The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,43
a forced laugh. “Pretty sure he's joking.” But then I think about the feel of his arm around my waist, and I get lightheaded. “No way.”
“Yes way,” Andrew says, glancing over at Lizzie. She nods and gives me a sympathetic smile. “And Tristan, he's practically salivating.”
My eyes meet Lizzie's, but she manages to keep her smile.
“Like I told you before, anything I had with him was in the past … with any of them, really.”
“But you still love Tristan?” My heart stutters like crazy as I wait for her answer. I can't believe I actually asked that question aloud. For months now, I've told myself it was better not to know, to just let things play out as they might, but … I need to know.
Lizzie sniffles and then nods once, sharply.
“Don't worry though,” she blurts suddenly. “I'm with Marcel now. My dad hates Tristan's dad, and vice versa. We're an impossibility.”
“But you love him anyway?” Andrew asks, tucking the fingers of his right hand into the pocket of his red academy jacket. Like me, he hasn't bothered to change.
“Yes.” Lizzie is staring right at me, but I don't know how to respond or what to say.
Andrew whistles and shakes his head, pausing as Gary Jacobs passes by, his eyes following the other boy until he disappears into the hallway. There's a longing there that's echoed in Lizzie's gaze. Andrew turns back to me, like he's waiting for me to say something.
“Okay,” I say, and Andrew lifts his brows up.
“Okay?” he echoes, glancing over at Lizzie and then turning back to me. “What does that even mean? Do you like Tristan, too?”
“Me?” I choke out, because … I haven't really let myself think about that too hard.
No lies, damn it. Not even to yourself! I repeat, clenching my hands so tight, I make little crescent marks in my palms with my nails.
When Tristan touches me, my heart races. When he looks at me, I feel lightheaded. When he's not being a jerk to me—which is rare—I want to swoon. Do I like him? The king of the school? The ultimate asshole among assholes?
“Shit,” I curse, feeling my face get hot, and Andrew grins.
“I knew it,” he whispers as I cover my face with my hands.
“I like him,” I murmur, feeling this sensation ripple through me as it hits home. “I do.”
Pulling my hands away, I look back up to find Lizzie and Andrew watching me.
“It's fine, really,” Lizzie says with a sad smile. “I won't sabotage you. Like I said, I'm with Marcel …”
“Tristan likes you back,” I blurt, even though I'm kicking myself all the while. No lies. No fucking lies. That is going to be a hard and shitty rule to follow. “I can tell. He's never gotten over you.” Lizzie glances away and shrugs her shoulders loosely.
“Maybe, but … there's no future for us. If you like him, you should go for him.”
“The question is: who do you like best?” Andrew asks me, and I stare at him with this helpless hole opening inside my chest. Who do I like best? I have to choose?
“I have no idea,” I whisper, and then we all pause as Zack comes up to stand with us. He looks between the three of us, Lizzie and me with flushed faces, and then he raises his dark brows.
“Everything okay in here?” he asks, his voice a deep, smooth rumble that vibrates my bones. I love it, and I like him.
“Everything's fine,” I say as I exhale and try to push those feelings aside for now. Harper and Becky have just entered the room and are staring at me. I have more pressing matters to deal with, but I can't help but wonder who would envy me over this.
Having five guys—maybe five, because Windsor is … well, Windsor—interested in me is not a blessing, it's a curse.
How the fuck am I supposed to choose?
The next few weeks are packed with assignments, club meetings—why did I join so many clubs?!—orchestra rehearsals, cheerleading, and almost daily struggles between us and the ex-Bluebloods.
The crowd on the yacht was clearly split, but intimidated as hell by the boys.
For now, the Plebs seems content to watch. The only bullying I receive anymore is from the girls and their cronies. Everyone else is too scared to mess with me. Still, it's hard to say what's going to happen if push comes to shove. Will the general population side with us … or them.