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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Miami is so searing hot that when the private touches down, the asphalt of the plane runway is soft, soft enough to write your names in it. The streets are practically frying as my python pumps step onto it and the sun blinds me even though my eyes are hiding behind a pair of neon-green tiny round sunglasses from Poppy Lissiman.
I'm glad I got myself spray-tanned because as the Rolls Royce we ordered to take us to the hotel pulls up to the private airport's runway, I catch my reflection staring back at me on the car's tinted windows and admire how my newly-bronze skin is looking against the skinny white Seven shorts and the matching cropped Moschino vest. Luciana notices me looking at myself on the car doors and snorts quietly to herself beside me. I send her a bitchy look and kiss Orson on the cheek. The smug look wipes off her face.
"Spring Break and Ultra, here we go!" Hanif screams, popping a cork of champagne. To really set the mood, Hanif looks even more ready to party in a neon Off-white distressed t-shirt and denim biker shorts.
Luciana squeals, her screams piercing my ears; she looks beyond excited. "Give me that!" She grabs the massive bottle of Dom and begins to pour the foamy liquid down her throat.
The bottle is passed around the group as we all pile into the fleet of Rolls Royces parked outside of the private airport. An attendant takes my two LV duffle bags and dumps them into the boot.
"Babe," Orson smirks at me, grabbing me by the buttcheek.
"Stop!"
He's still smirking as he shoves the bottle in my hand. "Do yourself a favor and help yourself."
I roll my eyes but I gladly take it from him. I gulp it down in two big swallows, the foam spilling from my lips. Orson bends down, his tall frame meeting my much smaller one to lick the white liquid off my lips. I do not miss the burning jealousy in Luciana's eyes when her gaze skims Orson kissing my soft lips and I am sure to deepen the kiss with Orson until she looks away, sick with disgust and want.
Luciana looks disgruntled and yet shocked at this development with Orson and I, my burgeoning popularity, and my position welcomed in this hierarchy. She still remembers me as the mysterious Californian new girl, a nobody in society's pages, the underdog, like a little non-threatening puppy running around the jungle with the lions- throw some kibble at it, watch it dance on its little leash, oh quite cute, it definitely won't kill me in the night.
And when she was shipped off to Connecticut, I took the six months of her absence to dethrone Carmen, ensnare Orson and deepen Parker's loyalty to me. Think about it: You were top shit of the private school rings; you were little Miss Princess Trust Fund, doing your best Diana act and adopting the new girl, only for New Girl to usurp everything in your downfall.
It must not feel good.
With Spring Break and Ultra descending upon Miami, the streets we drive past are full of college students flocking to the beach in bikinis and board shorts, showing tanned, toned bodies running to the golden coast and blue horizon. The funniest thing about Miami, I observe from the cooling atmosphere of the Rolls Royce, is that the guys all wear slider sandals with black or white socks on the beach even though it's so hot out. Though, no matter the hottest college girls, no one can compare to the way the Elite do Miami.
