There’s a faint sound from the direction of the door, but I’m too focused on the brand coming at my face to pay it much attention. The sound of a lock slipping draws Harper’s attention just before the door is kicked in.

Zack is there in an instant, grabbing Harper’s arm and throwing her off the bed so hard that she hits the floor with an unfortunate cracking sound, the hot brand tumbling along with her and smacking into her bottom lip. She screams in pain as the other boys rush the room.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Zack says, grabbing Becky’s wrist and shoving her violently back. Ileana and the others scramble out of the way as Tristan steps in the room and puts his foot flat on Harper’s hand, crushing it to the floor.

I’m still shaking as Zack sweeps me into his arms, tucking me up close against his chest.

“Don’t you dare try to get up,” Tristan warns, pushing down harder on Harper’s hand. The other girls exchange looks, like they can’t decide if they’re going to start a fight with the boys. “Throw a single punch and I’ll break your queen’s hand.”

“Get the hell off of me!” Harper shrieks, but Tristan isn’t going anywhere, that predatory grace of his taking over his limbs, his silver eyes locked on their target.

Creed, Zayd, and Windsor are right behind him, fanning out across the back of the room.

A few seconds later, Myron shows up with Lizzie by his side.

“Are you okay, Marnye?” Zayd asks, panting, his green eyes wide as he takes me in with the shaving cream all over my head and the burn on my arm. I nod. I mean, I could really use some painkillers and aloe vera, but I think I’ll be alright. Oh, and ice. I would kill for a pack of ice right now.

“I’m fine,” I say, my voice shaky and dark with pain. Zayd notices and scowls, giving Becky a look that’s pure, unadulterated hatred.

“You fucking idiots,” Tristan says, leaning his weight forward until Harper screams. “We have video footage of this entire thing. You think I won’t use it?”

“Do you think my parents don’t have any sway over the academy staff?” she shouts back at him. “I’ll get in-school suspension, and a slap on the wrist. This is nothing.” Tristan grinds his heel down and she squeaks with real pain.

“You should go find your boyfriends—and don’t tell me you’re not fucking John and Greg. I have video footage of that, too.”

“Wait, you’re screwing Greg?” Abigail whispers, but nobody acknowledges her.

“What did you do to them?” Valentina asks, wringing her hands. “Where are they?”

“On their way home,” Creed drawls, lounging against the doorjamb with his hands tucked into his pockets. He’s playing the bored Blueblood act, but I can see worry pinching his brow as he glances over at me.

“They were caught sharing unauthorized nude photos of other students all over the school,” Windsor says, cool as a cucumber. He actually looks like he might be having fun. Then again, there’s that darkness behind his eyes he isn’t so good at hiding from me anymore.

“You planted nudes on their phones?” Ileana scoffs, and Windsor turns to look at her with his brows raised.

“No. They already had the nudes. I guess this time, they just sent them out to the whole school on accident. And while Harper might have good enough connections to escape the zero tolerance policy on bullying, Greg and John do not.”

Abigail shoves between Zayd and Creed, taking off down the hall with her heels clacking on the stone.

“Bye-bye, Greg,” Tristan says, giving a derisive little one handed wave. “Bye-bye, John. Oh, unfortunately, John’s father isn’t going to get reelected, so … you can kiss your father’s handpicked future US senator goodbye, too. It’s just a day of bittersweet farewells, isn’t it?”

“He was screwing his secretary’s seventeen year old son,” Zack whispers in my ear, kissing me softly. “Hang them with their own rope, right?” I cling to him, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Don’t forget about Greg’s family,” Windsor says, speaking up.

“Nah, how could we?” Zayd says, getting out a cigarette and lighting up. He saunters into my room and cracks open the bathroom window, planting his boot on the closed toilet lid, so he can smoke. “Not when he media’s having a field day with all those leaked documents. How many illegal foreclosures did they push through in the last decade?”

