“We have a common enemy now, don’t we?” he snaps, and Windsor raises his red eyebrows.
“Wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight: you’re here because of … Harper?” He just stares at Tristan, but the king of the school simply crosses his arms over his chest and says nothing. “You’re not at all interested in that girl over there?” Windsor points in my direction, and I flush. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s what all these other assholes are after: they want Marnye.”
The sound of the back door opening startles me, and I stand up from the edge of the bed just in time for Charlie to appear in the hallway. He sees me and starts to smile … and then notices the cadre of well-dressed boys in my room.
“Marnye,” he starts, brown eyes taking in the guys with surprise, anger, and then disgust. “What are these three doing here?” His voice is a hard snap, and I cringe. My dad is glaring at the Idols like he’d kill them if he could, snap their necks and toss them onto the driveway for the seagulls. He hazards a wary glance for Zack, too, and then looks at Windsor with confusion before turning back to me.
I open my mouth, but no words will come out.
A loud knock interrupts us all, and the sound of a door being thrown open is followed by Miranda's voice calling out.
“Marnye?”
“In here,” I reply, holding my breath until she rounds the corner to my room, face flushed, floral skirt flying. Miranda has her phone clutched in one hand, a purse strung over the opposite shoulder, and a glare laser-focused on her twin.
Creed stares back at her and narrows his ice-blue eyes to slits before she turns away and throws a smile in my dad's direction.
“Hello, Mr. Reed, sorry I'm late.” She grins, and I grimace. Her attempted cover-up is a little too peppy and excited. “I love your new home, by the way.” Dad smiles at her, but he's still not happy with me, tucking his fingers into his overalls pockets and glancing my way again.
“Thank you, Miranda. But Marnye still needs to answer my question.”
Wow. This is literally the most strict I've ever seen Charlie Reed in my life, and just before I turn seventeen, too. My heart skips a beat, and I glance at Windsor as I consider what, exactly, I should say to get out of trouble. Without having to lie, that is. I raise an eyebrow at the prince, and he raises one back at me. Something about him makes me want to tell the truth, and it just tumbles out.
“My friends are here to invite me to the Hamptons,” I say, and there's something surreal about that phrase. We're in California currently. The Hamptons are on the opposite side of the country, in the northeast. That means packing, a plane ride, a place to stay, parental supervision. Err, at least some pretend parental supervision.
“The Hamptons?” Charlie asks, and then he narrows his eyes slightly as he tries to think about where that is. “You mean in New York?”
“Sir, if I may,” Windsor says, stepping forward and stealing the show yet again. It's sort of a thing he does. “I'm Windsor York. I don't believe we've met?”
Charlie raises his eyebrows and gives him a look that very clearly says he's not buying what the prince is selling.
“I'm the president of the host club, to which your daughter belongs.”
“Host club?” Charlie asks, and pretty much everyone in the room groans. Wow. Windsor's making a joke about a very specific Japanese anime show called Ouran High School Host Club. There's a main female character surrounded by guys … basically a reverse harem sort of situation.
“A host club … is a group of students who mentor other students,” I explain, which is true, but also sort of … not. More accurately, it's a group of people who are paid to be attentive and talkative with their clients, or even possibly paid to date, cuddle, or kiss. Not exactly prostitutes because there's no sex involved, but similar. I don't confirm or deny if Windsor's telling the truth and forge on. “They all want me to come to the Hamptons this summer.” I pause and point at my bestie. Creed was right, I suppose. “I'd be staying with Miranda.”
She grins, squeals, and then throws her arms around me in a huge hug.
“Marnye,” Charlie continues as he meets my eyes. “That's not the problem. What are these three doing here? I don't want them in my house.” He looks up and meets Zack's eyes. “I'm not sure I want him here either.”
“They're trying to make up for what they did,” I blurt, and as soon as the words leave my mouth, I know they're true.
