The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,24
get a kick out of that.”
“You guys know the Bayside Bed and Breakfast is haunted, right?” I ask. “And besides that, their continental breakfast consists of oranges in a bowl, and cold cereal. There’s no valet, no turndown service, and they definitely have not perfected the art of ass kissing.”
“So we discovered yesterday,” Tristan says, gray eyes sliding to one side. His arms are crossed tight over his chest, and even though I’m no psychologist, there’s something about his stance that says guarded, closed-off, unavailable. I wonder if he’s doing it on purpose? “The ceiling in my bathroom drips, and there’s no room service.”
“Grenadine Heights might be an exclusive neighborhood, but overall, Cruz Bay is laid back, and very West Coast casual. Sorry, guys.” I grin as Windsor releases me, and I turn to see Zack, watching us with a brand-new red and black varsity jacket on his shoulders.
“They let you back on the team?” I ask, and he nods, grimacing slightly.
“Honestly, it’s kind of bullshit that they forgave me so easily,” he starts, but then I’m sliding my arms around his trim waist, and he’s enveloping me in a hug that makes me sweat buckets. I feel all swoon-y and weird around him in a way I never have before.
Dad grumbles something under his breath, and disappears into the dining area to order a root beer float. He’s trying to give me some privacy with my friends, which I appreciate, but every now and then his eyes flick our direction.
“Win some for Burberry Prep this year, okay?” I say, because once I took my revenge, and crossed his name off my list, I was done. There’s no point in beating a dead horse, and I trust that Zack’s learned a lesson he’ll never forget. I didn’t take revenge so I could gloat about it, or roll around in the blood of my enemies the way Harper might. And now that it’s over—with these guys anyway—I’m ready to start down the path of forgiveness.
Ask anyone: forgiveness is a much harder path than revenge.
That much I know for sure, because seconds later, the door opens and in walks Jennifer with a cluster of balloons in hand.
My heart turns to ice, plummets into my belly, and shatters into shards.
I feel sick.
“Hi …” Miranda starts, looking totally unsure. But then she glances back at me, sees my face, and she knows: this is my mother. She knows all the stories, too, about the cheating and the rest stop and the sister I’ve never met.
“Marnye,” Jennifer begins, making her way over to us in a party dress almost as fancy and flouncy as my own. “I brought you something.” She weaves her way between my friends without acknowledging them. That is, until she spots Windsor York. “Oh. Oh my god. Your majesty.” She blurts the words, and my face turns beet red. I’m probably hot to the touch, too.
Jennifer turns to me with this look of pure glee on her face, like somehow my being friends with British royalty reflects on her in a positive way. To be honest, I’ve never felt more alien around anyone in my life the way I do around Jennifer. She’s a stranger in the worst kind of way. I mean, she’s my mother, one of the people in this world who are supposed to be closer to me than anyone, and yet, she’s as far away from me as a random woman off the street.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as Dad comes around the edge of the glass wall, and gives her a look of surprise. I can tell by the expression on his face that he didn’t invite her either. He wouldn’t do that to me, not without asking.
“Well, it came up in passing conversation with your father that you might be here today …” Jennifer trails off, her blond hair coiffed on the top of her head like a princess, all braided with glittering silver thread and tiny pearl beads.
“I did not invite you, Jenn,” Charlie says, his face this strange mix of empathy and frustration.
I feel so weird, having this moment with the Idols on one side of me, Zack and Windsor on the other, and my new friends fanned out behind my mother with matching expressions of sympathy.
“I just came to give my baby girl some balloons,” Jennifer says, passing over the bobbing bundle. Her eyes skim past me and come to land on Zayd. Her red painted mouth pops open in