Bad, Bad Bluebloods(Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #2) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,21

you like or not,” Miranda says, leaning back and tucking her hair behind her ear. “So you may as well tell us all about your genius plans now.” She attempts a hair toss, but it fails miserably. I grin.

I'm not about to tell Andrew and Miranda anything, especially not the fact that I’m not putting my trust in anyone this year. I can barely trust myself. I decided I needed to make a stand, that I needed to make the Bluebloods pay, that I needed to pave a spot for myself at the school. But it's a slippery slope, and I don't want to end up like them. It took me a long time to find out who I am, and an even longer time to start to like the person that I’m becoming, so I can't let this ruin me. It's going to be a challenge. For now though, I’m going to keep any thoughts of revenge to myself.

“Oh, if I’ve got something planned … you’ll see.”

On Friday, I intend to show them, what, exactly I’ve got up my sleeve.

The first week of school comes to a close without any major events. There are too many staff members in the halls, and even though I turned down that bodyguard guy, Kyle or Keith or whatever, he’s still around, acting like the Burberry prep campus cop. It doesn't stop the girls from saying things to me as they pass in the hall, but all I do is smile. I know what I’ve got planned.

The Idol boys seem to be going out of their way to steer clear of me. Whether that's because they're having a hard time facing up to what they did (doubtful) or because they hate me so much they're not sure if they can control themselves in my presence, I’m not sure. For whatever reason, I see very little of the three boys I started falling for last year.

Zack, however, is a different story. He sits next to me during the morning announcements and in every class we share. On Friday, as I’m getting ready for the party, he shows up at my door again.

I check the peephole and sigh, throwing the door open and moving back, so he can step inside the room. He’s so freaking tall and wide, he takes up the whole space with his presence. My heart skips a few beats before I manage to get a hold of myself. It helps that Andrew’s lounging on my bed, and Miranda’s in the bathroom spinning her long hair into curls. My rose gold locks are twisted in gentle waves around my face, hair-sprayed to hell, and covered in glitter.

Zack looks me over with those dark eyes of his, taking me in from head to toe, his face entirely impassive. He rarely shows emotion. The face he has on now could be the same one he used when he was tormenting me at Lower Banks. Hell, it could be the same expression he wore when he cupped my face in his big hands and kissed me on the mouth. My first kiss. Our last kiss.

I cross my arms over my chest, fully aware that I’m wearing nothing but a robe with lingerie underneath. Don’t get any ideas: the lingerie isn’t for anyone but me. It makes me feel more confident.

“You look good, Reed,” Zack says, wearing his letterman jacket with a tight black t-shirt, dark jeans, and shiny new sneakers. He looks like a million bucks. His outfit, as unassuming as it is, probably costs about the same. “Off to the party, I’m guessing?”

“What do you want, Zack?” I ask, looking at him and wondering if he’s here out of guilt, worry, curiosity, all three? I don’t need him to pay attention to me because he feels like he has to. And I didn’t need him to transfer here out of some sick sense of duty. He can be as nice as he wants to me; it doesn’t change anything. His name is still on my list.

“Let me be your backup,” he says with a loose shrug of his massive shoulders. The movement makes the muscles in his chest shift, and my eyes catch on the fabric of his tee as it strains with the motion. Good god. No wonder the coach was okay with taking a second year onto the varsity team. Zack is bigger than every other guy at this school, including the fourth years. I bet he crushes dudes on the field.

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