“That may be so,” Dad sighs, “but I’m sorry, the four of you need to leave.” There’s a tension in the room that’s making my stomach hurt. Somehow, the idea of my dad hating these guys bothers me even though it shouldn’t. I mean, I’m thrilled that he’s standing up for me, that he loves me enough to care, but …
“Please let me go to the Hamptons.” The words fall out in a blur as Zack, Tristan, Creed, and Zayd rise from their respective seats and pause. I’m not even sure why I’m begging. Do I really want to go, knowing that Harper and her cronies will be there? Besides, Dad is sick, and I should stay … but what if I went for a weekend, a week at most?
Clearly, there’s trouble with the Infinity Club, and with the girls. What if I could get that sorted out during the summer and start fresh? Bullshit, Marnye, my brain interrupts. You just want to spend time with them. With all of them.
“I’d be staying with Kathleen and Miranda,” I continue, and Dad’s gaze swings right to Creed. The boy’s shoulders stiffen, but thankfully, he keeps his cavalier little mouth closed.
“Isn’t the Cabot boy one of your bullies?” Charlie asks, looking at Creed with such a pained expression that my hurt hearts for them both. “Why?” he says suddenly, turning from Creed to Zayd to Tristan, and then swinging over to Zack. “Why my little girl, my heart?” Dad’s face tightens up with such a strong mix of anger and sadness that I take a step toward him. “Marnye’s had a hard life, with my idiot ass getting drunk, and her mother …” Charlie exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them again. “Why did you have to pick her, of all people? What did she do to deserve your hatred?”
“Sir.” The first person to speak up is Creed, surprising me. Dad glances his way warily, meeting those ice-blue eyes dead-on. “There’s no excuse for what we did. We picked on Marnye because she was poor.” Dad bristles, but Creed carries on as if he doesn’t notice. “We thought she was an easy target; she’s not. Mr. Reed, your daughter is strong.”
Creed pauses and exhales, slouching slightly, like that speech took a lot out of him. My skin turns a bright red, and my palms sweat, but I’m not really sure what to say. Glancing over, I find Miranda with this tender expression on her face as she gazes at her twin. She said she thought Creed was redeemable; maybe she was right?
“Pretty words, son,” Charlie says, reaching up to rub at his forehead. “But I can’t for the life of me figure out why you’d all come here and invite my daughter on a trip if it wasn’t for some sort of prank.”
“I can assure you,” Tristan interrupts, his voice that authoritative steel that works on everyone … except for Charlie. Dad does not look he’s going to be convinced by anything Tristan has to say. “That there are other reasons.”
“Like?” Dad begins, and Windsor grins. Zack looks frustrated, and Zayd won’t look at my dad for shit. He’s clearly ashamed to be sitting here right now. Our eyes meet, and I have this desperate need to just sit down and talk with him. For hours. Maybe days.
I need to go to the Hamptons.
“Like, we’re all crushing—” Windsor starts, and I step forward, elbowing him hard in the side. Dad, however, has heard, and now he looks just as terrified as before, if not more so.
“Call Kathleen Cabot,” I say, glancing back at Miranda, and she nods, a small smile lighting on her lips. I turn back to Dad. “Call Kathleen, and she’ll tell you. I’ll be staying with her and Miranda.”
Charlie looks so skeptical right now, like he wouldn’t agree to this arrangement if you paid him.
“We’ll only be there for a week,�
�� Miranda adds, stepping forward to hook her arm through mine. Creed notices, narrows his eyes, and huffs as he looks away. Huh. Okay. I refocus my attention on Dad. “My mom and I, we’ll take good care of her, I promise. And we won’t let Creed bother her ever again, I swear it to you.” Charlie frowns and reaches up to rub at the back of his head.
“I could call Kathleen, I suppose,” he starts, looking over at me. I lift my chin and meet his gaze. Don’t worry about me, Dad, I think, but my heart is breaking as I think about his words. “My little girl, my heart.” It never occurred to me how much my being bullied must’ve affected him, too. “I’ll check in with her and see,” he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “Now, if the four of you could leave, I’d appreciate it.”
He heads for the door, and stands aside while Tristan, Zayd, Creed, and Zack file out.
Miranda, Windsor, and I wait until we hear the front door close behind them, and then the rumble of Charlie’s voice as he greets Mrs. Cabot over the phone.
