Page 5 of Cruel Prep (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 1)

Still, the cigarettes feel like a test, and I don’t want to fail. So, I nod and accept one. The boy lights it for me, his eyes watching the flame as it tongues the tip. When it catches, he licks his lips and takes a long puff of his own cigarette, blowing the smoke in my face.

“You’re new,” he comments.

I roll my eyes. Not this again.

When I don’t answer, the boy blows out another puff of smoke and leans back against the metal stair railing. “Bold of you to pick a seat in Loser Land on your first day.”

I look around. The guy is right.

The rest of the student body has come out for lunch period, and—not to judge books by their covers—the handful of kids who’ve chosen seats over on this grassy slope don’t exactly measure up to the boy who scared me in the hallway. They’re a little grungier, a little angstier. Not nearly as arrogant and confident. Clearly a tier below.

“I wasn’t given much of a choice,” I admit.

The boy nods and exhales another cloud of smoke. “We’re a better pick than the Golden Boys, anyways,” he says.

I frown. “The Golden Boys?”

“Oh, that’s cute. Real naïve. You won’t last long like that, though.”

“Are you going to keep being an asshole, or are you going to explain what the hell you’re talking about?”

Instead of explaining, he jabs his cigarette across the lawn. I follow it to see a group of guys lounging around a picnic table in the sunlight.

One is tall, pushing six-three, but skinny, whereas the one next to him is broad and muscly. The tall one has short-cropped hair, a long nose, and is dressed in name brand from head-to-toe—athletic pants, shoes, and shirt. He looks like a walking advertisement.

The stockier boy is much more fashion-forward with a pair of jeans rolled at the ankles, leather boots, and a white T-shirt half tucked into his waistband. His skin is deeply tanned and I can tell he whitens his teeth even from a distance. They practically glow in the sunlight.

The group erupts in more laughter just as the two boys in front part, letting a third boy through. As soon as he steps into view, I gasp.

It’s the boy from before.

In the sunlight, he looks even more unreal. His dark hair has a blue sheen, and I can make out the full shape of his lips. His face looks just as chiseled as it did in the shadows, though, and I realize that is just his face. It wasn’t a trick of the light. This boy really looks like he is made from marble.

“Those,” my new friend drawls, “are the Golden Boys. Finn and his fuck buddies.”

I make the connection immediately. I don’t know how I missed it before.

Finn. As in, Finn Foster. Son of William Foster.

Fuck.

“Like you’re any better, Dallas?” comes a new voice, acidic and cutting.

I shade the sun out of my eyes and look up to see a girl standing in front of us, one hip jutted out to the side. She has on skintight jeans and a dangerously low-cut T-shirt. Her hair is bright red and falls around her shoulders in movie-star curls, and her frowning mouth is painted the same color red.

“Fuck off, Cora,” Dallas snarls right back at her.

“Why don’t you eat a dick?” she spits at him.

He sighs, stubs out his cigarette, and stands up. “Time to make my exit. Nice to meet you, new girl. Be careful of those assholes. Be careful of this bitch, too.” He nods at Cora. “Everyone in this school is a fucking snake.”

Then he saunters away, the patch of a horned devil on the back of his jacket gleaming in the Texas sun.

The girl who just came up, Cora, leans against the stairway railing and smiles at me. “Thought you might need some rescuing,” she says pleasantly.

I blink. It’s the first kind voice I’ve heard all day. “Oh,” I say softly. “Thanks.”

She sinks to a seat next to me. “Besides, I wanted to meet the new girl. Nothing interesting ever happens here. I’ve been going to school with the same kids since kindergarten. When someone new shows up, we notice.”

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