Wealth, status, and beauty define the elite of Kensington Prep. Every one of them possesses the ability to get away with anything and everything they want, unscathed and remain as privileged and superior as ever.
But Amory Scout decides that tim...
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That same Halloween party Orson and I kissed for the first time also happened to be the day Helena Marx decided to announce her return to the Upper East Side. And return she did with a bang.
Coasting up the marble floors of Luciana's open space living room is Helena in black suede knee-high boots with skinny four-inch heels and a full-body leather catsuit that enhances every curve and edge of her body, courtesy of Jean Paul Gaultier. As her dark curls bounce behind her, the crowd stares at her in utter shock. Her soft brown eyes are marked with remnants of gold glitter, which are more pronounced with the flick of black eyeliner over her lids.
"Holy shit," Orson mutters beside me. Remembering that I'm supposed to have no idea who Helena is, I look at him quizzically. He put his hand on the back of my neck. Tingles run up my spine. My bloodred lips sizzle at the phantom of his kiss. He guides me over to the VIP section, where everybody's looking over to Helena.
Luciana's Halloween party is one of the school's year biggest events. What better place for Helena to shake up the scene with her debut back to high society? And with the latest dirt I've dug up on Luciana in Helena's clutches, she's the perfect messenger to deliver it.
"Where have you been?" Luciana says when she sees me arrive back to the VIP table with Orson trailing behind me. Her lips tighten when she notices his hand on my back and her eyes narrow at my dress, most especially at the undone side zipper, revealing half of my lacy black strapless bra.
"Your boob's hanging out," she growls at me, pointing.
I pretend to be embarrassed about it- quickly looking down, folding my arms over my chest, and zip my dress up.
"She's back. How is she back?" Parker hiss at Carmen- argument momentarily is forgotten- but Carmen shush her, eyes frozen on Helena as she glides her way to the bar. Despite the insane music blaring over the speakers, I could catch snippets of people's shocked reactions over Helena Marx's appearance.
"Is that Helena Marx? I thought her dad is like in jail or something," Katherine whisper to her friends, her fingers frantically moving over her phone's keyboard to broadcast the news to all of her four hundred followers on Twitter.
"Yeah, I heard too. And doesn't she look fucked? I think she's been thoroughly fucked. Maybe she had some sort of prostitution ring going on up there, that's how she manages to come back to New York and pay for tuition."
"No way, I think she joined a cult or something. And she sacrificed somebody so she'll never run out money."
This is all so ridiculous, I think as I march to Carmen's side. "What's happening?"
"Orson, what the fuck? You told me she'll never come back," Aidan's grip over his whiskey sour tighten as he glances from Orson to Carmen. "Did you know about this? That she'll be back?"
Carmen stares back at him blankly, her small, fox-like face pale as a ghost. "I..." She's speechless.
"Hey guys," Helena Marx says loudly as she walks towards the VIP section, carrying a saffron martini. "How are you?"
