The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,15

my neck stands on end. John was undoing his pants. I'm pretty sure he …

“Hey,” Zayd whispers, drawing my attention over to him. “Don't look at those assholes.”

We stare at each other, his lip and eyebrow rings catching the flickering light from the bonfire. He really has a beautiful face, meant for stardom. And that voice … It's no wonder his personal net worth is around twelve million. His dad's net worth is close to four hundred million, but it's Zayd's grandmother, who started a rental car business in the sixties who's worth the most: at around six billion.

“What the fuck, Tristan?” I hear Harper spit out, and even though I'd much rather look at Zayd, I end up turning to glance in that direction. Miranda is right there. Creed, too. Lizzie and Myron as well.

Windsor stands back, sipping from a red plastic cup. How he's managed to get a drink in his hand so fast is just a testament to his party boy skills. He notices me looking at him and gives a dramatic little wink.

Tristan reaches out for Harper's bare shoulder, and then pushes her to the side. Not forcefully or anything, just enough to get her out of the way. He funnels between Ileana and Becky as they gape at him, and the others follow.

“Who invited Coventry Prep?” Becky says, at a volume that's clearly meant to carry. “This is a Burberry party.” She steps in front of Lizzie and gives her a little shove in the chest.

“Don't test me,” Lizzie says, just as loudly. “You saw what happened last year when you tried.”

Becky pushes her again, this time with two hands.

Lizzie stumbles back, and then Tristan's there, hauling Becky up and away, and tossing her to the sand.

“Do not touch my people, Platter,” he says, pointing at her. His face is dead serious. Without having to try, his voice cuts through the murmuring and the whispering. There are Plebs everywhere, watching us. I rise to my feet, sensing violence. Back at Ileana Taittinger's party, when I dumped the cars in the pool, I could see factions forming in the audience. The same thing is happening here.

Tristan versus Harper, King versus Queen.

"If you keep talking, I’ll toss you right out of this limo, and we’ll find out if the Plebs enjoy their queen better … or their king. Don’t test me, Harper.”

Looks like we're about to find out.

“Don't think anything's changed at the academy. I'm still an Idol. Creed, Zayd, and I still have an Inner Circle.” Tristan swings his arm to indicate our little group. “You're looking at them. Hands off.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Ileana squeaks behind him, but he's ignoring her completely. She's a vicious little rat, but that's all she is: vermin. Harper and Becky are the ringleaders, and those boys are their pets. I swallow hard and Zack reaches down to take my hand. As soon as he touches me, I feel warmth surge up my arm and into my chest.

Tristan lifts his head, and I swear to god, it's the cockiest, most arrogant thing I've ever seen, the way he pushes raven-black hair from his face. His gray eyes sparkle as he sneers.

“Burberry Prep has a new queen.”

“Lizzie?” Harper screeches, trying and failing to toss back what's left of her brunette hair. Hah. Go Windsor.

“No,” Tristan says, pointing back at me. “Her.”

“The Working Girl?” Harper blurts, and suddenly, all eyes are on me.

I don't know why, but I stand up.

My heart is pounding so fast that I feel dizzy, but I hold my ground.

“What makes you think you control the academy?” Becky sneers, taking Sai Patel's hand so he can pull her to her feet. The Bluebloods assemble like an army behind the three Idol girls.

“Think?” Tristan echoes, scoffing like Becky's a brainless idiot. I mean, I'm pretty sure she is, but he definitely puts that feeling into his voice in a way I'm not sure I could. “I don't think anything. I am in charge of the academy.”

He turns and starts to walk away when Harper grabs onto his arm, digging her nails into his rounded biceps.

“I haven't told William that we broke up yet,” she says, her voice just this side of pleading. “He doesn't have to know.” I glance over at Lizzie and see that her shoulders have gone completely stiff. She's staring at Tristan with this mix of want and confusion that makes my chest hurt. Maybe … now that he's broken up with Harper, now that he's