Home > The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3)(11)

The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3)(11)
Author: C.M. Stunich

“You guys know the Bayside Bed and Breakfast is haunted, right?” I ask. “And besides that, their continental breakfast consists of oranges in a bowl, and cold cereal. There’s no valet, no turndown service, and they definitely have not perfected the art of ass kissing.”

“So we discovered yesterday,” Tristan says, gray eyes sliding to one side. His arms are crossed tight over his chest, and even though I’m no psychologist, there’s something about his stance that says guarded, closed-off, unavailable. I wonder if he’s doing it on purpose? “The ceiling in my bathroom drips, and there’s no room service.”

“Grenadine Heights might be an exclusive neighborhood, but overall, Cruz Bay is laid back, and very West Coast casual. Sorry, guys.” I grin as Windsor releases me, and I turn to see Zack, watching us with a brand-new red and black varsity jacket on his shoulders.

“They let you back on the team?” I ask, and he nods, grimacing slightly.

“Honestly, it’s kind of bullshit that they forgave me so easily,” he starts, but then I’m sliding my arms around his trim waist, and he’s enveloping me in a hug that makes me sweat buckets. I feel all swoon-y and weird around him in a way I never have before.

Dad grumbles something under his breath, and disappears into the dining area to order a root beer float. He’s trying to give me some privacy with my friends, which I appreciate, but every now and then his eyes flick our direction.

“Win some for Burberry Prep this year, okay?” I say, because once I took my revenge, and crossed his name off my list, I was done. There’s no point in beating a dead horse, and I trust that Zack’s learned a lesson he’ll never forget. I didn’t take revenge so I could gloat about it, or roll around in the blood of my enemies the way Harper might. And now that it’s over—with these guys anyway—I’m ready to start down the path of forgiveness.

Ask anyone: forgiveness is a much harder path than revenge.

That much I know for sure, because seconds later, the door opens and in walks Jennifer with a cluster of balloons in hand.

My heart turns to ice, plummets into my belly, and shatters into shards.

I feel sick.

“Hi …” Miranda starts, looking totally unsure. But then she glances back at me, sees my face, and she knows: this is my mother. She knows all the stories, too, about the cheating and the rest stop and the sister I’ve never met.

“Marnye,” Jennifer begins, making her way over to us in a party dress almost as fancy and flouncy as my own. “I brought you something.” She weaves her way between my friends without acknowledging them. That is, until she spots Windsor York. “Oh. Oh my god. Your majesty.” She blurts the words, and my face turns beet red. I’m probably hot to the touch, too.

Jennifer turns to me with this look of pure glee on her face, like somehow my being friends with British royalty reflects on her in a positive way. To be honest, I’ve never felt more alien around anyone in my life the way I do around Jennifer. She’s a stranger in the worst kind of way. I mean, she’s my mother, one of the people in this world who are supposed to be closer to me than anyone, and yet, she’s as far away from me as a random woman off the street.

“What are you doing here?” I ask as Dad comes around the edge of the glass wall, and gives her a look of surprise. I can tell by the expression on his face that he didn’t invite her either. He wouldn’t do that to me, not without asking.

“Well, it came up in passing conversation with your father that you might be here today …” Jennifer trails off, her blond hair coiffed on the top of her head like a princess, all braided with glittering silver thread and tiny pearl beads.

“I did not invite you, Jenn,” Charlie says, his face this strange mix of empathy and frustration.

I feel so weird, having this moment with the Idols on one side of me, Zack and Windsor on the other, and my new friends fanned out behind my mother with matching expressions of sympathy.

“I just came to give my baby girl some balloons,” Jennifer says, passing over the bobbing bundle. Her eyes skim past me and come to land on Zayd. Her red painted mouth pops open in surprise. “You’re Billy Kaiser’s son, aren’t you?”

“The one and only,” Zayd says, but he sounds slightly irritated. When I glance back at him, I can see he’s studying my mood. He knows what it’s like to have an absentee parent, too.

“You’ve certainly done well at the academy, all these nice friends,” Jennifer says, sounding a little breathless as her blue eyes take in Tristan and Creed before turning back to me. “Which one’s your boyfriend?”

Forgiveness is a virtue, I tell myself as I stare into my mother’s face. I try to make myself smile, but my lips remain flat. All I can think about is sitting in the rain, crying, watching cars come in and out of the parking lot while I hid beneath the thick limbs of a tree.

Jennifer left me at a rest stop because her new boyfriend didn’t like my crying.