“My mom once convinced a Japanese businessman who didn’t speak English to invest in her company during their first meeting.” Miranda glances over at me with a grin. “If anyone can get you a ticket to spend the summer with us, it’s her.”
“If not, I can always make a royal decree,” Wind jokes, and I roll my eyes again. I do that a lot when he’s around, but mostly it’s out of a burgeoning sense of affection. He’s becoming a good friend. “Of course, you Americans don’t have a lick of respect for authority, so I doubt that would work.”
“Here we go with the American comments again,” I mumble as Windsor makes himself comfortable on my bed, folding his arms behind his head and staring up at my ceiling. He even kicks his boots off like he plans on staying a while. “Aren’t you supposed to be in England for the summer anyway?”
“Says who?” Windsor asks as Miranda takes in my bedroom with awe. It’s the first time she’s ever been over to my house, and I like it. I’ve never had a girlfriend to do sleepovers or anything with before. While I was never bullied in elementary school the way I was in middle or high school, I’ve always had trouble making friends. Until now, that is. Anyway, if Miranda’s sticking around for a while, I’d love to show her the Train Car.
“You did, like last week,” Miranda says, pushing his feet off the end of the bed and taking the vacated spot.
“Oh, did I? I lied.” Windsor yawns and we all pause as we hear Charlie laugh from the direction of the living room. “I’ve decided I can’t possibly miss out on the action this summer.” He rolls to his side, props his head on his hand, and looks at me from glittering hazel eyes. “Besides, there’s going to be a lot of mating rituals around Marnye that I want to see.”
“Mating rituals?” I choke out, and he laughs, reaching up to ruffle his crimson hair.
“You have so many beautiful men lusting after you. There will be posturing, gestures, come-ons. I can’t let that happen without throwing my hat in the ring, too.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I snort, but my heart is racing a little, and I decide there’s something weirdly intimate about Windsor York lying on my bed. All of a sudden, I just sort of want him off of it and out the door. I want—no, I need—to gossip with Miranda about all of this. “You already said you weren’t interested in dating me.”
“No.” Windsor sits up and his jacket falls enticingly over one shoulder, revealing the white tank he’s wearing underneath. “I never. I would never. I merely observed that you weren’t interested in dating me. That, and I warned it would be short-lived, but beautiful.”
“Wow, how romantic,” Miranda spits, giving him a death glare. “Remind me to seek your advice next time I want to ask a girl out. Hey, I don’t plan on dating you for long, but want to try it anyway?” She rolls her eyes, and I grin. I’m pretty sure Windsor’s joking.
At least … I think he is?
He is, right?
Our conversation is momentarily paused when Charlie walks back in the room, tapping his cell against the palm of one hand. The way he looks at me in that moment, it’s like he’s scared for me, but he knows he can’t hold me back. I feel a surge of sadness come over me, followed immediately by excitement mixed with anxiety.
“Okay,” he says, and my brows go up, “you can go with Miranda, but Kathleen is in charge of you the whole time. If I get one whiff of trouble out there, I’ll come and get you myself. Oh, and if those boys so much as utter one rude word in your direction …” Dad trails off, but I smile and move over to give him a huge hug which he returns.
“I won’t be gone too long,” I whisper, “and then I’ll be back so we can go to the lake together.”
“Okay, Marnye-bear,” he says, giving me a kiss on the head. But I notice that his eyes fall on Windsor … and narrow. “I’m going to go take a shower. Just … if Miranda goes, then leave the door open, okay?” He lets go of me and turns to head toward the bathroom while I look between his retreating back … and Windsor’s smiling face.
“Yes, please do, leave the door open,” Windsor purrs, and I grab my hairbrush from the vanity, and chuck it at him. He catches it in one hand and laughs, while Miranda and I exchange a look.
Oh yeah, we’re in need of some serious girl time.
Especially since I’m pretty sure my boy-free summer has just turned into a boy-centric one.
