Chapter Forty-Seven Delaney

Chapter Forty-Seven

Delaney

Three Years Ago

Delaney was going to kill someone.

She had a list going.

Declan, for throwing this stupid party in the first place, at his stupid TikTok collective. And then for doing fuck all to hide the fact that he wanted to get with Eden. Also for his horrific Christmas prank. Dildo Delaney. Fuck. That. Guy.

Eden, for being hot and rich and perfect, and a two-faced little toad.

Wyatt, for being a weaselly, sexed-up creep.

Camille, for always needing to be the center of attention. The best at everything, even at freaking out about the group being drugged against their consent. She didn't even take one second to care how Delaney was feeling.

And Willa. Useless, needy Willa, who'd begged to tag along to this party, then had clung to her like a pathetic barnacle all night. And now she was throwing herself at Liam Parker-Yang? Like he'd ever think twice about her.

And last, but certainly not least, whoever had spiked their drinks. It made Delaney feel completely out of control, which she never allowed.

When Delaney was out of control, bad things happened. She lost friends and opportunities and people's respect. Because the world couldn't handle Delaney at full tilt, which, yes, was their goddamn loss because she was amazing, but Delaney was too smart not to do what she could to stay in everyone's good graces. That was how the world worked.

What mattered was who people thought you were, not who you actually were.

Everyone had dispersed after the game. Delaney found herself in the kitchen alone. Camille was in the bathroom throwingup.

Bzzzzzzz.

Her phone went off in her bag, which vibrated against her hip. The home screen told her she had ten-plus comments on her latest Instagram post. About time. She'd posted her party look hours ago, and it had been crickets at first.

But when Delaney pulled up the post, she didn't find compliments or kissy-face emojis.

You should be ashamed of yourself

Selfish bitch

ur fat and stupid

That one didn't even make sense, because Delaney was neither of those things. Was she hallucinating? Delaney was so high.

But, no, it was in her DMs, too: a slew of messages from someone named Cassie. Delaney tapped on the profile picture to go to her feed, and what she found curdled her blood. An all-too-familiar screenshot with that stupid nickname from Declan's prank. This was the troll who'd started that whole thing.

Delaney opened the latest photo on the feed. It was her at the party, from tonight. Some moment she didn't even remember. But it looked like her coughing directly onto a terrified-looking waiter. The caption read pandemic? What pandemic? @deliciousdel @warnerperps

And that stupid Warner Prep anon gossip account had reposted it ten minutes ago.

What the hell?

Bzzzzzzzz.

Another notification.

Bzzzzz-zzzzz-zzzzz-z.

And another.

Delaney jammed so hard at the down volume button on her phone, she hissed at the jab of pain that fired through her thumb. But she fully silenced her stupid phone, vibrations and all.

She had to find this Cassie bitch, who must also be at the party. Her profile picture was artfully obtuse, showing a sliver of sly smile and a swash of straw-blond hair covering every other feature. Blond, though. Delaney could use that. Put an end to this troll once and for all.

With heels now pinching the shit out of her toes, Delaney lurched through the patio doors back onto the deck, scanning the crowd. This chick had to go to Warner Prep to know about the @warnerperps account and to have targeted Delaney specifically. Most of the partygoers were older, so she had to look for a teenager, probably someone she wouldn't recognize.

But there was no one of that description anywhere outside.

So Delaney careened back into the house. The front rooms were quiet and dark, but as she swung around the banister to check upstairs, she caught a low murmur of voices coming from the living room. Delaney backtracked, though not before removing the cursed heels, which allowed her the bonus of being able to pad silently across the marble foyer.

"I just hate that that is going to forever be my first kiss." Willa had her back to the stairs, but Delaney could hear her clearly enough. Liam sat next to her on the couch.

"Hey, don't think of it that way. It doesn't count unless you want it to," Liam reassured her. "So you can turn your second kiss into your true first."

"Really?"

Willa was doing a stupid breathy baby-voice thing. Squinting in the half-light, Delaney thought she caught her do a little lip quiver, too. Delaney saw right through her, trying to take advantage of Liam's good nature, his whole Boy Scout thing. But then he was leaning forward and, wait, was it working ?

Something bright and acidic exploded in Delaney's chest, amplified tenfold from the drugs, as she watched that absolute snack of a boy brush his lips ever so gently against Willa's. It took every reserve Delaney possessed not to cry out, stomp in there, and smack the blissed-out expression right off her friend's face.

But it was over, and Willa never knew what to do with a good thing. "I should find Noah and get my phone. My mom will kill me with surge pricing, but I need an Uber." Willa stood up in a rush, teetering off-balance.

