Stuck With The Four Hotties

“Who invited Coventry Prep?” Becky says, at a volume that’s clearly meant to carry. “This is a Burberry party.” She steps in front of Lizzie and gives her a little shove in the chest.

“Don’t test me,” Lizzie says, just as loudly. “You saw what happened last year when you tried.”

Becky pushes her again, this time with two hands.

Lizzie stumbles back, and then Tristan’s there, hauling Becky up and away, and tossing her to the sand.

“Do not touch my people, Platter,” he says, pointing at her. His face is dead serious. Without having to try, his voice cuts through the murmuring and the whispering. There are Plebs everywhere, watching us. I rise to my feet, sensing violence. Back at Ileana Taittinger’s party, when I dumped the cars in the pool, I could see factions forming in the audience. The same thing is happening here.

Tristan versus Harper, King versus Queen.

“If you keep talking, I’ll toss you right out of this limo, and we’ll find out if the Plebs enjoy their queen better … or their king. Don’t test me, Harper.”

Looks like we’re about to find out.

“Don’t think anything’s changed at the academy. I’m still an Idol. Creed, Zayd, and I still have an Inner Circle.” Tristan swings his arm to indicate our little group. “You’re looking at them. Hands off.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Ileana squeaks behind him, but he’s ignoring her completely. She’s a vicious little rat, but that’s all she is: vermin. Harper and Becky are the ringleaders, and those boys are their pets. I swallow hard and Zack reaches down to take my hand. As soon as he touches me, I feel warmth surge up my arm and into my chest.

Tristan lifts his head, and I swear to god, it’s the cockiest, most arrogant thing I’ve ever seen, the way he pushes raven-black hair from his face. His gray eyes sparkle as he sneers.

“Burberry Prep has a new queen.”

“Lizzie?” Harper screeches, trying and failing to toss back what’s left of her brunette hair. Hah. Go Windsor.

“No,” Tristan says, pointing back at me. “Her.”

“The Working Girl?” Harper blurts, and suddenly, all eyes are on me. I don’t know why, but I stand up.

My heart is pounding so fast that I feel dizzy, but I hold my ground.

“What makes you think you control the academy?” Becky sneers, taking Sai Patel’s hand so he can pull her to her feet. The Bluebloods assemble like an army behind the three Idol girls.

“Think?” Tristan echoes, scoffing like Becky’s a brainless idiot. I mean, I’m pretty sure she is, but he definitely puts that feeling into his voice in a way I’m not sure I could. “I don’t think anything. I am in charge of the academy.”

He turns and starts to walk away when Harper grabs onto his arm, digging her nails into his rounded biceps.

“I haven’t told William that we broke up yet,” she says, her voice just this side of pleading. “He doesn’t have to know.” I glance over at Lizzie and see that her shoulders have gone completely stiff. She’s staring at Tristan with this mix of want and confusion that makes my chest hurt. Maybe … now that he’s broken up with Harper, now that he’s trying to change his ways, she might want him?

I step forward without meaning to, and both Zayd and Zack stand up behind me.

“I’ve already told him,” Tristan says, shaking her off. “Stop your groveling. It’s pathetic. Nobody here likes you enough to see your vulnerable side and still want to hang out with you. If you want to keep any of your friends, then step down willingly and fade into the background. I have two years left at Burberry to make your life miserable.”

Harper spits in his face, and Tristan scowls, swiping his hand across his face to wipe it off. He keeps walking, heads right over to the refreshments table and gets me the drink that I asked for. While the entire beach watches, he turns back around and delivers it straight to me.

“I won’t kiss you with that girl’s filth on me, but give me a chance to wash off.” I take the soda, doing my best not to gape, and turn to watch as Tristan heads to the edge of the beach, tears his shirt over his head, kicks off his sandals, and wades in.

The buzzing sound of conversation starts up again, like the chirping of insects, as I turn to Zayd and look at him with a million questions bobbing in my eyes.

“Zayd Kaiser, please explain to me what’s happening here,” I whisper as I meet his eyes, and he nods once, briskly.

