Now that Hunter is out in the open, I’m hopelessly distracted for the rest of the assembly, but I try to take good notes. The marching band comes out and performs, so I snap more pictures.
Finally, it’s time to announce homecoming court. The top five girls and the top five guys from senior class, as voted on by the student body.
The guys are announced first and there are no surprises: Hunter Maxwell, Wally Kazinsky, Mark Poplowski, Ryden Sherlock, and Anderson Milner.
Actually, Anderson does surprise me a bit.
I know Hunter doesn’t actually get screening privileges, but I would’ve thought he’d discourage enough of his friends from voting for Anderson to make sure he didn’t make it on the stage with him at homecoming. There can only be one king and queen, but most of the court get titles, too—prince and princess, duke and duchess.
Maybe he decided not to shun Anderson since I broke up with him. Maybe it’s a gesture of good faith because he doesn’t know we decided to give it another go.
I’ve since come to doubt the soundness of that hastily made decision, but Anderson and I have seen so little of each other since, I haven’t even found time to bring it up.
We’re still on for homecoming this weekend, but I’m having second thoughts about even going.
It’s time to announce the ladies, so I position the nub of my pen against the paper and prepare to jot down all the names as they’re called.
Valerie Johnson is announced first—shock of all shocks.
I roll my eyes as I write her name, but I don’t bother looking up. Once the whole court is announced, I’ll snap a picture of all of them, but I don’t need individual shots of each person.
Melina Eggers is next, then Angelina Adkins. One junior somehow sneaks in after that. Valerie shoots one of her friends a look of confusion as she walks up as if to say, “Who the fuck is she?”
I smile at the excited volleyball player’s surprise victory and get ready to write the final name.
Only, when the MC announces it, it sounds an awful lot like Riley Bishop.
My heart seizes.
That can’t possibly be right.
There’s a murmur in the bleachers, but no one even cheers; they’re all as confused as I am.
I look to Hunter thinking maybe he did this, but he looks surprised, too.
What?
The MC searches the crowd, apparently not even knowing what I look like. “Do we have a Riley Bishop in the house?”
I feel like I’m going to throw up. Heat travels everywhere, making my cheeks flush as I hesitantly step forward.
This is a nightmare. I don’t know how I could possibly have been voted in, but walking across the massive gym floor with everybody watching me is literally a nightmare I’ve had.
“There she is,” says the MC with a big grin, clearly lacking awareness. “Let’s give it up for Riley Bishop.”
Since they’re being told to this time, there is a mild cheer from the bleachers.
My stomach rocks. My legs feel shaky. So many people are watching.
“I think there’s been a mistake,” I tell the MC, my voice shaking a little because of my upset nerves.
He laughs. “No mistake. Come on, take your place with everyone else.”
“I write for the paper. I’m supposed to take a picture, not be in the picture.”
This time he ignores me and turns his attention back to the crowd, who need a little hyping now that my name has been called.
I feel hot and shaky as I walk over to stand with the people I most assuredly do not fit in with. The volleyball girl flashes me a smile, but I find it hard to look at anyone else.
Approaching Hunter in public has never worked out very well for me, and I’m standing up here on display with him now.
He’s at ease in a situation like this, but I’m a mess in front of this crowd.
I can scarcely breathe already, and then Anderson walks over to stand beside me. Horror swells up as he grabs my shoulder, and before I can stop him, he leans in and kisses me right on the mouth.
I am too horrified to kiss him back.
My chest feels like it’s going to cave in. My gaze jumps to Hunter.
His face is a mask of shock, his brown eyes locked on me, burning with barely restrained anger.
Anderson must not notice my corpse-like enthusiasm, because he settles his arm around my shoulders and turns to face the crowd with a big smile on his face.
Oh my God.
I’m surprised I can hear anything with the cheers from the crowd, but from just a few feet away, I very distinctly hear Hunter ask, “Why did he just kiss her?”
“Oh, didn’t you hear, baby?” Valerie chirps, sliding her arm around his waist and shooting me a sparkling, conniving smile as she hugs him. “They got back together after my party.”
Chapter Thirty One
Hunter
Rage tingles beneath my skin, tensing my muscles as I stand there looking out at the bleachers but only seeing red.
Valerie’s words are an explanation, but that kiss… that kiss was a fucking punch to the gut.
Didn’t matter that she wasn’t into it—again.
Didn’t matter that she looked absolutely horrified that I was seeing it.
He kissed her and he felt comfortable enough kissing her to do it with the whole school watching.
He kissed her and she fucking let him.
She got back together with him.
Unbelievable.
I ask her to homecoming and she tells me no.
I guess that means she’s going with him.
She doesn’t even like him. Anderson Milner is the boyfriend equivalent of the fifth safety school you apply to, not the coveted fucking Ivy Leagues.
Riley deserves better.
Yet, she shot me down to go with that motherfucker.
Here I am sending her flowers every week like a lovesick idiot, and someone else gets the pleasure of her company.
That better be all he’s fucking getting.
I look over at Riley again, remembering what she said by the oak tree about not enjoying being the center of attention. I can see she meant it. Her face is somehow pale and drawn while being flushed and covered with a light sheen of perspiration at the same time.
Valerie is so proud of herself. She can barely contain it as she squeezes me, somehow thinking she’s won the prize. Like I’m a goddamn trophy she can put on display to impress all her friends with.
Look what I have.
Disgust settles in my gut. I push her off me and step away. It’s too hot in here to be grabbed and clung to anyway, but if someone’s going to cling to me, I don’t want it to be her.
My gaze drifts back to Riley. Everyone was encouraged to wear the school colors today, and while Riley isn’t much for team spirit, she is obedient enough to listen to any rules that are thrown her way.
As long as they don’t come from me, apparently.
She’s wearing a red Hawthorne High T-shirt—I’m surprised she even owns one—with a black cardigan and a pair of black leggings that hug her ass pretty damn nicely. Her long brown hair is down and not even slightly messed with since she couldn’t have possibly guessed she would wind up in front of a camera today.
I glance over at Valerie. She knew to be prepared, so she’s all made up, not a hair out of place even though she was jumping around, fake lashes on so her eyes will pop for the camera.