Violet Grenade(53)

I try not to think of my confrontation with Cain, or Wilson's anger toward Jack, and instead focus on the girls who are rapidly becoming-dare I think it-friends. It's almost enough to make me reconsider my plan of moving up and out.

But then the night comes. A night I spend entirely awake with two cups of cold, leftover coffee in my belly. So that this time, I hear the shuffling.

It comes from beneath my bed.





Chapter Thirty-Three

Abracadabra!

An arm swings out from beneath my mattress, and I swallow bile. There's a person under my bed. She must have come in before Poppet and I did, snuck beneath the pink fringe bed skirts, and waited until we fell asleep. No wonder our assailants still reached us when we blocked the door.

They slept there overnight.

They hate us that much.

I snap forward and grab the person's wrist. Slim, veiny-a girl's wrist. I jerk on it and hear her squeal with surprise.

"Get out from under there!" I yell.

Poppet is awake now, bolting upright. "What's going on?"

I pull on the wrist harder until a face appears from under my bed. Because it's dark, I cross the room and flip on the lamp. When I see who stares back at me from the floor, I gasp.

Dark hair, blond eyebrows, a smile that says she's almost proud to be caught.

"Ruby?" Poppet says.

Ruby gets to her feet and I rush to Poppet's bed, peek underneath. There's no one there. I turn on the Point Girl. "So it's you then. All this time, it's been you. Why?"

Ruby shrugs. "You girls think you're so special. Think the rest of us haven't worked to move up? Think we haven't asked the madam for the same allowances? But here you come and her equality speech goes out the window."

I try to mask how badly the betrayal burns. I didn't see this coming. Not after how kind she'd been, though now I understand why she was always so adamant about keeping the lights off. It was so she could slither under our beds and stay there without being seen. "You've been cutting us! What in the world could that accomplish?"



       
         
       
        

Ruby strides toward the door like she's finished with this conversation.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," I snap.

Don't let her walk out on us, Wilson growls.

Poppet gets to her feet. "You were the only one?"

I look at Poppet like what does that matter, but Ruby laughs and turns partway around. "Nah. It was a group effort. See, we're friends. But you two are just a couple of holier-than-thou skanks. You're like parasites." She grins and touches a finger to her nose. "One of my girls said she was counting the days until you were gone, and it gave us an idea."

A cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. These girls are worse than the Carnations. At least they were up-front about their resentment. But to hide beneath our beds and torture us while we slept, all while being welcoming to our faces? It makes me sick.

"I want you off my floor." Ruby's voice holds a warning.

There are two beats of silence before our bedroom door opens and another Daisy strides inside. "Oh, crap. They found us out?" She throws her head back and laughs. It's theatrical, that laugh, like she planned for this moment.

Three more girls are close on her heels.

Oh, good. They're all here. It's go time.

"Get out," I whisper.

A Daisy with shiny skin, slick with lotion, crosses her arms. "Didn't you know? We own this floor, which means we own this room, too. You could sleep in the hallway if you'd like. Right, Ruby?"

Ruby shrugs one shoulder. "Don't ever say we aren't charitable."

"Get out of here," I repeat. My blood pounds behind my eyes as Wilson pulls on boxing gloves, bounces around inside my head, and swings right hooks. He's being funny, but I'm not laughing.

The girl with the well-lotioned face uncrosses her arms and powers toward me. "I'm tired of this chick."

I don't know what she intends to do, but Poppet cuts her off. Slaps her cold across the face and shoves her backward. "You get near Domino again, and I'll hit you a second time. This time with a closed fist."

The girl acts like she might accept the challenge, but Poppet is quick to flinch in her direction. "Try it! Hit me! But you better know where I come from. You better know who you're picking a fight with."

I don't move. Neither does anyone else. If Lotion Face decides to take on Poppet, I'll hit her before she can rear back. But for now, I let Poppet hold the floor. I let her protect me. My body floods with affection for Poppet, this girl with small eyes behind thick glasses. This girl who told me she'd never leave with me, but won't stand by as someone threatens her friend.