“You ate an edible?” Tristan asks, blinking at me. “You did?”

“Yeah, so?” I shrug, trying to look cool. People are staring at me like maybe I am, tucked in a hot tub between one naked guy and another who … I look down and there’s this brief moment where the bubbles part, and I swear it’s like a pre-destined moment designed to show off Tristan’s cock.

Oh.

Oh my.

I lounge back in my lingerie and run my tongue over my teeth to make sure there aren’t any lipstick smudges. Windsor, Zack, and eventually Creed and Miranda join us. Creed is desperately trying to wrangle his drunk sister, but I’d rather she sit on the edge of this hot tub than run off into the heat of the party.

Lizzie stares at me like she’s never seen me before.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Tristan murmurs, smirking and giving Zayd a look. “I take it this is your doing?”

“Might’ve had a little help from Creed,” Zayd says with a shrug, lighting up a joint with a lighter he pulled from his discarded pants’ pocket. He takes a puff and passes it to Windsor. The prince takes two puffs and continues passing. Zack is the only one who declines.

“Drug testing blows,” he says, shaking his head. “And if all goes right these next few games, I’ll be scouted for … a university.” He trails off and looks away, face tight, like he’s deep in thought about something. He’s taken his shirt off and climbed in wearing his shorts. I swear to god, he’s got the widest, sexiest chest I’ve ever seen. It’s pretty obvious he’s a hardcore athlete.

“We’re poisoning Marnye, slowly but surely,” Creed murmurs, grabbing onto Miranda’s arm when she tries to wander off again. She glares at him and takes another swig of her champagne.

“Poisoning her, huh?” Lizzie says with a smile, resting a hand on Tristan’s shoulder. He stiffens up and his face goes very still, but she doesn’t seem to notice. It makes me afraid to touch him. Does he not want to be touched at all? Or maybe … he just doesn’t want to be touched by her? I can’t tell. I can’t tell! And it’s freaking killing me. “How so?”

“That’s a secret, and not for you to know,” Zayd says with a smirk, and I see that cruel streak of his rising to the surface. Lizzie stares him down, narrowing her eyes slightly, and I remember the story about her dating all the boys one fateful summer. Surely that was just a sweet junior high crush sort of a thing, right?

Lizzie opens her mouth to speak when Zayd’s green eyes lift up and widen. His mouth tightens into a flat line.

“Boys, we’ve got trouble.” He shoves up and out of the hot tub, his dick shimmering with warm water and bumping against my elbow. I almost scream, but like, in a good way. Pretty sure the edible is setting in. I feel lightheaded and giddy, like I want to laugh at everything.

“Trouble?” I echo, way too slow. Windsor is up, too. Even Tristan is standing up and whipping a towel around his body so quickly that I don’t see a thing.

I glance over and find Harper, Becky, and Ileana standing beside the hot tub. They’ve got a full crew behind them, too.

My list flashes in my mind, like it’s been burned into my brain.

Revenge On The Bluebloods of Burberry Prep

A list by Marnye Reed

The Harpies: Harper du Pont, Becky Platter, and Ileana Taittinger

The Company: Abigail Fanning, Valentina Pitt, Mayleen Zhang, Jalen Donner, and Kiara Xiao

They’re all here, every last one of them, and then some. They’ve recruited plenty of new students, hungry for a view from the top.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house? This is most definitely not an Infinity Club party. Get the hell out.”

“Your door security could use some fortifying,” Harper says, her hair long and luxurious, fresh extensions in a juicy bloodred color trailing over her shoulders. She’s not the only one: all the girls are sporting either wigs or extensions again. They’re like dandelions, getting trampled down and springing right back up. “We’re here because we’re making a stand.”

“Is that so?” Tristan asks, voice cool and even. I see his hands quivering as he struggles to keep from balling them into fists.

“Quiet, Working Boy,” Harper snaps, her voice commanding authority as she sneers at Tristan. “We weren’t happy with one charity case at our school and now we have two? What are you trying to do, cheapen the reputation of the academy so the rest of us suffer?”

