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.

Every senior knew Delilah was guaranteed to win this year’s Kingsley Prize, just as they knew she was a shoo-in to win homecoming queen. Most of them knew about Delilah’s oxy habit, too, but no one seemed to care.

It had been more than a year since Delilah first started sidling up to Lily in the cafeteria, asking if she’d gotten her prescription filled yet. Lily was supposed to take the pills for her legs, but she hardly ever did—anything stronger than an Advil made her feel out of control, which made her anxious and nauseous, and sometimes that was worse than the pain in the first place—so at first she started giving Delilah one pill at a time, when she asked. Slowly, that turned into two pills at a time. Then four. Now Lily just handed over the whole bottle at the start of each month, saving only a couple for her really bad days. Once last semester Maria had seen Delilah bent over the sink in the locker room, snorting up the crushed pills with a rolled-up dollar bill. Superclassy homecoming queen behavior.

“Hey.” Mateo sank onto the bed next to Lily. He was sweaty, with dark hair curling over his forehead, but he smiled and held out a fresh can of seltzer. “Looks like you’re all out. Want this one?”

“No, thanks.” Lily tossed her empty can in the recycling and crossed her arms. It took more effort for her to go over to the cooler than it did for everyone else, but that didn’t mean she wanted gestures of pity.