Chapter 14

“Forget him,” Miranda says, shoving a Solo cup at me. Wow. Solo cups, the universal key to getting drunk, no matter what socio-economic class. “Have a drink, and let’s go dip our feet in the water.” She slips her designer heels off and chucks them next to the table, much the same way as that redheaded girl. Even Miranda, as nice as she is, has no idea the level of privilege she exists in. The price of those shoes could feed and house a family in Lower Banks for an entire month. Maybe more. No, no, definitely more.

Forcing a smile to my face, I follow after her, noticing that Creed is lounging in the sand near the bonfire with a captive audience. His eyes meet mine from across the beach, but there’s no hatred there. There’s not even acknowledgment. Like, I’m so far below him, he doesn’t even feel the need to admit to my existence.

At least I don’t see Tristan anywhere, I think, exhaling a small sigh of relief. Unfortunately, that relief doesn’t last long because Harper, B