Stuck With The Four Hotties

Lunch with Andrew the next day is pleasant, easy, no hidden threads of intent in his voice. We talk about his family’s beach home in Hawaii, about the winter formal next month, and I briefly tell him about my home in the old train car. There’s no judgement in his face, and when he asks me if we can go out sometime, it’s a yes. That spark of interest I thought I saw the first day of school is still there; I can see it when he looks at me.

Andrew invites me to spend Thanksgiving with a family friend of his who has a country home near the academy, but I’ve already made plans with Zack. Dinner at his family’s lake house ends up involving just the two of us, and a huge catered meal with all the usual fixings. It’s delicious, but kind of lonely, especially since I can sense that Zack’s frustrated about something. I figure it’s about his parents and their friends cancelling over a last-minute business meeting, but he’s impossible to read and I don’t ask.

I still don’t quite get why he invited me over in the first place, or why he’s suddenly so interested in me and my dad again.

“Who cares why he showed up?” Miranda groans, putting her hands over her face and then dropping them into her lap. She’s definitely shipping me and Zack. When I told her what happened while she was gone, she was strangely close-lipped about everything. She didn’t even weigh in on my date with Andrew. But right now, I can’t seem to shut her up. “He clearly likes you. Besides that, he has an amazing body, he could go pro in football if he wanted, and he’s got that overprotective quality that I like.”

“Are you dating him or am I?” I ask, smiling as we walk down the halls to the sound of sweet, sweet anonymity. It’s been two weeks since the party at the casino, and nobody’s bothered me. No rude notes shoved into my locker, or condoms pushed under my door. They’ve briefly stopped calling me the Working Girl, and I’ve been left alone to practice the harp in peace, eat in The Mess, or even go for a swim in the academy pool.

“I’m just saying, Zack’s a good guy. I like him.” Miranda swings her leather bookbag as we walk, heading for the gym. Harper, Becky, Abigail, and Valentina have made this class a living hell for me, snickering about my body behind raised hands, shouting at me when I’m on the diving board, stealing my towel when I’m in the showers. But not since casino night. I’m actually starting to enjoy learning how to swim properly. Before coming to Burberry Prep, all I could manage was a shaky dog paddle.

Of course, in the back of my mind, I know this peace is on a time-limit, and I’m counting down the days until the first of the new year with dread. That, and … there’s all the rest of it. I didn’t just play the guys once and lose. I played three times, and lost three times. How that happened, I have no idea. I should’ve just let it go after the first loss.

At least I now have fifty-five thousand dollars in my account-forty for the first game we played, and an additional five for each of the three rounds I lost. I feel like I let my greed get the best of me, and my cheeks flush just remembering it.

I’ve decided that for now, I’m going to save it for college.

On the plus side, Lizzie and I have been texting since the casino, and I feel like we’re actually starting to become friends. Miranda seems guarded whenever I mention her, but I’m guessing that has more to do with Tristan than Lizzie herself.

I try not to think about what I owe the Idols. A favor. A kiss. A secret.

Miranda holds open the door to the gym, and I step inside, slamming into a chest so hard that it hurts my nose.

Creed is standing there, and he narrows his eyes as I reach up to rub at my face.

“Your pecs are painful,” I grumble, but he’s already ignoring me, focusing on his sister instead.

“You haven’t spoken to me in weeks. I’m sick of it.”

“So you’ll follow me into the girls’ locker room?” Miranda asks, pursing her lips. Her eyes brim with sudden tears. “Why don’t you just control my entire life?” She turns to leave, and I’m so shocked that I just stand there. Creed, however, reaches out and grabs hold of her upper arm, keeping her in place. “Tristan told me you were sniffing around, asking everyone at the party about me.” She tries to pull from her brother’s grip, but his fingers tighten until she winces. He sees, and an almost imperceptible muscle in his jaw twitches before he lets go. “If you want to know something, Creed, then ask me yourself.” She glares at her brother, nostrils flaring, left hand curled in the pleats of her skirt.

“Who are you dating, and how did Derrick fuck-face get a hold of nude photos?”

“Derrick …” Miranda starts, cheeks flushing. I told her what happened at the lodge, but she laughed it off, saying that Derrick Barr was just a texting fling. She showed me the images that Creed was referring to, rationalizing that she was wearing a bra so they ‘weren’t really nudes’. I didn’t know what to say to that. Doesn’t matter how naked she was in those pics, that didn’t give Derrick and his friends a right to pass them around and make vulgar commentary. I’m almost glad he got his ass handed to him by Creed and Tristan. “He’s nothing.”

“Are you screwing Tristan?” Creed asks, blue eyes sparking with rage. My mouth drops open. He came to the same conclusion as I did … I remember Abigail’s face when Tristan whispered in her ear. He’s a monster, no doubt about that. Just before Zayd and I left the casino, I found him and asked what he’d said, and he smiled at me. “I told her she Fould never have me. Nobody Fan. And if by some miraFle, I were going to Fhoose a girl, it sure as hell wouldn’t be her.” Tristan smirked at me then, leaning close and putting his cheek against mine. “I said I’d rather date the eager little Fharity Fase.” And then he’d pulled back and left in his father’s car.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Tristan?” Miranda chokes out, sounding nervous. She flicks her gaze in my direction, and then shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Marnye, just … tell coach I’m having period cramps.” She turns and takes off down the hall, her bookbag and ponytail bobbing.