The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3)(4)
I open my mouth, but no words will come out.
A loud knock interrupts us all, and the sound of a door being thrown open is followed by Miranda's voice calling out.
“Marnye?”
“In here,” I reply, holding my breath until she rounds the corner to my room, face flushed, floral skirt flying. Miranda has her phone clutched in one hand, a purse strung over the opposite shoulder, and a glare laser-focused on her twin.
Creed stares back at her and narrows his ice-blue eyes to slits before she turns away and throws a smile in my dad's direction.
“Hello, Mr. Reed, sorry I'm late.” She grins, and I grimace. Her attempted cover-up is a little too peppy and excited. “I love your new home, by the way.” Dad smiles at her, but he's still not happy with me, tucking his fingers into his overalls pockets and glancing my way again.
“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 School 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.”