Page 103 of Cruel Academy (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 2)

J.C. shakes his head in dismay.

After a few silent minutes, I give up and ask him the question that’s burning in my head.

“Would you stop hanging out with Caleb if you knew he didn’t have money?”

“No,” he says, screwing up his face, taking obvious offense to the question. “But I would have stopped hanging out with him if I’d known he was lying to me for two years. That’s messed up.”

I don’t know whether to be comforted or worried, but there isn’t time to sort it out because the school appears just behind a line of trees and the lot is full.

The fight is about to start.

We don’t have time to delay.

There are so many people slowly making their way towards the front doors that I don’t have time to weave through them and find a spot.

Instead, I throw on the hazards and park in the middle of the lane between two rows of cars.

“Not exactly legal,” J.C. says, slamming the car door shut as we get out.

“What are they doing to do, call the cops to tell them I’m double parked at an illegal underground fighting ring?”

J.C. smiles. “Touché.”

We cut to the front of the line. When the people behind us begin to complain, J.C. charms them with, of all things, a joke about a stripper and a priest.

God, what I wouldn’t give for that kind of charm.

Of course, if the people in line recognized him as a Golden Boy, we’d probably be having a much different conversation.

The password is“Shit the road, Jack,”which J.C. thinks is hilarious. He and the bouncer at the door have a good laugh before I grab his arm and yank him inside.

“So, everyone here knows who Caleb is?” J.C. asks, glancing around the crowded hallway. “This isn’t like aluchadorfight?”

“Do you mean, like, does he wear a mask?” I ask. “No. They know who he is.”

“Why the fuck do they keep his secret, then?”

“Money?” I shrug. “Caleb never loses, and people keep showing up, hoping it will happen. Plus, the police would shut this down if they knew, so the Hell Princes probably think you and Noah would rat them out if you knew about it.”

J.C. acknowledges the logic there with a shrug.

The crowd moves more slowly down the hallway than I’d like it to, but if people aren’t rushing to get through the doors, it means the fight hasn’t started.

Which means there is still time.

The auditorium is stuffy and humid. A few industrial-sized fans have been brought in, but they do little more than stir the hot air. J.C. pinches his shirt away from his chest, fanning himself as he searches the room.

“Caleb isn’t here,” I say just as he turns to me.

“I don’t see him, either.”

For a second, I consider the possibility that Caleb didn’t go through with it. Maybe he did sober up a bit on the thirty-minute ride and realized what an idiot he was being.

The thought should be a relief. But if he did change his mind, it means I revealed his secret to J.C. for no reason at all.

It means I potentially ruined everything between us for nothing.

“I’ll call him,” J.C. says. “He probably won’t answer.”

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