Page 79 of Filthy Elite

“Relax, he’s just making a delivery,” I say, extracting my hand from hers.

“Fine, but you shouldn’t be hanging out with him at all anymore, not just tonight,” she says, looking annoyed. “You don’t need to remind people of the last three years. They’re willing to forget and put it behind them. You have to do the same if you want to be popular.”

“So I have to ditch the few friends who stood by me at my lowest if I want to get back on top?”

“When they’re like him? Yeah. He’s from your time as a loser. You’re a winner now. You belong in the winner’s circle, and he doesn’t.”

“Wouldn’t that include you?” I point out. “You stood by me then.”

“I was with you way before you met him,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand as we head back to the deck. “When you were still a winner. He’s a loser friend. You only met him because no one at our school would talk to you. How are you going to be popular again if you’re trying to drag all the bottom feeders up with you?”

“Glad to know how you really feel,” I say, stepping away from her and clasping hands with Maverick when we reach the bar where he’s ordering a drink.

“Hey, Dynamo,” he says. He tips his chin at Harper. “Hey, Teeny.”

“We came to a party to hang out with your ex?” Royal grumbles.

“You got the goods?” I ask.

“Everyone here cool?”

“They wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.”

He pulls a baggie out of his pocket and hands it over before taking the shot of tequila from the bartender.

“Can I have one of those?” Magnolia asks, coming up with her friends from the dance floor. “Or are you going to be stingy like you are with your pills?”

“You’re fourteen.”

“So?” Dixie asks. “I seem to remember you shoving coke up my nose at the last New Year’s party, and I was a freshman then. Let her have a little fun.”

“Yeah,” Maggie says, hooking her arm through Dixie’s in solidarity. “I’m old enough to come to the parties, so I’m old enough to partake in what goes on here. You were doing it when you were younger than me.”

“That was coke,” I point out. “This shit’s new. You don’t know what it’ll do to you.”

“Is that Lady Alice?” Duke asks. “That should make things more like the parties I’ve heard about. Give me a couple.”

“I haven’t even paid the guy,” I point out. “Calm your nuts.”

“Gimme some,” Duke demands of Maverick, looking him up and down with a belligerent look in his eye already, like he’s considering getting the brawl started.

“I would, since I know Dynamo here’s good for it, but I don’t answer to pretty boys with silver spoons shoved so far up their asses they’re coming out their mouths,” Maverick drawls.

“Fuck you, homo,” Duke says, grabbing for the bag.

It strikes me right then, the enormity of this moment. I don’t have to obey—and there will be no consequences if I don’t.

I close my hand around the bag, glaring hard at my nemesis.

“No.”

It may be the simplest word in the English language, only two letters, something a baby can understand, but it’s the sweetest word I’ve ever spoken.

“Come on, give it to me,” Duke growls, his brows lowering in a way that makes a swirl of memories rush up in me—all the blows I’ve received, the beatings I’ve taken, the trips to the hospital.

Now I stand my ground, staring him down. “Stop.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but maybe he sees that no one’s come to back him up, that no one cares. Royal’s standing just a few feet off, his arms around Harper, not moving a muscle to interfere, to force me to obey or bow or get on my knees for his brother’s sick version of a power trip.

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