Where was she?

Did she leave?

Unease trickled down my spine.

Fuck, I hoped she didn't bail on me.

"Congrats, king of the bay," Britt bit out between her veneers as she smiled for the flashing cameras, when she was crowned. "Don't forget to smile for your adorning fans."

I rolled my eyes, repulsed by her near proximity. "Right back atcha, Maleficent."

"Maybe now you'll think a little more carefully about the company you keep," she sniped, still fake smiling. "Dancing with that scab isn't good for your image."

My hackles rose. "Get fucked."

"Image is everything in our world, D," she continued, unperturbed. "And Peterson is far from arm candy – especially for a guy in your position."

"Say one more thing about her and I'll throw you off this goddamn stage," I warned. "Image or not. I don't give a damn, Britt."

She scoffed. "I've known you since birth, and you've never put hands on a female in your life."

"Yeah, well, I've been going through some changes as of late," I bit out through clenched teeth. "And there's a first time for everything."

"Whatever," she huffed. "Never realized you were so touchy, King."

"Because you don’t know shit about me, Beckitt," I bristled. "But I've always known you were a stone-cold bitch."

Her gaze flashed to me and her eyes narrowed in anger. "We have to dance together."

"Not on your life," I shot back with a forced smile, as last year's homecoming queen placed a sash over my head before crowning me with a piece of plastic that matched Britt's.

"We have to," she argued, still smiling, while she held a humongous bouquet of flowers in her arms. "It's tradition, jackass."

"Then for tradition's sake, you better pray that it ain't a slow song, because if you even think about putting those nasty ass hands on me, I'll start a new tradition called 'the homecoming king drops the queen on her ass'."

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a bitch."

"Takes one to know one."

Repressing a shudder, I followed the devil in Prada onto the dance floor while our classmates cheered us on.

Thankfully, the DJ either had a badass sense of humor or a serious chip on his shoulder, because he played Bowling For Soup's High School Never Ends, causing a stampede of moshing by my teammates, much to my so-called queen's disgust.

When Britt's gaze flicked to Rourke, I couldn't stop the smirk that spread across my face. He was so wrapped up in Mercy that he didn't give his ex a second glance.

Throwing Mercy over his shoulder, Rourke spun her around like she was a sack of potatoes, much to Mercy's delight – and Britt's disgust.

Stepsister or not, Mercedes James was exactly what Rourke needed; tough as nails and unwilling to take an ounce of his shit.

The look of shock on Britt's face was picture fucking perfect.

Serves your cheating ass right for repeatedly stepping out on him, I mentally thought as I beamed with pride, grateful that my friend had finally gotten over what I could only describe as the very worst kind of wrong for him.