Bad, Bad Bluebloods(Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #2) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,51

his eyes widen, but he’s brilliant at hiding it. Just brilliant. The next time we make eye contact, he’s scowling at me.

Creed has disappeared, dressed once again like a pirate (same as last year) with an unbuttoned red blouse, a plastic sword, and breeches so tight that there’s little left to the imagination. I’m guessing that’s why he was asking Miranda to buy him something yesterday: he didn’t expect to lose his off-campus privileges and ended up without a costume. Sucker. He doesn’t come back for the next several songs and by then, I’ve already forgotten about him. Him, and Tristan, and Zayd.

For whatever reason, Zack has that effect on me. I grin as he dips me, laugh as he lifts me back up, and squeal as he hoists me into his arms and spins us both around in circles.

When we leave for the cemetery portion of the party, I’m grinning ear to ear. I even let him hold my hand as we take off our heels and run barefoot through the grass and under the shadowy limbs of trees. It’s the perfect, foggy Halloween night, too.

My heart is racing as we stumble onto the party with our hands still linked.

I expect trouble, but there’s no resistance when we show up. For the most part, everyone ignores us.

For the most part.

“Careful if you’re drinking, the tattling teetotaler’s here,” someone mumbles, but really, should those in glass houses throw stones? This all started because Creed and his cronies reported me for drinking last year. Bunch of bullshit.

Zack grabs a beer, so does Miranda. Andrew, Jessie, and I stick with sodas, heading onto the dock to dangle our feet in the icy water for a while before we realize that the majority of the students have disappeared into the actual graveyard.

“Should we check it out?” I ask, this little niggle of suspicion working its way up from my stomach and into my chest. My heart pounds as I check my phone, pulling up the footage from the security cameras. There’s nothing there, but a quick rewind shows … My mouth drops open as both Zack and Miranda lean over to peer at the screen.

It’s Creed, rifling through my stuff, looking for my journal, finding my journal.

“Oh my god,” Miranda whimpers, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Creed, you fucking idiot.”

I push up from the dock, leaving my heels behind, and take off for the graveyard with the others following along behind me. Déjà vu hits me hard and fast as I come around the corner and find Creed lounging on top of one of the mausoleums with a horde of ghouls and ghosts surrounding him. Devils and demons, Miranda calls the Idols and their Inner Circle. She is spot freaking on.

Just like last year, I stand there with my heart pounding as Creed clears his throat, lifts up a bobby pin and picks my look. Just like last year, he’s the perfect picture of beauty and cruelty as he flips through the pages and stops on one at random. Just like last year, he opens his mouth to read my personal thoughts and feelings to an uncaring audience.

Unlike last year … I’m ready for it.

“Give me the word, and I’ll kick his ass,” Zack snarls, reaching up to take off his dangly earrings. It’s pretty funny actually, but I don’t want Creed Cabot to know that I’ve been onto him and his asshole friends all along. I put a hand against Zack’s chest to hold him back.

Creed smiles, this easy, satisfied expression, like a cat who’s just killed a mouse. What he doesn’t know is that the mouse was already poisoned and now he’s infected, too. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

“Dear Journal,” Creed begins, his beautiful voice dripping ice. The crowd titters already, excited at the thought of bloodshed. Becky, Harper, and Ileana are lounging on tombstones in their short-shorts and miniskirts, grinning and laughing. Tristan and Zayd each sit on a different headstone nearby. “Today was hard. Too hard. When I walked into math class and saw Jalen and Ebony sitting together, it all came back to me.” Creed pauses for a minute, looking up to scan his audience. His gaze comes to rest on me, and I swear, I almost just throw my head back and laugh. When he returns his attention back to the page, I stifle my chuckle with my hand and Zack gives me the strangest look.

“Creed, don’t,” Miranda pleads, stepping forward and pulling off her