Page 63 of Cruel Prep (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 1)

He turns his head slightly, studying me from the corner of his eye. “You think what’s going on up here is normal?”

I shake my head. “I meant, no, I didn’t talk about you today.”

The truth is, I thought about him the entire time, but that isn’t the question he asked.

If he is disappointed, he doesn’t show it. I wish I could hide my emotions as easily as Finn can. It would certainly make my life a whole hell of a lot easier.

“So, you met my mom?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Briefly,” he says. “She is in a meeting right now. About you.”

I stiffen instantly.

“Relax,” Finn says, breaking into my thoughts. “I put in a good word for you. Principal Cooprider is there. They’re discussing what should be done about the graffiti you painted in the locker room.”

“But I already took care of that.”

Finn’s lips press together, the hollows of his cheeks growing more pronounced. “Apparently, Cora’s parents want more to be done as punishment. There was talk of expulsion.”

“What?!”

It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me. I should be thrilled. I hate everything about Ravenlake Prep.

But it’s my mom’s workplace. It’s the reason she is going to be able to get a semi-decent apartment soon. That job is the reason I’ll be able to leave Ravenlake at the end of this year and not look back, knowing she will be okay.

But she won’t be okay if I fuck it all up.

“Relax,” Finn says again, irritation obvious in his voice. “If you were any other student, your parents would make a donation to the library or the arts and all would be forgiven, but since your mom can’t do that, she’s working it out with the administration.”

“But she doesn’t have anything to bargain with.”

“But I do.” Finn is smiling, one eyebrow raised over his glasses. “My family practically built this school. I have a lot of pull around here.”

“Why would—” I shake my head, trying to understand what Finn is telling me, not paying any attention to where he is driving.

Suddenly, the car pulls to a stop, and I look up and see that we are at the back of a large park a few blocks from Dr. Sharon’s office. I’ve come here for a run a few times after my appointments.

But Finn isn’t stopping anywhere near the trail. He’s on the far edge of the park, his car pulled close to the trees that shade the lot from the afternoon sun.

It’s dark in the car. He plucks his sunglasses off his face in one smooth motion and leans back against the headrest.

“He isn’t doing it from the goodness of his heart, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Finn says, breaking the silence. “If he’s helping you, it’s because it’s helping him out more. We Fosters are very selfish.”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

Finn looks up at me and a shared memory moves between us. Our bodies intertwined, connected in ways that feel far too intimate for the tension between us now.

He wasn’t selfish then. Not at all.

My cheeks warm with embarrassment the longer he stares at me, but I want to be bold. If I’ve learned anything being around Finn, it’s that he favors decisiveness. And bravery is often rewarded.

I can’t control his actions, but I can control my response.

With shaky fingers, I unbuckle my seat belt and lean towards him.

Finn doesn’t look surprised or confused or excited, even. His features are schooled into perfect apathy as I press my lips to his.

Kissing and touching Finn reminds me of the electric fence around my grandparents’ farm. There was just enough voltage to give you a good solid zing.

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