Stuck With The Four Hotties

Finding out that I was just a bet to Zack is … well, it’s devastating. I’m a zombie for weeks, going through the motions, focusing on my schoolwork and my harp. Nothing else matters. It hurts too much to think about what he did to me. What Lizzie did to me.

And the Idols … they’re still being nice to me, still acting like they want me, but … they had to know how much that revelation would hurt, right? Yet, they did it anyway.

Still, it’s hard to stay mad at them. Zayd is always charming, popping into my room at random times, flopping down on my bed and joining me for TV night without ever saying a word.

My tutoring sessions with Creed are tense, but in a good way. That spark between us burns hot, whether we’re doing math, or working on essays side by side. Every time he touches me, I can feel it, a rush of heat that infuses every molecule in my body.

Tristan … he’s a lot harder to get a read on. But he does sometimes sit in on my orchestra practice, watching me play the harp with those blade gray eyes of his. I always play better when he’s in the room, like just knowing that he’s listening is a boon to my creativity.

Miranda and Andrew definitely notice the change in my behavior, and call me out on it.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Miranda asks as the three of us sit together in The Mess eating yet another meal I can’t pronounce. It’s

good, it’s just … in a language I definitely don’t speak. This week’s menu is food from around the world. It’s educational, at the very least.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say as I pick at my food with my fork and then glance up to see the two of them staring at me skeptically. “What? I’m not doing anything but hanging out with them.” And wearing an eighty-thousand dollar neFklaFe, and skinny dipping, and making out, and- “The Idols don’t just hang out,” Andrew says, sighing. “They divide and they conquer. The fact that they’ve all set their sights on you worries me. If you ask me, they’re up to no good.” He exchanges a look with Miranda that I can’t read, and the mystery of what they’re up to together starts to get to me.

So much so that the next time they try to sneak off together, I follow them.

I don’t intend on doing any true sleuthing, I don’t have to. Just keeping a safe distance behind them as they walk through the rear courtyard and meet up with some friends in the trees is enough.

The first thing I notice is that Miranda and her new girlfriend take off in one direction, while Andrew and his male friend go the other way.

I decide to stick with Miranda.

What I don’t expect to see when I round the corner of the hedges is the two of them lip-locked, their arms around each other, fingers grasping. They’re both panting, kissing like they can’t get enough of each other, and it all clicks in the place.

Miranda isn’t dating Tristan, and she’s not dating Andrew either. Miranda is … gay.

I turn away and take off before they notice me spying on them, but honestly, I feel a sense of relief. I was expecting the worst, like a hidden pregnancy or something, but this is … this isn’t even noteworthy. In a good way, I mean. Like I said, I’m a fierce LGBT ally.

For the next few days, I keep things cool, normal. But now that I know, the way Miranda acts makes a whole lot more sense.

Before I tell Creed, however, I decide to confront Tristan.

“You knew didn’t you?” I ask him, planting my hands on my hips and staring down at him as he sits on one of the stone benches in the courtyard and scrolls on his phone. Tristan lifts his gray eyes up to mine, and I find myself licking my lower lip without even meaning to. One look from him and I melt.

“Oh? So you finally figured it out?” he asks me, scooting over and patting the spot next to him on the bench. If this was anyone else, that’d be a

harmless gesture, and I’d just sit. But with Tristan, there’s so much more to it. I’m afraid to sit that close to him.

“Is there a reason you didn’t want Creed to know?” I ask, cocking my head to one side. “He thinks you and Miranda are sleeping together, you know that?” Tristan shrugs his shoulders, but his eyes land on the necklace that he gave me, and I reach up to touch it without thinking.

“No reason. It just wasn’t any of my business.” He stands up, and takes a step forward, towering over me. His fingers reach up and brush along the side of my jaw, a smirk taking over his lips when I shudder. “But it is yours. You and Creed had a bet.”This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Tristan cups my face and leans down. For a second there, I think he’s going to kiss me again, but instead he just puts his lips right up against mine, so I can feel it when he talks.

“That girl she was making out with, that’s Jessie Maker. Her parents are Evangelical Christians, they won’t be happy with the news.” Tristan runs his tongue across my lower lip, and then steps back. The absence of his body makes me feel cold.

“Is this going to hurt either of them, me telling Creed?” I look into Tristan’s eyes, but he just shrugs. I sigh, but it looks like I’m going to be on my own with this one. It was my arrogance that got me into this mess after all. I should’ve stopped playing poker after I’d won the first round. Lesson learned.

Tristan brushes past me, making sure his fingers linger on the back of my hand before he moves away.