Stuck With The Four Hotties

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155

“Thank you, Miranda. But Marnye still needs to answer my question.”

Wow. This is literally the most strict I’ve ever seen Charlie Reed in my life, and just before I turn seventeen, too. My heart skips a beat, and I glance at Windsor as I consider what, exactly, I should say to get out of trouble. Without having to lie, that is. I raise an eyebrow at the prince, and he raises one back at me. Something about him makes me want to tell the truth, and it just tumbles out.

“My friends are here to invite me to the Hamptons,” I say, and there’s something surreal about that phrase. We’re in California currently. The Hamptons are on the opposite side of the country, in the northeast. That means packing, a plane ride, a place to stay, parental supervision. Err, at least some pretend parental supervision.

“The Hamptons?” Charlie asks, and then he narrows his eyes slightly as he tries to think about where that is. “You mean in New York?”

“Sir, if I may,” Windsor says, stepping forward and stealing the show yet again. It’s sort of a thing he does. “I’m Windsor York. I don’t believe we’ve met?”

Charlie raises his eyebrows and gives him a look that very clearly says he’s not buying what the prince is selling.

“I’m the president of the host club, to which your daughter belongs.” “Host club?” Charlie asks, and pretty much everyone in the room groans.

Wow. Windsor’s making a joke about a very specific Japanese anime show called Ouran High SFhool Host Club. There’s a main female character surrounded by guys … basically a reverse harem sort of situation.

“A host club … is a group of students who mentor other students,” I explain, which is true, but also sort of … not. More accurately, it’s a group of people who are paid to be attentive and talkative with their clients, or even possibly paid to date, cuddle, or kiss. Not exactly prostitutes because there’s no sex involved, but similar. I don’t confirm or deny if Windsor’s telling the truth and forge on. “They all want me to come to the Hamptons this summer.” I pause and point at my bestie. Creed was right, I suppose. “I’d be staying with Miranda.”

She grins, squeals, and then throws her arms around me in a huge hug. “Marnye,” Charlie continues as he meets my eyes. “That’s not the

problem. What are these three doing here? I don’t want them in my house.”

He looks up and meets Zack’s eyes. “I’m not sure I want him here either.” “They’re trying to make up for what they did,” I blurt, and as soon as the

words leave my mouth, I know they’re true.

“That may be so,” Dad sighs, “but I’m sorry, the four of you need to leave.” There’s a tension in the room that’s making my stomach hurt. Somehow, the idea of my dad hating these guys bothers me even though it shouldn’t. I mean, I’m thrilled that he’s standing up for me, that he loves me enough to care, but …

“Please let me go to the Hamptons.” The words fall out in a blur as Zack, Tristan, Creed, and Zayd rise from their respective seats and pause. I’m not even sure why I’m begging. Do I really want to go, knowing that Harper and her cronies will be there? Besides, Dad is sick, and I should stay … but what if I went for a weekend, a week at most?

Clearly, there’s trouble with the Infinity Club, and with the girls. What if I could get that sorted out during the summer and start fresh? Bullshit, Marnye, my brain interrupts. You just want to spend time with them. With all of them.

“I’d be staying with Kathleen and Miranda,” I continue, and Dad’s gaze swings right to Creed. The boy’s shoulders stiffen, but thankfully, he keeps his cavalier little mouth closed.

“Isn’t the Cabot boy one of your bullies?” Charlie asks, looking at Creed with such a pained expression that my hurt hearts for them both. “Why?” he says suddenly, turning from Creed to Zayd to Tristan, and then swinging over to Zack. “Why my little girl, my heart?” Dad’s face tightens up with such a strong mix of anger and sadness that I take a step toward him. “Marnye’s had a hard life, with my idiot ass getting drunk, and her mother

…” Charlie exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them again. “Why did you have to pick her, of all people? What did she do to deserve your hatred?”

“Sir.” The first person to speak up is Creed, surprising me. Dad glances his way warily, meeting those ice-blue eyes dead-on. “There’s no excuse for what we did. We picked on Marnye because she was poor.” Dad bristles, but Creed carries on as if he doesn’t notice. “We thought she was an easy target; she’s not. Mr. Reed, your daughter is strong.”

Creed pauses and exhales, slouching slightly, like that speech took a lot out of him. My skin turns a bright red, and my palms sweat, but I’m not really sure what to say. Glancing over, I find Miranda with this tender

expression on her face as she gazes at her twin. She said she thought Creed was redeemable; maybe she was right?

“Pretty words, son,” Charlie says, reaching up to rub at his forehead. “But I can’t for the life of me figure out why you’d all come here and invite my daughter on a trip if it wasn’t for some sort of prank.”

“I can assure you,” Tristan interrupts, his voice that authoritative steel that works on everyone … except for Charlie. Dad does not look he’s going to be convinced by anything Tristan has to say. “That there are other reasons.”

“Like?” Dad begins, and Windsor grins. Zack looks frustrated, and Zayd won’t look at my dad for shit. He’s clearly ashamed to be sitting here right now. Our eyes meet, and I have this desperate need to just sit down and talk with him. For hours. Maybe days.

I need to go to the Hamptons.

“Like, we’re all crushing-” Windsor starts, and I step forward, elbowing him hard in the side. Dad, however, has heard, and now he looks just as terrified as before, if not more so.

“Call Kathleen Cabot,” I say, glancing back at Miranda, and she nods, a small smile lighting on her lips. I turn back to Dad. “Call Kathleen, and she’ll tell you. I’ll be st

aying with her and Miranda.”