“You can’t mess with Infinity Club members like that!” Harper snarls as Tristan finally releases her hand, and she scrambles to her feet. He collects the Working Girl brand before she can get hold of it and chucks it into my trash can. “It’s against the rules. That’s what the bets are for. You don’t involve business, politics, or media.”

“We bet you that we could keep Marnye here at Burberry until she graduated. However we have to go about doing that is fair game.”

“We’ll see,” Harper sneers, touching the blister on her bottom lip. It starts to bleed, but I have no sympathy left for her.

She grabs Becky and Ileana by the arms and heads for the door.

“Wait,” I call out, and she actually pauses, turning a poisonous glare on me. I lick my dry lower lip. “Last year, when I was collecting information on all of you … I found out that John has chlamydia. I’m really sorry. At least it’s curable, right?”

Harper’s eyes go wide and she jerks her friends into the hallway. The rest of the girls follow after, and Myron and Lizzie push the door closed.

“Does he really chlamydia?” Zack asks, and I nod.

“He left his notebook lying on the ground during football drills once, and I peeked inside.”

“Good thing you stopped screwing the Blueblood girls during first year,” Creed drawls, giving both Tristan and Zayd looks. “Looks like shit went down after that.”

“Well, I just got my STD results in,” Tristan purrs, and Zayd grins.

“Same, bro. We’re clean.” Zayd flicks his cigarette into the sink, and comes to stand in the room with is hands in his pockets, locking those beautiful emerald eyes with my brown ones. “We didn’t dare touch Marnye until we knew for sure.”

“Game’s on,” Tristan breathes, and then he takes a step toward me, but I don’t remember what happens after that because I’m in so much pain, I just pass out.

The burn on my arm is about the size of an apple, and it’s definitely second-degree, according to the Burberry Prep school nurse. She gives me a scolding about being careful with the iron, calls my dad, and makes me sit there while he fusses over me.

After word about what happened gets around, the attitude in the Plebs shifts. When I walk down the hall, people scramble to get out of my way. If I step onto an elevator, everyone else vacates. And for the time being, nobody sits at the high table but us.

“Harper’s not done yet,” Windsor says, lying back on the grass and looking up at the blue sky. It’s February now, and still technically winter, but today has been beyond beautiful, sunny and bright with hardly a breeze to be felt.

Thank god because I really needed it.

“Not even close,” Tristan says, looking at the checkered blanket and picnic basket like he’s never been on a picnic in his life. Hell, maybe he hasn’t? I cradle my arm against my chest, buried deep in thought. “Because the Plebs are so used to having three female Idols, I’ve put Lizzie and Miranda down as your peers,” he continues, and I lift my head to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

Zayd’s head is in my lap, and I find my fingers unconsciously digging into the lavender-ash color of his hair.

“To me, you’re the only Idol,” Zayd mumbles, and I grin. Miranda and Jessie have started seeing each other again, but Jessie feels uncomfortable acting like a couple in front of me. Seems everyone knows about my bestie’s crush. Maybe I was the last person to find out? And of course, I had to be hit over the head with it.

“Agreed,” Zack says, digging into a bag of pretzels, his eyes on me. “I’m assuming you three are going to be the Idols for the boy’s team?”

Creed rolls his shoulders in a lazy shrug.

“Naturally.”

I don’t look at him. If I do, carnal memories will come pouring out, and sitting on the back lawn with dozens of students situated around the garden is not the place to start getting hot and heavy. Although, someone might want to tell Jasmine May and Chris Sanchez that.

“For the Inner Circle, we have you and Windsor,” Tristan continues, and Zack smirks.

“Naturally,” he mimics, and Tristan gives him a narrowed silver glare in response.

“To fill in the rest of the ranks, I’ll start recruiting from the first years mostly. They weren’t around for Marnye’s bullying, and we’re less likely to end up with a fox in the chicken coop.”

“Like you even know what a chicken coop is,” I tease, and he turns his gray glare on me. There’s a playful edge to it though that makes me smile.

“You were Harper’s fiancée,” Windsor continues, closing his eyes. “Tell me: now that she’s been backed into a corner, and we’ve taken control of the school, what happens next?”