“I haven’t decided yet.” The words just come out like that, flat and uninterested. Almost bored. Jennifer stares at me, and I stare right back. “Maybe I’ll have them all?” She laughs, a little nervously, but it falls flat, and the room is completely silent. “Thanks for the balloons.” Miranda creeps closer, like she can sense I need support, and I hand the helium-filled bouquet over to her. “Have a root beer float or something and stay awhile.”

I turn away, my face flushed, my hands shaking, and I end up looking right at Tristan.

He stares down at me like he’s confused and doesn’t know what to do with me.

“This is the part where you say happy birthday,” I whisper, and something in that hard expression of his softens slightly.

“Happy birthday. I know what it’s like to have a shitty parent; don’t let them rain on your parade.”

“Excuse you, young man,” Jennifer says, but I’m smiling and ignoring her. I can hear Charlie mumble as he drags her away toward the dining area.

Tristan reaches into his pocket, and comes out with that damn necklace again. That same fucking necklace. He lifts it up in question, and I turn, letting him hook it around my neck. As he leans in, his lips brush my ear, and I shiver.

“I meant what I said when I went through those cards: yours was the only one I didn’t hate.” He hooks the clasp, and lets go, stepping back as I reach up to play with the double roses. The journey of this necklace reminds me of my relationship with Tristan, this strange back and forth that makes my mouth dry, my chest ache. When I look at him, I yearn.

Yearn.

I just said yearn.

Before I can think too hard about that, I turn to Zayd, ignoring Lizzie’s amber gaze on me. Part of me wonders if I should give the necklace back yet again, surrender Tristan to Lizzie’s embrace. She really seems interested in him …

“Did I fool you, by giving you the earrings early?” Zayd asks, grinning at me as he twists his now bright orange hair into little gelled spikes. The color is so vibrant and crazy, but it suits him. Hell, I’m not sure there’s a color in the world that wouldn’t suit him.

“Oh, I was so fooled,” I say, giving him a hug, too. The way he makes me feel, the way they all make me feel … Third year at Burberry Prep is going to be a hormonal mess. I just know it. Zayd holds me for a long time, longer than most friends would, and Miranda clears her throat rudely next to us.

We separate, and my eyes lock immediately with Creed’s icy blue ones.

“Marnye.” He both looks and sounds a little … pissed off. “Happy seventeenth.”

“I started to think about you … as mine.”

I wet my suddenly dry lips and try to decide if a hug is in order. I didn’t hug Tristan, but I hugged everybody else. Creed and I just stare at each other. Finally, because I just can’t take the freaking tension, I throw my arms around him and give a big squeeze. I let go before he gets a chance to return the gesture, and find that his normally droopy bedroom eyes have widened to blue saucers.

“Let’s start the fun and games!” I choke out, far too cheerfully to be believed by anyone, and then nearly break my ankle on my way down the steps. Zack steadies me with a big, warm hand on my shoulder, and we all fan out on the bench seat while Miranda and Andrew plug in everyone’s name. One of the employees comes over to take our drink orders, and I end up with a chocolate milkshake covered in rainbow sprinkles and way too many maraschino cherries.

There’s a bit of awkwardness as we all settle in together. We’re not exactly the best of friends, and this is a major adjustment.

I’m essentially hanging out with four of my bullies. Five, if you count Lizzie for making that bet.

“Why don’t you guys make an Infinity Club bet over bowling?” I joke, and I swear, everyone’s head whips right over to me. “Not an appropriate joke, huh?” I chuckle, but I’m the only one. “I could tell you about the history of this building? How it was built in 1892 as a brothel, funded by a rich railroad baron because he thought if the miners coming in for the gold rush had female company, they’d be less violent …”

“You can make jokes about the Infinity Club if you want,” Zack says fiercely, watching as I sip my milkshake from the red and white striped straw. “You were hurt by it the most. And I already told you: it’s sexy as hell when you talk historical facts.” He grins at me, and then whips his varsity jacket off his broad shoulders, settling the skin-warmed fabric over mine.

My heart twists into a knot, and then dies from all the feels.

My cheeks flush red as I reach up to pinch the coat closed around me, feeling like a teen from the fifties or something, drinking a milkshake from the soda fountain and wearing her boyfriend’s varsity jacket in the bowling alley.

Not that Zack’s my boyfriend or anything.

I mean, he hasn’t asked.

And even if he did, I don’t know if I’d say yes.

   
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