The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3)(14)

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.

“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.





I use the next few days to relax, spending my time reading or studying up on next year's assignments. Somehow, doing work on the beach makes it feel less like, well, work. The sun feels good, the sea sings a lulling melody, and I have constant company. As if they can sense how tentative this new situation is, the Idols don't stay long or say too much, not like they did the other day.

I haven't gotten straight answers out of anyone, but I'm enjoying my time with Lizzie, Miranda, Andrew, Zack, and Windsor too much to press. That is, until my last night at the Hamptons.

“I wish you could stay longer,” Miranda says with a sigh, “it's going to be downright boring here without you.”

I give her a smile, and accept her outstretched hug, but I want to be home to spend some time with my dad. He might be doing better, but he's still sick. Cancer is a relentless, awful nightmare. Even when you've beat it, it can slither back in the shadows. Spending time with Charlie is my number one priority.