“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.
“One step at a time,” Tristan says, staring over my shoulder at the Bluebloods. “One step at a time.” He pushes past Windsor and takes a seat in front of the fire, leaning back against the log for support. “First we win over the Plebs.”
Windsor watches this exchange, and then bites into a peach. I'm not sure where he got it from, but he looks bemused as he smiles at me with juice running down his chin, and then starts off down the beach like he's taking a stroll.
Even though I promised myself I wouldn't put my trust in anyone, Windsor is certainly winning me over. I let him go, and I don't think too hard about it, focusing instead on Miranda and Andrew. She drags him over, pushing past her brother for a spot next to me.
“This is so crazy. Makes last summer look like a breeze,” Miranda whispers, eating the gossip up with a spoon.
“This is dangerous,” Andrew hedges, but I can see him watching Windsor as the prince takes off down the beach. Pretty sure he has a crush on him. Everyone does, even Miranda, so I'm not surprised. “If they were that bad at the lake, how are they going to react after being insulted and rejected? Shit.” Andrew curses under his breath and bites his lip, looking down at the sopping wet form of Tristan Vanderbilt. “I hope you know this is going to bleed over into the Club.”
“I'm well-aware,” Tristan says, staring into the fire. He may as well be a thousand miles away. He's clearly not present right now. Andrew shakes his head and sighs.
Lizzie gets herself a drink and comes back to sit in the sand in front of me, holding her beer between her legs. Her amber eyes flick to Tristan for a second before moving back to my face.
“Don't worry, Marnye, we've got you,” she says, giving an almost shy sort of smile. Part of me wants to hate her for what she did, for making that bet with Zack. But I don't. She seems so genuine … I know I have to be ready for betrayal at any moment, from any corner, but I don't want to believe that about Lizzie. People make mistakes. It's whether or not they learn from them that really matters.
“Easy for you to say,” Miranda says, lifting her chin and sniffing derisively. “Safe over there at Coventry Prep.”
Lizzie's mouth pops open in surprise, and she blinks several times before answering.
“Didn't Tristan tell you?” she asks, and I shake my head. Tell me? Tell me what? “I'm transferring to Burberry next year!”
She sounds so excited about it that I smile, but inside, I'm churning.
Tristan is staring at me, studying me, but I don't let on anything.
Not even to myself.I use the next few days to relax, spending my time reading or studying up on next year's assignments. Somehow, doing work on the beach makes it feel less like, well, work. The sun feels good, the sea sings a lulling melody, and I have constant company. As if they can sense how tentative this new situation is, the Idols don't stay long or say too much, not like they did the other day.
I haven't gotten straight answers out of anyone, but I'm enjoying my time with Lizzie, Miranda, Andrew, Zack, and Windsor too much to press. That is, until my last night at the Hamptons.
“I wish you could stay longer,” Miranda says with a sigh, “it's going to be downright boring here without you.”
I give her a smile, and accept her outstretched hug, but I want to be home to spend some time with my dad. He might be doing better, but he's still sick. Cancer is a relentless, awful nightmare. Even when you've beat it, it can slither back in the shadows. Spending time with Charlie is my number one priority.
Besides, I think I might have a heart attack if I were to stay here the rest of the summer.
“Hey, I'm not leaving until tomorrow,” I say as Miranda pulls back and sighs, brushing some rose-gold hair from my face. Before third year starts, I'll get it cut and dyed again. I'm pretty fond of the color and style now. Isn't that nice, how a nightmare can sometimes turn into a dream?
