Revenge On The Bluebloods of Burberry Prep
A list by Miranda Cabot Marnye ReedThe Idols (guys): Tristan Vanderbilt (year one two), Zayd Kaiser (year one two), and Creed Cabot (year one two)The Idols (girls): Harper du Pont (year one two), Becky Platter (year one two), and Gena Whitley (year four) (graduated), Ileana Taittinger (year one)The Inner Circle: Andrew Payson, Anna Kirkpatrick, Myron Talbot, Ebony Peterson, Gregory Van Horn, Abigail Fanning, John Hannibal, Valentina Pitt, Sai Patel, Mayleen Zhang, Jalen Donner … and, I guess, me! Kiara Xiao, Ben ThresherPlebs: everyone else, sorry. XOXOZack Brooks
Lizzie WaltonSai Patel is doing it with Abigail Fanning, who’s supposed to be dating Gregory Van Horn; I emailed proof to the entire Blueblood court. And because I hate Greg so much, I’ve doubled up and sent Andrew’s bullying video to Creed. I’ve already crossed his and John’s names off because, well, they’re not going to last the night.
They’ve almost made it too easy for me.
“And here I was expecting tonight to be boring,” Windsor declares, his grin so bright that he stands out like a white splotch in the darkness. The bonfire is roaring, and there are people drinking and dancing, but the majority of the attention falls on Greg, Sai, and Abigail. There’s a lot of crying, begging, pleading, and so on and so forth. It’s actually pretty boring, after what happened with Jalen, Ebony, and Tristan. Been there, seen this. Besides, once a cheater, always a cheater. Frankly, I’m shocked that Greg took Abigail back after Tristan outed her for sleeping with him last year.
“What is this?” Creed asks as he moves up beside us, holding out his phone. His half-lidded gaze falls on Windsor as the prince’s grin slides away and something much more predatory takes its place. “Payson?”
“I don’t answer to you anymore,” Andrew says wearily, exhaling heavily. But he knows I sent the video. I made sure to ask because, you know, No Friendly Fire. “But what’s it look like, man?”
“Are they bothering you, too?” Creed asks, turning to his sister. I hate to admit it, but he looks hot as hell in a black button-down and jeans. His outfit’s wrinkled just enough to give off that devil-may-care attitude of his.
Miranda turns up her nose at her brother, hooks her arm with Jessie’s, and drags her through the crowd toward the keg. When Creed turns to me, Zack steps forward and pushes me slightly behind him. The move is protective, and sort of adorable, but also … I can take care of myself. I step up beside him as Windsor whistles under his breath.
“Back off, Brooks,” Creed says, his voice so sharp it gives me whiplash. He is not in the mood to take shit tonight. He looks back at me, his ice-blue eyes catching the orange light from the fire. When he flips some of that white-blonde hair off his forehead, my heart does somersaults and I tell it quite firmly to sit still and forget about Creed Cabot. “Are they picking on my sister?” he demands, but I simply cross my arms over my chest.
“Does it matter? You told them to knock their homophobic bullshit off, and they keep doing it. Doesn’t that undermine your authority as an Idol?” I shrug my shoulders loosely, but then I remind myself: the most important part of your plan starts here. Taking a step forward, I put my hand on Creed’s shoulder and his entire body goes stiff.
Our eyes meet, and I have to swallow three times before I remember how to speak. For a split-second there, I wish I could close my eyes and transport back in time to the winter formal.
“Is that a yes or a no?” he says, his voice this debonair blasé that actually makes my heart flutter. Even though his eyes are barely open, and his body looks boneless and exhausted with boredom, he also looks like he’s about to kill someone. It’s there in the way his long fingers tighten around his phone. Since the people he’s about to kill are John and Greg, I’m all for it.
“It’s an I can’t betray your sister’s trust ever again, Creed,” I say, but that’s pretty much a copout answer because when Andrew first showed us the video, Miranda’s face got tight and she looked at Jessie like she’d give anything to protect her. It’s not Miranda that’s being picked on: it’s her girlfriend.
He nods his chin briskly, like he respects my answer at least a little bit.
When he turns and heads over to the fight, Sai is bleeding, Abigail has disappeared into the woods with Ebony—guess cheaters of a feather flock together—and I take up position on a fallen log to watch the show.
“This is massively entertaining,” Windsor whispers as he passes by me, his daffodil and polish scent drifting in the air as he pauses next to the drink table and starts mixing cocktails like a damn bartender. When he offers one to me, I refuse.
