In the Arms of the Elite (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #4) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,94
a bet,” Tristan snaps as Lizzie starts off down the hall, dark ponytail bobbing. She turns around, her laptop and a huge hardcover textbook tucked in her arms, and purses her lips.
“Yeah, well, so did you.”
And then she spins away and disappears down the hall.
I don’t see hide nor hair of her for weeks.
“They want you dead.”
Lizzie’s words ring in my head, but I can’t seem to nail down one of the guys to get them to tell me why. Why me? What the hell have I done that’s so wrong?
“Zayd Kaiser,” I snap, putting my hands on my hips and pausing in front of him. He’s situated on the edge of the fountain in the front courtyard, lifting his shades up to look at me. We’ve got a week until Valentine’s Day, and I’m stumped on how to handle it with all five boys. Last year, Zack and I … Well, you know what Zack and I did. This year, I want to spend the day with everyone.
“Marnye Reed, long-time no see,” he says, as if he didn’t spend the night in my dorm last night. I haven’t told the guys this, but I’ve been putting their names in a hat and drawing one for every day of the week. The two remaining days I leave as a group day and a personal day. I only let the guys sleep over—or sleep over in their rooms—on the scheduled days.
It’s not a perfect system, but it’s working. That, and it manages to take the complicated real-life complexity of an alternative relationship and make it fit on paper, which I appreciate.
Zayd pats his lap like that’s the most logical place in the world for me to sit. I ignore him and sit beside him instead, trailing my fingers in the water and giving him a look. Last night, when I tried to ask about the Infinity Club, he started kissing my neck and I forgot my own name.
Today, he’s not going to be so lucky.
“You know, the boys and I were just discussing details for the tour this summer.” He lifts his phone up and wiggles it around. Ah, Saturday and the return of technology to the campus. It gets so quiet on weekends. That is, when people aren’t partying like crazy. “We sort of set it up, so that we go between here and Colorado. Keep it short, sweet, simple, and end with me sliding into your bed at Bornstead.”
I just look at him then, dressed in tight black jeans and boots, his shirt short-sleeved and covered in pins, and I try to imagine the type of life we could have together if I picked him. I’m so strait-laced, and he’s so … not. But I wonder sometimes if Tristan and I would be at each other’s throats after a time, we’re so damn similar.
Maybe Zayd could tour with his band, and I could teach seminars around the world or something … I’d spend all day working in a strict academic setting, and then he’d come back all sweaty and covered in ink and charged up from his performance and we’d—
“Marnye?” he asks, waving an inked hand in front of my face. “Whoa, beautiful, where did you go just now?”
I shake my head, and sweep my hands up to push some random loose tendrils of hair from my face.
“I want to know how Lizzie broke a bet, why she’s not like, dead or something, and why she said Tristan just did the same. I think I also deserve to know if people are trying to fucking kill me.”
“It’s … fuck, okay.” Zayd ruffles up his sea green hair with his fingers, and then glances out at the road like he’s waiting for someone. The bell towers above us ring, and birds scatter in the wind like leaves. “We tried, we really did. We … that’s all we did that week is try to fix things, so that Harper and the senior Infinity Club members would leave you alone. We failed at that, Marnye.” I remember Windsor’s face when he showed up at Dad’s house that day, all drawn and tired. “We tried. But we’re junior members, so …” He trails off and looks up at the sky, leaning back, the cluster of necklaces around his throat jangling. Absently, he reaches up with his left hand and plays with them. I notice some are badges from past concerts. One has a lipstick stain on it that makes my eyes narrow to