Stuck With The Four Hotties

By the time Parents’ Week rolls around again, the Idols have made their decision: they’ve welcomed Ileana Taittinger into their ranks, promoted Kiara Xiao into the Inner Circle to take Miranda’s place, and reluctantly chosen a fourth year named Ben Thresher to replace Andrew.

Their circle of arrogance, assholery, and privilege is once again complete.

The bullying has amped up again, too. We’re back to condoms in my locker, stickers on my door, bags of dog shit on my welcome mat. But it’s difficult for them to hit back at me where it counts, not with the heightened security on campus. They’re going to have to try harder if they want to match me blow for blow.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” I tell Miranda on Sunday, staring at my phone and hating the butterflies in my stomach. Dad is coming back to the academy. This freaking academy where I was humiliated beyond belief. I hate that he had to see me like that; it kills me inside. Plus … if I said I wasn’t still ashamed that he got drunk last time he was here, that would be a lie.

I’m nervous. I’m terrified.

If the Idols wanted to find my weak spot, well, Charlie is it. Charlie is my beating heart, and if they do a damn thing to hurt him, I swear I’ll kill them all. Closing my eyes, I exhale and then open them to find Miranda staring at me.

“Doesn’t feel right, how?” she asks, lounging in a baggy pink sweater that looks worn and comfy but which I’m pretty sure is cashmere and costs like two hundred bucks. “Classes? Parents’ Week? Cheerleading?” She grins at that last one. Miranda is beyond thrilled that I’m on the team with her girlfriend, Jessie. Well, I think they’re dating anyway. Miranda’s been pretty wishy-washy about it.

“The Bluebloods are too subdued,” I say, sitting down on the end of my bed with a sigh. “I’m throwing everything I have at them, and they’re just … sitting there. It’s creepy, and it’s making me nervous, and I’m starting to think they’re planning something big.” Miranda puts her phone down and pinches her lips tight.

“I’m not going to say you’re wrong …” she starts, and then grimaces. “I mean, there’s a good chance you’re dead-on with your assessment. They’ve been quiet, but when they hit you, it’s going to hurt.” I nod. Pretty much what I expected. Actually, I expected worse. It’s a strange form of psychological terror knowing they’re holding back on me.

“How’s Creed been doing?” I ask, trying to sound super casual. In reality, I want to hear that he’s suffering, that he felt he made a mistake, that he-

“Dating that awful Valentina girl,” Miranda spits, practically choking on the words. She tucks some blond hair behind her ear. “He stole her from John Hannibal, but only because it was a game. He doesn’t like her.”

“That doesn’t seem to matter much around here,” I murmur, touching a finger to the ice-blue dress in my closet, the one Creed sent me for the graduation gala, the dance where I definitely did not choose him. Thinking about it now, I wonder if I made a mistake, if I should’ve refused to pick between the boys and- Groaning, I lean my forehead against the door of the wardrobe. Really? I’m concerned about Creed’s and Tristan’s feelings now, after everything? How they felt when I walked in that room holding Zayd’s hand is freaking irrelevant.

I slam the wardrobe closed and turn around.

“Is she the prettiest? Does she have the most money? Is her family name old and well-established? Can her parents’ company get something from your parents’ company, or vice versa? Because those all seem to be more important reasons than love or even like when it comes to marrying for the super-rich.”

“Probably something to do with the stupid Club,” Miranda scoffs, flicking her finger across her phone screen. Pretty sure she’s on Tinder, scoping out

girls. Now that we’re both cool with her coming out, she’s been obsessing over girls the way I obsessed over the Idol boys last year. I wonder if I was that sappy and hormone ridden? Yep, yep, I definitely was. “My dad actually wants me to join it. My mom says no way.” She glances up and lets a soft smile fall across her lips. “You know, she’s excited to see you tomorrow.”

I grimace and turn away. I will never forget Kathleen Cabot’s face on that awful day, the way she looked at her son, like he was the scum of the earth, the way she fell on her knees in the principal’s office and cried while apologizing to me. According to Kathleen, I was her student, her responsibility, so how could she let this happen? I don’t blame her at all, but I know she blames herself.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Yeah, I’m excited to see her, too …” I trail off and check my phone, tapping my thumb against the side. A whole year ago, Zack appeared from the back of that academy car, climbing out behind my dad. He helped him when he was drunk, and he told me … “Your dad got some news last night.” An entire year later, and I still don’t know what that news is, and Dad’s acting weirder than ever. He’s still trying to force a relationship with Jennifer, and he gave me Grandma’s bracelet with his wedding band on it … I don’t like it, not any of it.

I tap out a quick message to Zack: Meet me in The Mess.

He responds almost instantly: Already there. Join me?

“Hey,” I say suddenly, lifting my gaze up to meet Miranda’s blue one. “I’m going to go talk to Zack in The Mess for a while. Are you okay in here?”

“I’ll hang out and wait for you,” she says, leaning back into my pillows and making herself comfy. I grab a sweater and leave her there, knowing that the cameras will catch any suspicious activity. I want with all my heart to believe Miranda’s innocent in everything that’s gone on here at Burberry Prep, but I don’t think I can know that for sure, not just yet. If she does nothing while I’m gone, that’ll help go a long way towards easing my distrust.

I make my way through the halls as quick as I can. As much as I’m ready to stand up to the Bluebloods, I can’t fight off a dozen people by myself. Fortunately, I manage to slip into the dining hall without anyone seeing me.