I should’ve known better.
The crowd parts to let the Bluebloods through, and we all gather around to stare at the list.
There I am.
Valedictorian.
I glance over at Tristan to see if he’s pissed, but he’s actually … smiling?! Like, it’s a real smile, true and genuine.
“I’ve never been so happy to lose in all my life,” he says, and then I throw my arms around him and kiss him. Not just him either, but all of them. Windsor, Zayd, Creed, Zack.
“I feel like I should make us a round of—”
“Don’t say it,” Creed interrupts, putting two fingers to his temple. “Nobody wants your boiled plant water.”
“I was going to say cocktails, but since you just insulted the national beverage of my homeland, I should kick your ass before I serve them.” Windsor glances over at me, and flashes a blinding grin. “A mocktail for you, Milady, since I can’t exactly serve you a virgin drink anymore.”
“Hilarious,” I drawl with a roll of my eyes, but I let him take my hand anyway and pull me through the crowd. In typical Burberry Prep fashion, there’s a party tonight, but it’s not one of ours. Actually, it’s being thrown by some very promising first years.
We attend as a group: me, my boys, Miranda, and Andrew.
I’m so pleased with the party itself, and the general camaraderie of the students, I give one of the girls my light-up star scepter.
“Have fun being an Idol,” I whisper as I turn and walk away, the entire crowd pausing in their reverie to watch my little group as we make our way out of the party, wearing our all-black fourth year uniforms for the very last time.
I’ve just passed the crown, and it feels damn good, like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders.
Tomorrow, I’ll get to see Charlie.
Tomorrow, I can give my speech, exact my revenge, and once midnight hits, I’ll be like Cinderella at the ball. Instead of losing my magic however, I’ll walk away from the clutches of the Infinity Club with my life.
I put my hand over my slashed-out infinity tattoo, climb behind the wheel of the Maserati, and head back to campus.
All five guys spend the night in my room, and we aren’t exactly wearing clothes.
They don’t touch each other, but they let me touch them, one by one, working my way through until I’m sweaty and exhausted and falling asleep in a pile I never want to leave.
Never.The last day of school comes much quicker than I anticipated, leaving me in this whirlwind where I’m always in a rush from one thing to another, whether it’s project or an orchestra performance or a scholarship deadline. It feels like I might never breathe again.
Until … I do.
Everything comes to a stop, but not like the storm has passed, more like I’m in the eye of it.
“You look way hotter in your graduation gown than I do,” Miranda whines, adjusting her glorious blond hair around her face and proving that that is most definitely not true. She looks beautiful, like she always does. In another time or another place, we’d probably be soulmates.
Yep.
I’d definitely add her to my harem.
Speaking of harems … My heart beats wildly in my chest as I sit down on the edge of my bed and think about the decision I made last week. It’s been haunting me ever since, but I know in my heart it’s the right one. During first year, when I got those three boxes filled with glittering dresses, I chose one. And I wished I hadn’t. Not because Zayd was the wrong choice, but because Creed and Tristan were just as right.
My choice now remains the same: I either pick all of them … or I pick none of them.
That’s what I’ve decided, although both avenues might lead me to the same place. They might say hell to it, and walk away, but at least that’d be their choice.
“Are you okay?” Miranda asks as Andrew comes out of the bathroom, putting his cap on and examining himself in the mirror. He’s too excited about his trip to Connecticut tomorrow to be thinking much about anything else. He’s off to meet his email pen pal which I’m still not sure is a good idea. I did stalk the dude, some guy named Ross from Adamson All-Boys Academy. Seems legit, although I did read online that a girl died on campus once, when they tried to integrate the students. Scary.
“I’m fine,” I say, blinking myself out of my stupor and glancing over at her. I’ve got fresh rose-gold in my hair, a new very short and very edgy ‘do, and an Idol’s Eye necklace hanging between my breasts. Dad’s charm bracelet is on my arm, and I’ve tucked a little something from each boy into the pockets of the jeans I’m wearing underneath the black gown. “Really.”