"My parents will be back at midnight, so I need to get going anyway. You want to grab a ride home with me and Noah? It's on me."

Willa nodded enthusiastically, and with Liam to steady her, they both walked Delaney's way.

Shit. Delaney turned and made a dash up the stairs so they wouldn't catch her. The second floor was a maze of bedrooms.

She walked in on Eden and Declan curled up on a love seat in the corner of a game room. Dressed, at least, but pointedly disheveled. Eden had her phone out and was filming Declan prattling on about something stupid, she was sure.

"Heyyyyyyy," Eden greeted her, a sly turn to her lips. "Feeling better?"

"Much," Delaney lied through her teeth. Which she wore in a grin. Then she sauntered over to her beau and draped herself over him. She savored the microscopic twitch at her closeness. He was on notice. Eden was still filming on her phone.

"Are you live?" Delaney inquired.

"No, just messing around for later. TikToks, stories, whatever. Content is king."

"Definitely."

Eden sucked air through her teeth. "People need to calm the eff down."

"Another message?" Declan frowned. "What are they saying?"

"?‘You should be ashamed of yourself. People are dying.'?"

The words rang a bell. Against her better judgment, Delaney fished her phone out of her pocket and shared the @warnerperps photo with them.

"Oh my god, someone took that and sent it to them?" Eden's tone was shrill. "Jesus, Delaney, why did you cough on a waiter? Now we're all getting nasty DMs."

"I didn't! It's…" Delaney trailed off. "You're the one who insisted on having this huge party and invited us all." She flipped on Declan.

"Yeah, and you showed up." He shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is. We're all fine. I tested negative this morning. And you guys all took tests, right?"

They nodded.

"This whole thing is so stupid," Eden whined. "We've been cooped up for, like, a year. We waited long enough. Even if we did get sick, we have private doctors. They're just mad that we have the money to take extra precautions and have a good time."

"Amen." Declan moved to high-five Eden, dislodging Delaney from his lap. She slumped against a giant plush throw pillow, savoring the way it cocooned her body. Definitely still high, she kept watching the comments stream on her phone.

Eat the rich.

Wowwwwww some people deserve all they get

If you get someone killed, I hope you feel guilty for the rest of your life.

Fat chance of that. Delaney never regretted anything.

Man, fuck COVID. I'm in the prime of my life, baby!

Declan had his phone out and was playing that stupid viral TikTok of his. His fifteen minutes of fame, already waning. Why hadn't Delaney seen it before? Declan was a flash in the pan. He'd be a washed-up has-been by twenty. She needed to get the hell out while she could.

The words tripped on her tongue: Let's break up. You and Eden deserve each other. But before she could go through with it, Declan turned all serious.

"Delaney, babe, listen…I feel like you're not even that into me? Into us? And I was thinking, uh, maybe this has run its course?"

"You're breaking up with me?" she ground out, slow and hard. Declan flinched.

"I figured it was mutual," he backpedaled.

No, he did not get to do that, and not with those big mopey nice eyes and mature attitude. And Eden had that goddamn phone pointed right at her. Probably live streaming the breakup for views. No, no, no, he would not turn her into a viral laughingstock again.

Control yourself, she thought, but it was so much easier said than done, especially when she was still so, so high. Her blood was kicking inside her, frothing and foaming like angry ocean waves.

Delaney's phone lit up with a notification, and she welcomed the distraction. "What does it say?" Eden prodded her.

"?‘Stay home, bitch,'?" Delaney read out. "?‘Nobody even likes you. Hope karma gets you.' Kissy-face emoji."

"Jesus." Despite the whole just-broke-up thing, Declan reached for Delaney's hand. A gesture of comfort.

If Delaney had been normal, this would have been the moment where she'd be tearing up, shell-shocked and wounded. But Delaney wasn't like everyone else. All she felt was rage.

"What is wrong with people? I'm not killing anyone. And I didn't cough on a waiter. Some bitch named Cassie took that picture and posted it. I hope she gets sick and dies. Pathetic loser."

Eden and Declan didn't say anything, and Delaney took it as fuel. Space to rage on.

"I've been cooped up all year, and all I wanted was to go to a party, in Malibu, with my boyfriend. Now I don't have a boyfriend, and, look, it sucks that people are dying and all that, but there are millions of people in the world. The planet is overpopulated, and we're facing a global-warming crisis. Who cares if some people die? It's poor people, mostly. It's, like, Darwinism or whatever."

This time when Delaney looked at Declan and Eden, really examined their faces, she saw their slack-jawed horror. And Eden's phone, poised vertically in front of her chest.

"You weren't recording that, right?"