory shrugs. “Does he know he’s become a convenient person to advance someone else’s agenda? Unlikely. People like him are only told what they want to hear. And it’s quite easy to guess what a hell-raising narcissist like Benji would be sweetened with.” He puts on a bland voice and answers, “Yes, Benji, youcanhead our totally organic political movement. Yes, Benji, wewillturn you into a demagogue. Yes, Benji, you want money? We’ll funnel some dark money to Antiro so you can take a nice fat tax-exempt cut.”

“Is this what cancellation feels like?” Luke murmurs, sounding lost and unmoored. “I’ve been no-platformed. I’m state enemy number one.”

Finlay rolls his eyes. “Och, please. Quit being so dramatic. This is entirely yer own fault for rollin’ wi’ such a lie in the first place. None o’ this would have happened if ye’d telt the truth and if ye werenae so problematic in the first place.”

“Problematic,” Luke repeats in a low voice, his eyes boring into Finlay. I’ve never seen Luke with anything other than an innate sense of superiority, and the placidness that underlies such a belief. But right now, Luke’s expression is more than a tad murderous. “I am under house arrest for something thatis not my fault. I do not deserve any of this! I know the job role better than anyone else on this planet. I have been trained my wholelifeto be king.”

“That doesnae make ye royal,” Finlay mutters.

“And what ofyou? So determined to play the ardent revolutionary,” Luke spits, his voice so full of loathing that I physically recoil. Finlay, to his credit, withstands it, meeting the full force of Luke’s anger. “So hungry were you for accolades and power that you chose to destroy me.”

Finlay shakes his head. “Ye dinnae have a leg tae stand on.Ye’re no’ royal.”

“But I was your friend. And I thought that was important, too.”

“So hate me, then,” Finlay says quietly, his green eyes dark beneath his hair. “Go on. I know I deserve it. I know I should have looked before I leaped. Literally nothin’ ye say will be anything I huvnae telt myself every single night.”

Behind them, Rory looks on, his gaze darting between them at every knife-twisting outburst.He’s the instigator, I think to myself.He’s the one who caused this.But I’m all too aware of the strings being pulled by his father, gleaming brightly from above.

“This is helping no one,” I point out softly, and I place my hand on Luke’s arm. After a tense moment, he finally relaxes under me.

“No. No, it isn’t,” Rory agrees. Perhaps he just wants this row to end, perhaps he doesn’t want the hot tempers of his best friends to engulf him too, because he snaps, “You,” and to my surprise he’s addressing Danny. “What do you think? Do you have any notes of divine wisdom to impart? Because while you’re being mute and contributing fuck-all, we could really use some of it right now.”

Danny blinks in surprise, still clutching the tartan cushion between his arms. His glance sweeps across to Finlay, who’s still harassed and checking his phone, to me with Luke, who seems ready to smash the empty glass between his fingers, and over to Rory, who locks eyes with him, awaiting whatever pearl Danny with his infinite wisdom can provide.

“I guess two things come to mind,” Danny murmurs with a frown, rising unexpectedly to Rory’s challenge. “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. And the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

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