Stuck With The Four Hotties

I cross my arms over my chest, fully aware that I’m wearing nothing but a robe with lingerie underneath. Don’t get any ideas: the lingerie isn’t for anyone but me. It makes me feel more confident.

“You look good, Reed,” Zack says, wearing his letterman jacket with a tight black t-shirt, dark jeans, and shiny new sneakers. He looks like a million bucks. His outfit, as unassuming as it is, probably costs about the same. “Off to the party, I’m guessing?”

“What do you want, Zack?” I ask, looking at him and wondering if he’s here out of guilt, worry, curiosity, all three? I don’t need him to pay attention to me because he feels like he has to. And I didn’t need him to transfer here out of some sick sense of duty. He can be as nice as he wants to me; it doesn’t change anything. His name is still on my list.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“Let me be your backup,” he says with a loose shrug of his massive shoulders. The movement makes the muscles in his chest shift, and my eyes catch on the fabric of his tee as it strains with the motion. Good god. No wonder the coach was okay with taking a second year onto the varsity team. Zack is bigger than every other guy at this school, including the fourth years. I bet he crushes dudes on the field. “The staff doesn’t know about the party tonight. It’s going to be rough.”

I smile.

That’s exaFtly what I was hoping for, I think, but I don’t say anything. Miranda comes out of the bathroom and pauses, looking Zack over carefully. She hasn’t made up her mind about him one way or another. And by that, I mean she hasn’t decided if he should drown in an icy lake or burn up in a fiery explosion.

“What the hell do you want?” she demands, sauntering up to stand beside me. She’s so regal, and daring. Her replacement in the Inner Circle is a girl called Ileana Taittinger, a first year who became an instant dislike for me

when she told me I was too ugly to be a Working Girl on her second day of class. I’ve added her name to my list. Andrew’s replacement has yet to be determined, but I’m sure whoever he is, he’ll be another one for the books.

“Let me drive you to the party tonight. I won’t hang too close, but at least let me help you make an entrance. You know those guys hate my guts, right? They’ll fucking hate seeing us there together.” I snort, glancing away toward where Andrew’s waiting on the bed. He’s still dressed in his uniform, and even though he hasn’t said anything, there’s this eagerness in him. I think he’s excited to see Gary Jacobs at the party.

“Why do they hate you so much?” I ask, cocking my head to one side and studying Zack. “I mean, they warned me off of you before they even made their stupid bet. Clearly, that wasn’t out of fondness for me. What is it about you that disturbs them so much?”

“My brother might be a cruel jerk, but he would never take it as far as you did. You almost killed Marnye. You’re irredeemable, Zack. Get fucked.” Miranda tosses her hair and smacks me in the face with it. I brush strands away from my glossed lips as she turns on her heel and storms back to the bathroom.

“So you think Creed’s redeemable, huh?” Zack asks, reaching up to rub at his lower lip with his thumb. “You think that bet’s the worst the Infinity Club’s ever come up with? You’re definitely drinking from the cup of naivety when it comes to your twin.”

My brows go up as Miranda turns right around and marches back into the room, blue eyes narrowed to slits. Wow. She looks just like Creed when she does that. A shiver overtakes me, and I cross my arms like I’m hugging myself.

“What exactly does that mean?” she snaps, the words flicking off her tongue like a whip. I cringe a bit, but Zack just stands there, staring at us both.

“If I could tell you, I would.” I snort at that and he flicks his gaze over to me. “What? It’s the truth. The day they told you what Lizzie and I did, I’d already come up with a plan. I was-”

“-going to tell me out of pity and guilt? That’s not good enough for me, Zack.” I exhale sharply and raise my chin defiantly. Our eyes meet, and a small thrill goes through me. He looks sorry, like really freaking sorry. There’s a depth to his sorrow that makes my blood sing. Good. Good, let

him be sorry for what he did. “If Lizzie hadn’t changed the terms of the bet, what then? What would you have done?”

“Marnye,” he starts, his dark voice cracking slightly. “I …” Zack just stops talking, sighs, and then closes his eyes. When he opens them, that same old wall is back, crashing in front of his emotions and cutting them off at the source. He reaches up and rakes his fingers through his short, dark hair. “There’s nothing I can say to make up for what I’ve done. Nothing. I’ll go.”

“Excellent,” Miranda says, pushing him toward the door and opening it up. He lets himself be pushed into the hallway, and the last thing I see before she slams it shut is his face, a deep frown etched into his mouth, his eyes mournful. “What a total douche. I cannot even believe that I pushed you to date him.”

“You think Creed is redeemable?” I ask, and Miranda freezes. She’s turned away, so I can’t see her face, but when she glances over her shoulder, I see that it’s true. She really does. But, I mean, he’s her brother, so what else can I expect?

“I mean, he’s not as bad as Zack …” she starts before turning to look at me. “He’s been really supportive about my being gay, and he even banned the Bluebloods from making homophobic comments.”

“He’s a real winner,” Andrew says with a roll of his eyes. He sits up and gives her a sharp look. “Don’t make excuses for him. I’m not saying Zack’s a good guy, but at least he’s trying to apologize. Creed doesn’t give a crap about how he hurt Marnye.”

Miranda sighs, and nods her head.

I hate to come between her and her brother, but if she sticks with me, it’s going to happen one way or another. I’m not even going to have to take her away from him. He’ll do that all on his own. I close my eyes and remember rule number five on my list: Let them hang themselves with their own rope.

“I won’t make excuses for him,” she says, meeting my eyes. I nod and then grab my new dress off the chair in the corner.

“Let’s get going: I want to make an entrance.”

And so it begins …

The favor I asked from Andrew was simple: let me borrow his car for the year. Technically, no student is allowed to keep a car without special permission. But they all do it anyway. Last year, they literally just tossed caution to the wind and parked in one of the staff lots. This year, with all the new security and scrutiny, they’ve all paid to have their cars delivered to a lot just off the campus property. Getting to it means sneaking through the woods in glittering party dresses and trailing perfume. I swear, there’s so much cologne and body spray in this copse of trees, I feel like I might choke. “I think every freaking student in the school is here,” Miranda whispers as we walk across the wet grass in flats, our heels clutched in our hands, purses slung over our shoulders. I’ve embraced the Burberry Prep lifestyle: I’m wearing a dress that costs too much money for me to fathom, and I’ve got the heels that Creed bought me. All in all, including the jewelry I borrowed from Miranda, I’m wearing over five thousand dollars in clothing and

accessories.

I almost gag at that thought.

Also, pretty sure I’m the most frugally dressed one there anyway.

“It’s like a mass exodus,” Andrew whispers, passing me his keys. I can see the bright glare of phone screens, and the sparkle of jewelry and dresses winking at me from various spots in the trees. If the staff doesn’t know what we’re all up to, I’d be surprised. Then again, how can they really bust every student in the academy? The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and I look around, expecting that Kyle guy to appear out of the shadows.

“It isn’t like one,” Miranda whispers, biting her lower lip, “it is one.”

We hit the edge of the trees without encountering any of the Bluebloods, and I have to whistle at the shining red beauty of Andrew’s car.

“Holy crap, Andrew,” I whisper, running my hand over the hood. Telling someone you have a red Lamborghini, and actually seeing it in person? Two totally different things. Like, I’m not even into cars, but this one … hot as hell. “What does your family do again?”

He tucks his fingers in his pockets and shrugs his shoulders, crinkling his academy jacket.