“Zack’s been helping out around the house,” Dad says as I glance back and find that Zayd’s disappeared. Good. The last thing I need is him eavesdropping on our conversation. God knows what sort of crap the Idols would pull out after hearing his. “He’s been helping me stay sober, too.”
Biting my lower lip, I nod, looking Dad’s outfit over. He didn’t pick those black slacks and white button-up on his own. Zack’s family owns a series of shops catering to wedding attire, a few bridal shops, some tailors, a tuxedo rental place. I used to think the Brooks family was rich. Compared to the students here, he’s as poor as I am.
“Well, I’m glad you’re both here,” I say hesitantly, trying to ignore the way Zack’s brown eyes take in my uniform. He’s clearly appreciative, and I don’t know how to feel about that. We dated for six months, but that was in middle school. That means less than nothing in the scheme of things. “Come on, we can make the morning tour.”
I take my dad’s arm and lead him up the steps, Zack trailing behind us. He whistles as we walk past the fountain and down the path toward the chapel.
“Nice place you got here,” Zack says, his voice sending ripples of goose bumps across my skin. Dad holds open the stained glass doors for us both and our arms brush, making me swallow hard.
“Nice to look at,” I mumble, and while Dad misses that statement, Zack definitely hears. The way he looks at me, I know he’s thinking about the pranks, the fights, the constant torture. At first, he was the one that started it all, but then we started dating and …
No. No, Marnye, we’re not reliving old memories. Burberry Prep is supposed to be a fresh start.
“The teachers are posting grades today,” I say with a small sigh. “I know I’ve done well, but the competition here is fierce. I’ve never been a part of anything like it.”
“They post grades publicly?” Zack asks, his dark eyebrows rising up in surprise. “Sounds like a recipe for disaster.” I shrug my shoulders, but I know he’s right. Whatever my ranking, I’m going to be destroyed for it. I’ve already tried to prepare myself.
“Marnye!” Miranda shouts, waving her arms wildly. I’m happy to see her, but my chest gets tight when I notice Creed close behind. Fortunately, his mother, Kathleen Cabot, the founder of the Cabot Scholarship Award program is right there with him. She smiles at me, too, and the knot loosens up a bit. “Marnye,” Miranda gasps out, panting as she wraps her fingers around my upper arm. She starts to open her mouth to say something and pauses, looking past my dad and straight to Zack. “Oh. Who’s this?” She blinks those long lashes of hers as I chew on my lip in nervousness.
“Miranda, this is my dad, Charlie, and my … our family friend, Zack Brooks.”
“Well hello, Zack Brooks,” she says, flashing that winning smile. “And Mr. Reed, lovely to meet you.” She holds out her hand and shakes with both men as her mother and brother make their way over to us. Creed hangs back, but I notice his eyes taking in Zack with disdain. When I glance over my shoulder, I find my ex staring with narrowed eyes. I’ve seen Zack destroy stronger people than Creed Cabot with nothing but words. I used to think he was a monster.
“What were you going to say?” I whisper after I greet Kathleen with a hug, and her and my dad start up a conversation about the Burberry Prep campus. “You were practically panting when you ran over here.” Miranda’s blue eyes light up, turning them into sapphires. There’s so much warmth there; I can hardly imagine Creed’s eyes doing the same. Nope. Hell’s more likely to freeze over.
“Right,” she says, grinning at me. I notice her skirt’s not rolled up at the hem today, hitting her at the knees instead of mid-thigh. “Grades were posted just after breakfast.” I raise an eyebrow, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “And Marnye, you won’t believe it.”
“Believe what?” I ask as Creed and Zack continue to stare each other down. Honestly, they’re both assholes. They’d probably make great friends. Then again, I get the feeling that Creed, Zayd, and Tristan don’t much like each other. Birds of a feather flock together until the cat comes, huh? “Stop being cryptic and just tell me.”
“Dude,” she gushes, and it’s the first time she’s ever called me that, so I grin, “you’re number one.” My mouth drops open, and all the blood rushes from my face to my feet.
“What?”
“You’re number one, out of the whole first year class.”
“You’re kidding me,” I choke out, feeling the first wave of dread hit me. Creed’s just switched his attention to me, and I can see hatred burning deep in his gaze.
“First?” Dad echoes, putting a hand on my shoulder and making me jump. “Marnye, that’s incredible.”
