Bad, Bad Bluebloods(Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #2) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,30

the team remained unchanged from last year, but with Principal Collins putting pressure on the coach, she’s having to open up the ranks.

Now, Burberry Prep is a snobby, academic-based school. Cheerleading is almost seen as a bit … basic. But while Harper and Becky have no interest in signing up, the rest of the Blueblood girls are not beyond the allure. So when I walk in with my gym bag over my shoulder, all eyes are on me.

Including Zack’s.

He’s standing in the center of a cluster of girls, smiling sweet as pie. The expression on his face puts a frown on mine, even as he separates himself from the team and they let out a collective groan. Ileana, in particular, is glaring daggers at me. Kiara, too. Maybe they’re pissed that I single-handedly sent all three Idol boys, both remaining Idol girls, and half the Inner Circle to in-school suspension. It starts on Fridays right after class ends, and consists of school-related chores like stocking books in the library, dusting shelves, sweeping leaves, and scrubbing windows. From Friday evening until late Sunday, the in-school suspension students are locked down by staff members with brief nine hour breaks to sleep—and even then, they’re checked on twice a night.

Basically, it’s hell on earth.

“What are you doing in here?” I whisper as Zack comes up to stand beside me, towering over me like he always does. I know it’s not on purpose, but it’s intimidating. I refuse to let it get to me, and lift my chin in defiance, trying to make myself feel a little taller.

“Well, I really didn’t expect you to be in here, so you can’t claim I’m stalking you.” He tucks his hands in his pockets and just stares at me. I can feel his gaze like a heated laser, searching across my face, seeking … something. It bugs me, but I also refuse to back down. “I’m a guest judge for tryouts.” He shrugs his shoulders again, as if that makes it all better.

“You are a guest judge?” I ask, and I get a rare smirk from him, this sensual twisting of lips that makes me realize so very quickly why all those girls are swooning over there. Zack leans in close, putting his forearm on the wall above my head. He’s all around me in that moment, hard muscles and musky smelling cologne. My lashes flutter, and I exhale past the hormones. Last year, they got me into trouble. This year, I won’t let that happen again. “What makes you qualified to judge cheerleading?”

“Um, my sister Kelsey was the head of the Burberry Prep cheerleading team.” Zack leans in a little closer, his letterman jacket falling open in the front, encompassing me. It’d be so easy for him to scoop me up and bundle me inside of it. That is, if I didn’t hate his guts. “Also, my mom went through a spell where she was tired of being more than a boring ass trophy wife; she coached for like three seasons.”

“I see …” I exhale, and blink a few times to clear away the cobwebs. I’d really like him to move away from me, but I feel like I can’t say it. I don’t want him to know how his presence is affecting me. “So … you’ll make sure I get on the team then?”

Zack’s brows go up, and a dark chuckle reverberates through him. I swear, I can feel it vibrating the air molecules between us.

“Are you asking me for help in your revenge plot?” He pauses for a second and shakes his head. “Not that you’ve needed much help thus far. Sinking the cars, that was brilliant. And Becky is still crying over her hair.”

“Get me on the team,” I tell him, staying firm. When he reaches out to touch a stray strand of rose gold hair, that’s when I call it quits, ducking underneath his arm and putting my back to the room. Zack watches me and sighs, dropping his hand to his side.

“Done.” The smirk disappears from his mouth and he frowns at me again. My mind conjures up an image of him dumping a garbage can full of used feminine products on my desk, and I almost throw up. I started my period earlier than most of the other girls, and I was mercilessly destroyed for it. Just one of the many, many things he did to me. I’ll never forget that. “That is, I can fix my vote, and I