In the Arms of the Elite (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #4) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,78
rejection. “No. How …”
“Early admissions letters are in,” Harper purrs as she saunters up to us and tickles Creed’s blond hair with her finger. He slaps her hand away so hard, there’s an audible crack that causes the entire student lounge to fall silent. The only noise in that room is the click of the toy train on its tracks around the Christmas tree. “I hope you like your results, Working Girl. I pulled some favors, same as your little friend over here. But the difference between a Cabot and a du Pont is that money doesn’t always have as much pull as a good game of golf with old friends.”
“You fucking snake,” Creed snaps, standing up so quickly that the iPad falls to the floor. He grabs Harper by her tie and yanks her close. The move doesn’t wipe the smirk off her face, but the murmuring in the lounge starts up anew. “I should’ve fucking known.”
Harper pushes Creed’s hand off her and steps back, letting her eyes swing over to mine.
“I hear they have a great community college in Cruz Bay. I’m sure you’ll fit right in with the rest of the peasant trash.” Creed goes to shove Harper, but I move forward and wrap my fingers around his arm to hold him back, Zayd backing us both up from behind. I know these boys. They will beat the shit out of Harper du Pont if given the chance, regardless of her gender.
“She’s not worth it,” I say, trying to hold back this wash of devastation. I stayed at this school, and I suffered and for what? Of course, I know I’ve gained more over my three and a half years here than just a good schooling. Miranda and Andrew, they’re the type of friends you keep for life. And the boys … the boys … “Let her go. I have other plans for her.”
“Do you now?” Harper asks, backing up toward the door. “Because I’d like to see them. I was starting to wonder if the kitty had lost its claws.” She curls her fingers at me and makes a slashing motion before spinning away in a flurry of bloodred hair and black skirts.
Slowly, I bend down and pick the iPad off the floor, sitting down on the couch with it in my lap. Zayd and Creed take up spots on either side of me. Because of the incredible efficiency of the Burberry Prep gossip train, the other Idols know there’s been trouble, and within minutes, everyone’s there, gathered around me.
“They’re all rejections?” Windsor asks, his jaw clenched tight. “For sure? I thought we worked on this?”
“We did,” Creed breathes, and I realize just how much effort these guys are having to put in just to keep my life normal. “My mom, she … I told her how important this was.”
“I got into Bornstead,” Miranda whispers, holding up her tablet, so I can see. “I was coming up here to show you. If I got in, then I bet you did, too. Don’t you think Harper would stop me if she could?”
“Did you all get in?” I ask, and Creed and Zayd exchange a look over the top of me.
“Open the email,” Zack encourages as Tristan crosses his arms over his chest and watches with a stoic gaze. I wet my lower lip and then, just because I want to punish myself further, I look at the other three emails. All of them start with Thank you for your application, however … All of them.
Bornstead is the last one, sitting there at the top of the list, this mocking line of text on the screen of my tablet. I hesitate for a moment, and then decide that if I’m going to go through this pain, I may as well do it here, surrounded by my friends.
I click the email, and nearly choke.
Tears spring to my eyes, and I curl forward around the tablet, squeezing it close to my chest.
“What? What is it?” Creed asks, his half-lidded eyes open wide. They look like saucers in his pale, handsome face. “What the fuck did it say?”
I close my own eyes for a moment to catch my breath, and then sit back up, breathing heavily, my heart pounding. I turn to Creed first, and he lifts his brows up.
“I did it. I’m in. I got in. I’m in.”
His mouth opens in shock as Miranda squeals, and I soon find myself in Creed’s lap. He’s a sloth sure, but when he