She’d been unanimously elected homecoming queen last year, and everyone already knew the same thing would happen this year too. She was first in their class, edging out Maria by one one-hundredth of a point. She was senior class president and captain of the soccer team, the cross-country team, and the debate team. She was only vice president of the Gay-Straight Alliance, but that was because Mateo had founded the GSA back in their freshman year. And, of course, because Delilah wasn’t gay. At least, not gay enough.

And as of today, Delilah was first in line for the Kingsley Prize.

The Cawdor Kingsley Foundation Prize went to five graduating seniors from Virginia private schools based on their grades, extracurriculars, and all the other usual stuff. Each of the five winners came from a different school, and Acheron had had a winner every year since the award was created. It came with a free ride to the college of your choice, plus two years of grad school. Winning it pretty much guaranteed you’d get into any college in the country.

At Acheron, winning the Kingsley Prize was just called “winning.” You said the word and everyone knew exactly what you were talking about.

Cawdor Kingsley himself was dead now, but before that he’d been some rich “Southern gentleman” who’d made his fortune running manufacturing plants that had killed every fish, plant, and amoebic creature in half the rivers in the state. Like many a Southern gentleman before him, he’d been a proud member of his local White Citizens’ Council, barely one step removed from the Klan. Now his great-grandkids were trying to redeem the family name by giving his money away to everyone they could think of.

The preliminary list of finalists had gone up early that morning, with Delilah’s name right at number one. The list was just a formality, though. Everyone had already known the prize would go to Delilah. That was how it worked when you’d already won everything else there was to win. Most of the seniors hadn’t even bothered to put their names in.

That was the reason Maria had spent the evening getting drunk and glassy-eyed. Or part of the reason, anyway.

Officially, there would be a second round of judging in a few weeks, because the prize committee was still accepting late applications. They wouldn’t announce the declared winners until after Christmas.

Not that it mattered. Delilah was in first place now, and when the time came, Delilah would win. Then she’d get into her dream school, Princeton, and she wouldn’t even have to pay for it. Winning made you the most important person at Acheron. The alumni threw you a huge party. You’d be on the front page of the school newspaper and the local paper, too. Best of all, your name got added to the official Kingsley plaque, the first thing the student ambassadors showed to every group of prospective parents who came through the campus.