Home > The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3)(7)

The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3)(7)
Author: C.M. Stunich

My hand tightens on the handle of my beach bag. Inside, there's a brand-new list. I felt like the last one was getting too cluttered, so I started over. I'm not ready to show the Idols this, not yet. But maybe one day.

Closing my eyes briefly, I can see it in my head. Everyone that was on that boat has their name written down all over again. What they did to me … I owe them all a lot more than I gave last year. Vengeance is due in spades.

Revenge On The Bluebloods of Burberry Prep

A list by Marnye Reed

The Girls: Harper du Pont, Becky Platter, and Ileana Taittinger

Their Cronies: Anna Kirkpatrick, Ebony Peterson, Gregory Van Horn, Abigail Fanning, John Hannibal, Valentina Pitt, Sai Patel, Mayleen Zhang, Jalen Donner, Kiara Xiao, and Ben Thresher

The Plebs

Tristan exhales, nostrils flaring, and then takes off down the small rise, dragging me with him. Everyone else follows, a little entourage of bluebloods-that-aren't-technically-Bluebloods, if you know what I mean. Windsor and Zack have the money, the looks, and the popularity to be in the Inner Circle. Hell, they have enough charisma to be Idols. And then there's Miranda and Andrew who used to be Bluebloods, but got kicked out, even though they're more worthy than any other person on that beach. And Lizzie … Lizzie would be a female Idol if she went to Burberry Prep, that's for damn sure. From what Zack tells me, she's the Queen of the Coventry Prep Elite.

The crowd on the beach hushes and goes still as we approach the bonfire together. All eyes are on Tristan as he heads over to one of the logs next to the fire, gestures for me to take a seat, and then leans down in front of me, so close that our mouths nearly touch.

“What can I get you to drink?” he asks as Harper scoffs and makes her way over to us. I'm so focused on Tristan though that I can barely look at her.

“Soda,” I whisper, and when he lifts one brow, I get more specific, “cherry Coke and a cup with ice and a straw?” Tristan leans in close and presses his lips to my cheek, leaving me with this hot, tingling sensation and literally no clue as to what's actually happening here.

Are we friends now?

“Done.” Tristan stands back up and turns, putting himself chest-to-chest with Harper as Zack sits down on one side of me, and Zayd sits down on the other. Double Z-boys. I almost smile, but then I see Greg and John watching me, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. John was undoing his pants. I'm pretty sure he …

“Hey,” Zayd whispers, drawing my attention over to him. “Don't look at those assholes.”

We stare at each other, his lip and eyebrow rings catching the flickering light from the bonfire. He really has a beautiful face, meant for stardom. And that voice … It's no wonder his personal net worth is around twelve million. His dad's net worth is close to four hundred million, but it's Zayd's grandmother, who started a rental car business in the sixties who's worth the most: at around six billion.

“What the fuck, Tristan?” I hear Harper spit out, and even though I'd much rather look at Zayd, I end up turning to glance in that direction. Miranda is right there. Creed, too. Lizzie and Myron as well.

Windsor stands back, sipping from a red plastic cup. How he's managed to get a drink in his hand so fast is just a testament to his party boy skills. He notices me looking at him and gives a dramatic little wink.

Tristan reaches out for Harper's bare shoulder, and then pushes her to the side. Not forcefully or anything, just enough to get her out of the way. He funnels between Ileana and Becky as they gape at him, and the others follow.

“Who invited Coventry Prep?” Becky says, at a volume that's clearly meant to carry. “This is a Burberry party.” She steps in front of Lizzie and gives her a little shove in the chest.

“Don't test me,” Lizzie says, just as loudly. “You saw what happened last year when you tried.”

Becky pushes her again, this time with two hands.

Lizzie stumbles back, and then Tristan's there, hauling Becky up and away, and tossing her to the sand.

“Do not touch my people, Platter,” he says, pointing at her. His face is dead serious. Without having to try, his voice cuts through the murmuring and the whispering. There are Plebs everywhere, watching us. I rise to my feet, sensing violence. Back at Ileana Taittinger's party, when I dumped the cars in the pool, I could see factions forming in the audience. The same thing is happening here.

Tristan versus Harper, King versus Queen.

"If you keep talking, I’ll toss you right out of this limo, and we’ll find out if the Plebs enjoy their queen better … or their king. Don’t test me, Harper.”

Looks like we're about to find out.

“Don't think anything's changed at the academy. I'm still an Idol. Creed, Zayd, and I still have an Inner Circle.” Tristan swings his arm to indicate our little group. “You're looking at them. Hands off.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Ileana squeaks behind him, but he's ignoring her completely. She's a vicious little rat, but that's all she is: vermin. Harper and Becky are the ringleaders, and those boys are their pets. I swallow hard and Zack reaches down to take my hand. As soon as he touches me, I feel warmth surge up my arm and into my chest.

Tristan lifts his head, and I swear to god, it's the cockiest, most arrogant thing I've ever seen, the way he pushes raven-black hair from his face. His gray eyes sparkle as he sneers.

“Burberry Prep has a new queen.”

“Lizzie?” Harper screeches, trying and failing to toss back what's left of her brunette hair. Hah. Go Windsor.

“No,” Tristan says, pointing back at me. “Her.”

“The Working Girl?” Harper blurts, and suddenly, all eyes are on me.

I don't know why, but I stand up.

My heart is pounding so fast that I feel dizzy, but I hold my ground.

“What makes you think you control the academy?” Becky sneers, taking Sai Patel's hand so he can pull her to her feet. The Bluebloods assemble like an army behind the three Idol girls.

“Think?” Tristan echoes, scoffing like Becky's a brainless idiot. I mean, I'm pretty sure she is, but he definitely puts that feeling into his voice in a way I'm not sure I could. “I don't think anything. I am in charge of the academy.”

He turns and starts to walk away when Harper grabs onto his arm, digging her nails into his rounded biceps.

“I haven't told William that we broke up yet,” she says, her voice just this side of pleading. “He doesn't have to know.” I glance over at Lizzie and see that her shoulders have gone completely stiff. She's staring at Tristan with this mix of want and confusion that makes my chest hurt. Maybe … now that he's broken up with Harper, now that he's trying to change his ways, she might want him?

I step forward without meaning to, and both Zayd and Zack stand up behind me.

“I've already told him,” Tristan says, shaking her off. “Stop your groveling. It's pathetic. Nobody here likes you enough to see your vulnerable side and still want to hang out with you. If you want to keep any of your friends, then step down willingly and fade into the background. I have two years left at Burberry to make your life miserable.”

Harper spits in his face, and Tristan scowls, swiping his hand across his face to wipe it off. He keeps walking, heads right over to the refreshments table and gets me the drink that I asked for. While the entire beach watches, he turns back around and delivers it straight to me.

“I won't kiss you with that girl's filth on me, but give me a chance to wash off.” I take the soda, doing my best not to gape, and turn to watch as Tristan heads to the edge of the beach, tears his shirt over his head, kicks off his sandals, and wades in.

The buzzing sound of conversation starts up again, like the chirping of insects, as I turn to Zayd and look at him with a million questions bobbing in my eyes.

“Zayd Kaiser, please explain to me what's happening here,” I whisper as I meet his eyes, and he nods once, briskly.

“I promise I will,” he says, tracing the infinity symbol tattoo over the fabric of his shirt. “Just not here. Before you leave the Hamptons, okay?”

I exhale and take a sip of my soda, but I'm already nodding.

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.

   
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