English Prep stands tall with its ivy-covered exterior and old, wrought-iron doors. The stone gargoyles sit at the school's entrance, knowing just as much as anyone: I don't belong. Once upon a time, I did. I belonged in the "it" crowd with all the other well-endowed kids, but now, I am no longer welcome.

Tristan Stiles is the bane of my existence. He never wears a shirt. We can’t seem to stop fighting. He’s an arrogant playboy with a filthy reputation. Sure, I had a crush on him when I was fourteen but that was a long time ago. I know better than to trust him. I just need to survive long enough to find a new job and get a new place. And not accidentally let Tristan show me exactly how well-deserved his reputation is.

We were from two completely different worlds: I was molded to follow the rules; I was the good girl living the sheltered life at St. Mary's Boarding School. But fate brought us together. Somewhere along the way, following the rules became a choice. The lines became blurred, and I was given a taste of rebellion in a package of wild blue eyes and hot, lingering touches. Our plan was set. I would escape St. Mary's, and he would stay. Isaiah warned me that we'd go up in flames if we veered from our plan. Except there was no we about it. Isaiah Underwood let me fall right into the ashes.

I met my dream girl. That’s right. She’s stunning and the worst bartender I’ve ever seen. I should have gone home and gone to sleep—dream girl or not. I had an early morning and the season was starting soon. But when she threatened me with boy band karaoke, I couldn't help myself. I went. The stars aligned. I have never felt more alive or wanted anyone more than I want her.

The Sick Boys feed on the order they create. They rule Eastpoint University just as their families have for decades. But their power doesn't stop there. The three of them are heirs to some of the largest fortunes in the world, and behind that kind of wealth lies an underworld of corruption. On the surface, they're perfect princes and he is their king. But underneath it all, they're filled with blood, lies, and secrets. With all of their connections, they have the power to crush anyone who gets in their way. 

I have a type. I love the good guy. Responsible and stable. Safe. So when a beer-drinking, quick-witted, tattooed hockey player asks me to tutor him, I'm suddenly thrust into the world of bad boys and bad decisions. Jordan is a renowned player on campus. He doesn’t take anything seriously, except hockey and partying. But he gives me butterflies. I’m a wallflower tutoring Valley University’s hottest player.

Zanders: Chicago hockey isn't complete without me—everyone's favorite player to hate. I know my role, and I play it well. In fact, I thoroughly enjoy spending the majority of my game time in the penalty box before leaving the arena with a new girl on my arm each night. What I don't like is the new flight attendant on our team's private plane. She works for me, not the other way around. But I'll be sure to remind her of that, and I can guarantee, by the end of the season, she'll be begging to quit her job.

West Golden - so easy to hate, yet so hard to resist. Don’t let that pretty face of his fool you. He isn’t the boy next door, or the kind you trust with your heart. He’s the devil in designer jeans, with all the charm of a bona fide psycho. Trust me. He swears I did something to cross him before I even stepped foot inside Cypress Prep, but it’s a lie. No one knows better than me that I’m all out of chances. His money, status, and the loyalty of his equally entitled brothers makes him seem untouchable. Only, I know better than that.

"Girls like you aren't exactly welcomed at a place like this, so keep your head down and look the other way." Those were the exact words of my social worker when she dropped me in my newest hellhole, a place for "troubled teens". I didn't listen, and now I'm on their radar. Too bad for them, I don't follow rules. Too bad for me, they're determined to make sure I do. Inconceivably attractive and treated like kings...these are the boys of Brayshaw High.

My name is Harper Apple, and people say I’m rotten to the core. When my shot comes in the form of a scholarship to Willow Heights Prep, you can bet your ass I take it. If getting out of this hellhole town means spending my last two years of high school at an elite academy full of rich, entitled pricks, then bring it on.