telling me anything.”
“No, let me say this,” she continues, sighing, and reaching up to sweep some blond bangs from her forehead. “Creed is going to fucking kill me …”
“Miranda!” I blurt, but she glances up sharply, and I can see that I'm going to hear this, whether I like it or not.
“Creed is … well, he's sort of a …” Her voice trails off, and she curses a bit under her breath, unfolding and folding her napkin. When she goes to unfold it for the fiftieth time, I reach out and clamp my hand over hers.
“Stop that.”
“Creed's kind of a … virgin.” Miranda looks right at me as she says it, stealing my breath away.
“Wha … what?!” I chirp so loudly that the first year girls stop talking and turn to gape at us, equal parts fear and envy in their eyes. It's such a different way than I was looked at for the past two years that I'm not sure what to make of it. I reach up subconsciously and touch the opal earrings Creed gifted me for my birthday. I told myself I wasn't going to, but I looked up similar earrings online … and they're worth a lot. Not as much as a car, maybe, but these guys are all so rich, I don't necessarily equate more money spent to better gifts. I snort. “He is not a virgin.”
“Yes, he is,” she repeats, raising both brows. “I know he presents otherwise, but he is.”
“You don't know that …”
“Yes, I do!” she says, spilling her lemonade in her excitement. “We're twins.” She rolls her eyes, like this should be obvious. “He's a virgin. I know that for a fact.”
I suck my bottom lip under my teeth. I'm still not entirely sure I believe her, but if that's true, then Creed is one hell of an actor.
“Why are you telling me this? And you're right: maybe it wasn't your story to tell?” Miranda grins, and shrugs.
“True, but I felt like you should know. I mean, I don't think any of the other four are … I just figured it might mean something to you.”
I'm silent for a minute, and our waiter comes out with our orders. I'm seriously reeling from the info, and I have no idea what to do with it. Does that make a difference? I think back to the hot tub again.
“Anyway, like I said, if you're not going to pick me, pick Creed.” She pauses and waits for me to say something.
“You know I love you,” I tell her, and she sighs, hanging her head.
“But not like that?”
I stay silent, and we both pick up our forks to eat.
After that, we don't mention the kiss again, but Miranda still watches me with a certain look. I'm not sure if she's given up yet, but I'm glad we had that talk.
She's my backbone at the academy, and she's right: she's the one person here who's not a part of the Club. I feel in my heart that I can trust her.
Everyone else … I'm not so sure about.
Creed and I start our tutoring sessions again, and it's a much more relaxed atmosphere than it was last year. Honestly, I feel like for the first time ever, he's actually trying. He listens when I talk, and the way he follows me with his eyes …
"Miranda's in love with you," he says suddenly, interrupting our easygoing Wednesday session in the library. Today, he brought me an entire stack of yaoi—Japanese comics focusing on boy-on-boy relationships—as a gift. I reminded him that last year, he called them gauche and rolled his eyes, but I accepted the ribbon wrapped bundle anyway because there were several in there that I really want to read.
"Um," I hedge, feeling color creep into my cheeks. "You saw everything that happened."
"She's infuriating, you know that?" he drawls, folding his arms on the table and laying his cheek on them. His eyes are so heavy-lidded right now. There's a bit of anger in his voice, but I can tell it's not meant for me. "Some twin. Hitting on the girl I've already decided I want."
"Hah, you've decided?" I give him a look. When our eyes meet, my stomach clenches. But, like, in a good way. He's an arrogant jerk, but for whatever reason, I still like him, this lazy, little rich boy.
"I just can't believe that she's interested in you, too. What are the chances?" Creed sits up and stares at me for a minute. I