“I knew we picked the right girl,” Kathleen says, her red hair curling and falling in a graceful wave over her shoulders. She has the same blue eyes as her kids, the same warm smile as Miranda. “Congratulations, Marnye, you’re off to an incredible start.”
An incredible start that’s going to get me killed, I think, looking back at Creed again. But he’s already turned away to flirt with some girl in a second-year uniform. There’s no better way to light a fire under a bully’s ass than to outdo them at their own game. Me being first in academics only spells trouble.
“Thanks everyone,” I force out with a smile. Zack catches my eye, and I look away. We didn’t exactly part as friends, although Dad doesn’t know that. I’m not about to spill my fears to either of them. “Should we get going?”
I notice the tour starting down the hall, and wave our little group along to join it.
Because I’m lost in my thoughts, I lag just slightly behind, and feel a shiver overtake me just before a palm slams into the wall in front of my face. I glance over and find Tristan with his blade gray eyes starting me down.
“You little bitch,” he growls out, the vehemence in his voice thick and unmistakable. “What’d you do? Fuck your way to straight As?” My cheeks flush, and I curl my hands into fists.
“I studied, Tristan. Maybe if you spent less time drinking and sleeping with random girls, you could succeed, too.” He hits the wall with his palm again, and I jump. There’s so much tension in his body that even in a hall full of people, I’m afraid.
“This little Mary Sue act of yours is getting old,” he snarls, pushing off of the wall and looking me up and down with a sneer that, unfortunately, does nothing to mar the handsome features of his face. “If you’ve got skeletons in your closet, you might want to make sure they’re buried. Because I’m going to destroy you.”
“Marnye, are you okay?” Zack asks, appearing on my left side. The way he looks at Tristan makes me wonder if they’ve met each other before. Something flashes across Tristan’s face before he smirks.
“Brooks. I’m surprised to see you here. Didn’t you get rejected? Even your family’s money wasn’t enough to get Burberry Prep to take your loser ass.” Tristan’s anger subsides slightly, replaced with haughty arrogance. He lifts his chin and smiles, reaching up to brush dark hair from his brow. “Or are you sleeping with Charity, too? Even with her looks, it seems she has plenty of customers.”
“Charity?” Zack laughs, that dry, dark, scary sound that used to make me tremble. “Do you think you’re clever, Vanderbilt? Don’t forget that I’ve kicked your ass more than once, and I’m happy to do it again.”
“So you are fucking her?” Tristan continues, his silver gaze sliding back to me. He seems excited to have unearthed this scandalous bit of news. Too bad for him that I’m a virgin. There’s no skeleton to dig up here. I’m not sure what Zack means about kicking Tristan’s ass, but it’s clear these two do know each other. Still, Tristan doesn’t fazed by Zack’s presence, not at all. “Where did the two of you meet? At that ghetto school of yours?”
“Save it for fall break, dickhead,” Zack snaps, and my brows wrinkle up. When he reaches down for my wrist, I jerk from his grasp, and we end up staring at each other. Family friend my dad might call him, but he was never a friend of mine. Zack’s eyes narrow, but he turns and heads down the hallway where Miranda’s waiting, watching and listening to the verbal scuffle between the boys with her mouth hanging open.
“Enjoy your tour, Charity,” Tristan schmoozes, lifting a cocky brow. “Because you won’t be around much longer.”
The next morning, we have class as usual. The only difference is that the families are allowed to hang around and observe. Most do, but I notice that Zayd’s dad still isn’t here. I guess he’s not coming at all. The asshole acts like it doesn’t bother him, hitting on girls, and letting out that raucous laugh of his, as usual. I wonder though if it’s all a front to cover up the pain. I know all about that.
Zack sits beside me during the morning announcements, but Charlie’s nowhere to be seen. I know the parents were being housed in the cabins (think glamping style cabins) out by the lake, and being driven in at their leisure. But when I ask Zack where my dad is, he just shrugs his big shoulders and refuses to look at me.
By the time we get to our mixed media class, I’m already starting to sweat. Not only is Dad still missing, but today we’re focusing on music, getting a feel for everyone’s talents, and starting the auditions for the school orchestra. I figure I probably don’t have much competition considering I play the harp. It’s kind of a rare instrument. Good thing, too, since there’s usually only one spot for a harpist.
“Everyone take a seat,” Mr. Carter says, taking control of the class for the day. He’s the conductor for the Burberry Preparatory Academy Orchestra, and the one I need to impress most this week. “Today we’ll be getting a feel for the type of music and instruments each student is interested in.”