One week later, and I’m on a plane, sitting in business class again and trying not to be nervous about this trip. Part of me wonders if I’m going to have the time of my life … or experience a nightmare I can’t undo. When I close my eyes, I see Greg and John and Ben. I see Harper ordering them to rape me. Bile rises in my throat and I open my eyes quickly, just in time to order a soda from the flight attendant.
I’m all alone on this flight—the others all left days ago. But that’s okay. It feels good to have a moment all to myself to think.
What, exactly, is my relationship with the guys?
Windsor … is a friend. Right? And Zack is a … crush? Do I want him to be a crush?
I’m pretty sure Creed thinks I’m somehow his after what happened in the hot tub (idiot). Zayd is so ashamed he can barely look at me. And Tristan is … well, he’s Tristan.
Groaning, I down my soda like the guy two seats up and one over is downing tiny bottles of rum. When I went to the bathroom last, I saw he had like seven on his tray. Guess first-class customers really do get away with whatever they want?
There’s a button that turns my seat into a bed, so as soon as the flight attendant collects my cup, I press it, and then curl up to take a nap.
When I arrive, there’s a limo waiting for me.
The Cabots live in an almost disturbingly huge mansion, right on the edge of the beach. My room leads out onto a deck with stairs that go right down to the yard, and from there, it’s just a short walk to the sandy shore. Even though I grew up in Cruz Bay, and the beach has always been a short drive away, it’s no less impressive. I just have to keep reminding myself that this is the Atlantic Ocean, not the Pacific. It’s pretty surreal, to be honest.
The house itself is actually quite homey, considering, and I can see Kathleen’s fingerprints all over the place.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she says, giving me what’s probably the twentieth or thirtieth hug since I got here. I know how bad Kathleen feels about what her son did to me, and I appreciate her genuine want and need to try and make up for that. “And I’m so pleased you girls have become friends. Miranda needs someone around to keep her grounded.”
“Mom,” Miranda groans, rolling her blue eyes and giving me an I’m so sorry my mom is clingy look. “Can you please leave Marnye alone? She didn’t come all the way across the country to be molested by you.”
Kathleen sighs and crosses her arms over her chest, her sunny yellow dress billowing in the gentle breeze from outside. Creed pauses beside her and puts my bags on the floor, looking mildly annoyed at his mother. She refused to let the butler—holy crap, they have a butler—do it, an
d insisted Creed take all my luggage up to my room.
“You,” she says, leveling a dark and disappointed stare on her child. I can see the damage done to Creed and Kathleen’s relationship from here. It doesn’t make me happy, exactly, but I also don’t feel overly guilty. Creed did this to himself. His own actions brought him down this path. There’s nothing I can do to change it; he has to repair his relationship with his mom by himself. “Pack your things. You’re going to stay with a friend.”
“What?” Creed chokes out, blinking confused blue eyes in Kathleen’s direction. “Why?”
She gives him a look, you know the type: a very parental sort of look. Children recognize it by the fear it strikes in their hearts; parents recognize it by the smug feeling they get when they cast it. Kathleen smiles, but it’s not a pretty expression. Her curly red hair is tucked up in a severe bun, adding to the image of authority, and her eyes are just as icy and blue as her children’s.
“Why do you think, oh genius son of mine?” She nods her chin in my direction. “I want Marnye to have a home away from home, and a place she can come and relax in if she needs space.”
“Yeah, it’s called her bedroom,” Creed drawls lazily, but I can see his hands curling into fists by his sides. He thought he’d won against the other guys by having me stay here. Looks like he was wrong. I smile and he catches my expression with a raised brow before turning back to his mother. “We’ve made up, Mom. We’re friends now.”
Kathleen doesn’t look convinced. Then again, she doesn’t know about the hot tub—and I hope she never finds out.
“Get your stuff together. Billy is sending a car to pick you up in a half hour.”
“I’m staying with the Kaisers?” Creed drawls, narrowing his eyes, and I chuckle.
“Zayd is there all by himself, and Billy would feel more comfortable if he had company. He asked if you could stay, and since I was looking into sending you to the B&B anyway, I agreed. I’ll be sending Kyle to keep an eye on the place as well, so don’t think you won’t have supervision.”
The Envy of Idols Page 2