“I promise I will,” he says, tracing the infinity symbol tattoo over the fabric of his shirt. “Just not here. Before you leave the Hamptons, okay?”

I exhale and take a sip of my soda, but I’m already nodding. Not here, not in this tank of sharks.

I swear, it feels like the eyes of every single Blueblood are on me. That scares me. We’re outnumbered as it is. And I can’t be surrounded by my friends-wait, are the Idols really my friends?-at all times. What happens next time Harper catches me alone in the locker room? Or I come around the corner in the chapel building and find John and Greg waiting for me? My mind strays to that video Andrew took of those psychos chasing him down.

Shivers overtake me.

“Ben has to go down this week,” I whisper, and Zayd gives me a tight half-smile. Creed appears a minute later, pausing next to me as Tristan makes his way up the beach with his dark hair dripping.

I’m not going to lie: he looks like a god.

“So much for ignoring them then?” Creed drawls, yawning and lifting his chin defiantly. “Now what, your majesty?”

“If they engage us, we push back. Don’t let them see any cracks in our comradery, Creed.” Tristan pushes sopping hair from his forehead as Windsor steps up beside him, still sipping foamy beer from a cup. The two men exchange a brief look.

“Of course not, Tristan,” Creed replies, rolling his blue eyes. “We’re the best of friends, aren’t we? Even Zack Brooks here, he’s my buddy.”

“I don’t see why we can’t be friends,” Zack growls, and having all five guys surrounding me like this, it’s quite obvious that he’s the biggest, strongest one. My heart stutters in my chest. “After all, you’ve got a cruel streak to match mine. We’re a match made in heaven. Just so long as you stop directing that inner core of hate on Marnye, we won’t have any problems.”

“When can I beat the shit out of Greg, John, and Ben?” Zayd asks, cracking inked knuckles.

“One step at a time,” Tristan says, staring over my shoulder at the Bluebloods. “One step at a time.” He pushes past Windsor and takes a seat in front of the fire, leaning back against the log for support. “First we win over the Plebs.”

Windsor watches this exchange, and then bites into a peach. I’m not sure where he got it from, but he looks bemused as he smiles at me with juice running down his chin, and then starts off down the beach like he’s taking a stroll.

Even though I promised myself I wouldn’t put my trust in anyone, Windsor is certainly winning me over. I let him go, and I don’t think too hard about it, focusing instead on Miranda and Andrew. She drags him over, pushing past her brother for a spot next to me.

“This is so crazy. Makes last summer look like a breeze,” Miranda whispers, eating the gossip up with a spoon.Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

“This is dangerous,” Andrew hedges, but I can see him watching Windsor as the prince takes off down the beach. Pretty sure he has a crush on him. Everyone does, even Miranda, so I’m not surprised. “If they were that bad at the lake, how are they going to react after being insulted and rejected? Shit.” Andrew curses under his breath and bites his lip, looking down at the sopping wet form of Tristan Vanderbilt. “I hope you know this is going to bleed over into the Club.”

“I’m well-aware,” Tristan says, staring into the fire. He may as well be a thousand miles away. He’s clearly not present right now. Andrew shakes his head and sighs.

Lizzie gets herself a drink and comes back to sit in the sand in front of me, holding her beer between her legs. Her amber eyes flick to Tristan for a second before moving back to my face.

“Don’t worry, Marnye, we’ve got you,” she says, giving an almost shy sort of smile. Part of me wants to hate her for what she did, for making that bet with Zack. But I don’t. She seems so genuine … I know I have to be ready for betrayal at any moment, from any corner, but I don’t want to believe that about Lizzie. People make mistakes. It’s whether or not they learn from them that really matters.

“Easy for you to say,” Miranda says, lifting her chin and sniffing derisively. “Safe over there at Coventry Prep.”

Lizzie’s mouth pops open in surprise, and she blinks several times before answering.

“Didn’t Tristan tell you?” she asks, and I shake my head. Tell me? Tell me what? “I’m transferring to Burberry next year!”

She sounds so excited about it that I smile, but inside, I’m churning. Tristan is staring at me, studying me,

but I don’t let on anything.

Not even to myself.