“No, you won forty thousand dollars, fair and square,” Creed says, dropping his hand into his lap. His blue eyes are so intense, I want to look away, but I feel like I’m losing something if I do. We end up just staring at each other. “Besides, my mother wipes her ass with that amount of money. It’s not exactly going to break our banks.”
He pulls his phone from his pocket and frowns at a text message.
I’m too caught up on the idea of having that much money to even notice. My dad could use the money to put down on a house. Or, selfishly, I think about keeping it for college. How amazing would that be? I’d always assumed scholarships and loans would be there to help me make ends meet, but this money could really be life-changing.
“Excuse me,” Creed says, standing up and giving Zayd a look.
Tristan watches with narrowed eyes as Zayd follows after, heading down the stairs. A few seconds later, and there’s the sound of a car coming up the driveway.
“Guess we’re taking a break?” I start, but Tristan isn’t looking at me, or even listening. Instead, he’s staring out the window like he’s seen a ghost, his face going white, hands curling into fists. He shoves up from his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process, and makes his way downstairs.
“What’s going on?” I ask as Zack moves over to look out the window. Whatever he sees there makes his face tighten up. “Zack?”
“Tristan’s ex is here.” He glances back at me, his mouth turned down in a sharp frown. “Lizzie Walton.”
“You know her?” I ask, and Zack shrugs his massive shoulders.
“We’re going to Coventry Prep together.” My brows go up. I’d just sort of assumed Zack would be moving onto LBH.
“You got into Coventry?” I ask, and he shrugs again, moving away from the window and heading downstairs. Since I don’t know anybody else here, I end up tagging along yet again. What I come down to is a tense, uncomfortable scene. Nothing’s being said, but there’s a palpable tension in the air.
Tristan is staring at Lizzie, eyes narrowed, while she stands next to some tall guy with light brown hair and eyes to match. He’s got a cocky swagger that immediately puts me on edge. Unsurprising since every other cocky guy here is a nightmare to deal with.
“Lizzie,” Tristan says, and she smiles. She’s got a soft, sweet smile, too. For some reason, I get this jittery feeling in my stomach, and clamp a hand over my belly. Zack notices and raises his brows, but I’m not really sure what’s bothering me, so I drop my hand to my side.
“Tristan,” Lizzie replies, her amber eyes crinkling. She separates from the tall guy with the brown hair, and I notice his eyes following her across the room. To my chagrin, she makes her way right to me. “You’re not a member of the Infinity Club, are you?” she asks, but not like it’s a bad thing, more like she’s hopeful. Infinity Club. What the hell is it anyway?
“Definitely not,” I reply, and her chest deflates as she exhales. Lizzie hooks her arm through mine, her bouncy black curls falling around her face as she smiles.
“Get a drink with me?” And then she drags me toward the kitchen, and the tension breaks. I can feel Tristan watching us though, his silver gaze cutting across the room and boring into me. Lizzie ignores him, filling a glass with ice and soda, and then offering it to me. I take it gratefully, feeling a small smile bloom on my face. “Lizzie Walton.” She points to her chest.
“Marnye Reed,” I reply, pausing as one of the guys brings over a stack of fresh pizzas and stacks the white cardboard boxes on the counter. There’s a rush for food, but I notice that a small bubble of space is left around Lizzie and me. Considering I’m a nobody here, I have to wonder who this girl really is.
“Are you here with Tristan?” she asks, but not like she’s being judgmental, just curious.
“Not really,” I say, snatching a piece of cheese pizza and dropping it onto a paper plate. I hold this out to Lizzie, and she takes it with a bright grin. As soon as there’s a break in the pizza hungry hands of the boys, I snatch another. “I mean, he drove me up here with Zayd and Creed but—”
“Zayd Kaiser and Creed Cabot?” Lizzie asks, eyes gleaming with interest. “So you go to Burberry Prep?”
“I won a scholarship,” I start, waiting for her expression to change. It doesn’t. Actually, she seems more interested in me now. She’s wearing a peach-colored t-shirt and jeans, a totally unassuming outfit, but I can tell every piece on this girl is expensive.