“Oh, but darling, you’ve already done that.” Tristan folds one arm over his middle, resting the elbow of the other in the palm of his hand, so he can gesture at her with long, elegant fingers. “Your decorum is poor, your breeding substandard, and quite frankly, you’re a dumb bitch that nobody likes. If you consider yourself one of the best at the academy, then the great reputation of Burberry Prep is already suffering.”

Harper sneers at him and steps forward, but Zayd cuts her off.

“Get the hell off my property,” he snarls, his towel sliding down his hips. It’s about to fall completely off. I scramble up and out of the water to fix it for him. He shivers when my fingers brush his hips, but his eyes never leave the Harpies and their new Company of popularity slaves. Jalen, the last remaining guy, has been joined by a good half-dozen fourth years that I vaguely remember seeing around campus.

“Oh, we will. Trust me.” Harper narrows her eyes on me, but I just stand up straight and put my hands on my hips, dripping wet and wearing lingerie. I don’t even care. Take a fucking picture. “I just wanted to stop in and let you all know that we do not accept the new status quo. If you think this year at the academy is going to be easy, you have another thing coming.”

“And if you think,” I start, stepping forward and cutting off several of the boys as they start to argue, “that I’m going to allow bullying at my school, you have got a rude awakening coming your way.”

“Your school, huh?” Harper asks, and the way she looks at me, I can tell she’s playing for keeps this time. She wants me out of the academy, out of her life, out of her way. And she wants to crush me in the process. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

She hair flips (yes, expertly so) and then saunters off, taking a good portion of the Burberry students behind her. Not as many as I’d feared, but enough that I can’t quite write her off as a threat just yet.

“I’m gonna fucking kill those security guards,” Zayd growls, but I curl my arms around his bicep and draw his attention down to me.

“Don’t let them bother you,” I tell him, mouth pursed tight. “They’ll hang themselves with their own rope. We just have to wait.”

The boys exchange cryptic glances that have me wondering what the hell went on at that Infinity Club meeting. Whatever it is, if their expressions are anything to go by, I should be terrified.

Only … I’m not.

I’m not afraid of Harper or any other bully for that matter.

Not anymore.

“Come on.” I drag Zayd back to the hot tub, and the others follow.

By the time the edible really hits me, the Harpies are long gone.

I end up in a bed with Creed on one side and Zayd on the other. The music downstairs is still throbbing away, but the sheets feel so good beneath me, and I can’t seem to stop laughing.

“You are so high,” Creed says, but then he grins because he’s high, too. Zayd is watching us from the other side, his head propped in his inked hand. His Never Again tattoo is visible on the side of his neck, and I feel compelled to reach out and touch it, just to see if the ink feels as nice as it looks.

“Mm,” Zayd purrs as my hand slides up the side of his neck. He leans in for a kiss, and I swear, I’ve never felt anything quite like his mouth on mine. He tastes just enough like danger to be enticing, but also like surety. I’m positive Zayd is here for me now, really and truly. I don’t think he ever wanted to be anywhere else.

“You taste good,” I tell him as Creed rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. This is the first time I’ve ever really been intimate with one boy while another was close by. It’s … exciting.

“Do I?” Zayd asks, getting this cocky look on his face that makes me squirm. I’m still dressed in my lingerie and nothing else. It’s dry now, but my hair still feels damp. The lead singer of Afterglow reaches out and curls his fingers in my hair, teasing the rose-gold strands and then leaning down for another kiss, one that goes much deeper, our tongues tangling.

Next to us, Creed slides his hand in his swim shorts and groans, sending a hot flush through me that I don’t quite know what to do with. I’m still pretty new at this whole sex thing. I mean, a few times with Creed and a few times with Zack does not an expert make.

Zayd runs his inked hand down my side, over the curve of my waist, resting his palm lightly on my hip. Every place he touches screams with pleasure, and I realize Creed was right: I feel ten times as sensitive now as I did when I was completely sober.