Bright Young Things

nodded. “Catch ya later, Big Poppa.”
For a moment, Chris looked as if he was trying to figure out if Jared was making fun of him or not. Then he grinned. “Sit with us tomorrow, new boy.”
Jared nodded and followed Clare out of the room, then up the stairs where things were blessedly quieter.
“What the fuck just happened?” he asked as they slipped into an enormous bathroom where one guy was sharing a tub with three naked girls. It felt like he’d stepped into an alternate universe. Or maybe back in time. “What the fuck is going on?”
“This,” Clare said, hopping up onto a counter and pulling a tiny ziplock bag from her bra, “is the residence of Christopher Antony Wallace. Also known as Biggie.”
“All right, he shares a name with The Notorious B.I.G.”
“Chris was born on the day Biggie died. He’s convinced he’s the reincarnated soul of the legendary rap musician.”
“What’s he on?” Jared asked.
“’Roids, mostly,” Clare said without missing a beat. “E for funsies. Weed on the weekends. He deals, so if you want anything, hit him up.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jared said drily. “So, what, does Chris run this joint?”
Clare tipped the contents of the bag onto the counter and used her black Amex to shift it into a series of white, powdery lines.
“Chris wishes,” she said with a snort.
Jared was going to ask for more details, but two of the girls started to get out of the bath, and he was forced to look away until they were wrapped in towels big enough to hide things Jared didn’t want to see. When they approached, he took in details. One was incredibly thin with bouncy blonde hair that swirled damply over her shoulders. The other wore her whisky-colored hair in a pixie cut and had boobs that were very not real.
“My associates,” Clare said drily, gesturing to the girls. “Mia Haggerty and Ryder Gorden.”
“Jared, right?” Ryder asked.
Jared kept his eyes firmly on hers. “Yeah.”
“We gotta get out. Torres wants to fuck,” Mia said.
“I am more than fine with that,” Jared mumbled.
Clare slid down off the counter and gestured to the cocaine. “Bump?”
“No, thanks.”
“Girls?”
Jared elected to wait outside, finishing his drink then throwing the cup over the banister to land on the head of one of the dancing kids below. They didn’t even notice.
“Jared,” Ryder cooed as she came out of the bathroom, sniffing. “Come with us.”
With nothing better to do, he followed the girls he’d started to think of as the three witches.
In an upstairs bedroom, Ryder and Mia dropped their towels and started to dress, forcing Jared to once again avert his eyes. Clare watched from the end of the bed, her eyes flashing in silent amusement.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said sensually.
“Oh, honey. So gay,” Jared said, deciding to get it out of the way before anyone asked. He was way, way out of the closet and had no intention of going back in again. Not even for this group of psychopathic rich kids. “So very, very gay.”
Clare laughed. “I know. If I hadn’t already heard, your reaction to Ryder’s fake tits was enough to confirm the rumors.”
“Hey,” Ryder said, clearly offended. “My tits are awesome.”
“I’m sure they are, darling,” Jared said, hoping to calm her. “I’m thinking,” he added, answering Clare, “that you’re all batshit fucking crazy.”
“You’d be right,” she said simply. “Wanna play with the big boys?”
“Always.”
Mia grinned, her eyes lighting up from more than a simple coke high.
“You asked who runs this place,” Clare said. “And it’s quite easy, really. Chris might hold court, but Adam will want your ass.”
“I have no idea who Adam is, let alone any intention of letting him anywhere near my ass.”
“You will,” Ryder said. “They all say that to start with, then they all give in.”
“Who is he?”
Mia sighed. “Adam is… well, his mother is the queen of New Harbor, and his grandfather was the ruling king until he died a few years back and left his millions to his sole surviving grandson. Hemlock senior owned most of the businesses in this town. If you live here, you can pretty much guarantee Adam owns you. If not your ass, then your land. Or your parents. Or the fucking school.”
“What does he have to do with me?” Jared said crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against a dresser.
“Nothing,” she said dismissively. “Except for the fact that you’re fresh meat. We don’t get a lot of out, gay, fresh meat around here.”
“He’s gay?”
“So very, very gay,” Ryder said mockingly.
“Wait up. Top dog in this freaking island town is a gay dude? Bullshit.”
“Welcome to the twenty-first century, asshole,” Mia said scathingly.
“The problem with losing your V card at fourteen,” Clare said, interrupting, “is that by the time you get to your senior year, you’ve fucked everyone worth fucking. Sometimes twice. Adam is gonna take one look at the new, hot, gay guy who just moved here and will want his piece of you.”
“So what? If I like him, I’ll fuck him.”
“Uh, uh, uh,” Ryder said disapprovingly, shaking her head. “Adam doesn’t get fucked, baby. He fucks.”
“Right now he’s in Seattle,” Mia added. “He can’t get any decent tail in this town, so he drove an hour to get into a club with his fake ID.”
“Here’s the thing,” Clare said, her expression hardening as she leaned forward on her elbows. “You might have figured out by now that I know you. I know where you lived, I know who your friends were, I know what your GPA was at your last school. I know you got into the Academy on a scholarship because the fees for one semester cost more than what your mother makes in a year.”
“My mother does charity work,” Jared said acidly.
She shrugged. “Whatever. I know your sisters are at Sarah Lawrence. I know you moved in with an aunt who spends more of her time in Cali and Vegas than Washington. I know you’re not likely to get into an Ivy League