Stuck With The Four Hotties

And the boys … the boys … “Let her go. I have other plans for her.”

“Do you now?” Harper asks, backing up toward the door. “Because I’d like to see them. I was starting to wonder if the kitty had lost its claws.” She curls her fingers at me and makes a slashing motion before spinning away in a flurry of bloodred hair and black skirts.

Slowly, I bend down and pick the iPad off the floor, sitting down on the couch with it in my lap. Zayd and Creed take up spots on either side of me. Because of the incredible efficiency of the Burberry Prep gossip train, the other Idols know there’s been trouble, and within minutes, everyone’s there, gathered around me.

“They’re all rejections?” Windsor asks, his jaw clenched tight. “For sure?

I thought we worked on this?”

“We did,” Creed breathes, and I realize just how much effort these guys are having to put in just to keep my life normal. “My mom, she … I told her how important this was.”

“I got into Bornstead,” Miranda whispers, holding up her tablet, so I can see. “I was coming up here to show you. If I got in, then I bet you did, too.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Don’t you think Harper would stop me if she could?”

“Did you all get in?” I ask, and Creed and Zayd exchange a look over the top of me.

“Open the email,” Zack encourages as Tristan crosses his arms over his chest and watches with a stoic gaze. I wet my lower lip and then, just because I want to punish myself further, I look at the other three emails. All of them start with Thank you for your application, however … All of them.

Bornstead is the last one, sitting there at the top of the list, this mocking line of text on the screen of my tablet. I hesitate for a moment, and then decide that if I’m going to go through this pain, I may as well do it here, surrounded by my friends.

I click the email, and nearly choke.

Tears spring to my eyes, and I curl forward around the tablet, squeezing it close to my chest.

“What? What is it?” Creed asks, his half-lidded eyes open wide. They look like saucers in his pale, handsome face. “What the fuck did it say?”

I close my own eyes for a moment to catch my breath, and then sit back up, breathing heavily, my heart pounding. I turn to Creed first, and he lifts his brows up.

“I did it. I’m in. I got in. I’m in.”

His mouth opens in shock as Miranda squeals, and I soon find myself in Creed’s lap. He’s a sloth sure, but when he wants to be, he’s lightning quick. His mouth is on mine, and he’s kissing me with slow, lazy perfection until Zayd clears his throat and draws both of us up and out of our stupor.

“So, the twins got in, I got in …” He glances over at the rest of the group. “I already told you, Milady, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. Of

course, I’m coming. If you’ll have me, that is.” Windsor shrugs, the weird gold epaulette things he attached to his uniform shimmering as he shrugs. Of course he has to break the severe nature of the fourth-year uniform with gold dangling bits on his shoulders. He wouldn’t be Windsor York if he didn’t.

“I’m playing football for Bornstead, it’s official,” Zack says, but Andrew’s shaking his head.

“I’m gonna miss you assholes, but I’m going to Stanford. Sorry.” He cringes slightly and makes a prayer shape with his hands. “And it’s not because Gary’s going there, so don’t believe the rumor. I always knew we

were a temporary thing. Actually, I’ve been casually emailing this guy who goes to Adamson All-Boys Academy … now that might be a thing.”

“You keep talking to these internet weirdos, and one day you’re going to get turned into a lampshade,” Miranda warns him, but I’m so happy I’m crying. There are literal tears streaming down my face, and I can’t stop them. I stand up suddenly, and everyone goes quiet. I look right at Tristan, but he says nothing. He doesn’t have to. I know he got in. The question is: is he going to go to Bornstead with me … or somewhere else? Somewhere with

Lizzie, perhaps?

My mind is holding onto that information about his dad, the possibility of reclaiming his father and a fortune bolstered by his father’s new bride … My eyes stray to Zack briefly, and he meets my gaze dead-on. There’s family issues there, too, that I want to sort through.

But first …

“Popcorn and movie time, my room. We can make sharing that bed work.” “And tea,” Windsor adds, holding up a finger. “Please don’t forget.”

Everyone stands up and shuffles toward the door, laughing, talking … it feels too good to be true.

I’ve noticed in life that when something feels that way, there’s usually a reason for it.

“You’re not going to Bornstead, are you?” I ask Tristan, but he just stares at me like he’s waiting for something.

“Is that what you’d like, Charity? Would that make you happy?”

“Where did you get that black eye?” I ask, sidestepping his question. It feels too personal to answer anyhow, and I swear, we probably only have like thirty seconds before Miranda comes back in here and yells at me for taking too long. “During fall break, where-”

“I know all about my own black eye; I don’t need you to describe it to me.” He reaches up and touches the side of his face in remembrance. I frown, but I know being a dickhead is his way of practicing self-defense. “And you, better than anyone, know perfectly well who gave it to me.”

“Your dad?” Tristan shrugs and turns away. I step toward him, a question on my lips that I know I shouldn’t ask but can’t help and then …

It’s actually Zayd this time that comes tromping in to bug us.

“Come on, Charity, it’s celebration time,” Zayd scoops me up in his arms and carries me out the door and down the steps.

We head down to my dorm and go inside, tea is served all around, and the movie is started.

It’s nearly ten minutes before there’s a knock on the door, and Zack gets up to answer. Without a word, Tristan steps inside and joins us.

Now the bullying and behind-the-scenes manipulation from Harper, that’s expected.

Seeing the king of the school in my room eating

popcorn? That’s the shock of a lifetime.