Page 112 of Cruel Academy (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 2)

J.C. gasps. “You’re a pothead? I’m shocked.”

Noah rolls his eyes. “Don’t change the subject. Caleb being an underground fighter is the big news today. Like, what the fuck, dude?”

“He didn’t want us to know he was poor.” J.C. reaches out and lays a hand on my shoulder. “Being poor is far from your worst quality, Caleb. I mean, if we’re getting specific here, you’re an asshole. That’s the most detestable thing about you.”

“It’s true,” Noah agrees. “If we were going to stop being your friends, it would be because of your personality, not your bank account.”

I bark out a laugh. “Wow. Thanks for that.”

J.C. shrugs. “No problem. But maybe you should remember that when I’m buying your pot from now on, you know? Like, maybe try laughing at my jokes now and again.”

“That’s never going to happen, either.”

J.C. frowns, but Noah, in an unusual show of companionship, throws his arms around our shoulders and starts walking towards the looming shape of Ravenlake Prep.

“Agreeable or not, we’ll take care of your poor ass, Caleb. Just don’t lie to us anymore.”

It feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest.

Like I can breathe for the first time in days.

Though in the back of my head, even as Noah shrugs out of our manly embrace and J.C. teases him for letting his emotions show for a minute, I can’t help but think that Haley was right all along.

My friends aren’t mad at me. They didn’t abandon me. They didn’t turn on me.

She told them the truth and everything isn’t ruined.

In fact, it might even be better.

42

Haley

Even though I called Caleb a coward, on Monday morning, I’m the coward.

I can’t find it in me to get out of bed and go to school.

I can’t find it in me to walk past Caleb, knowing he hates me.

Knowing we’ll never talk or kiss or touch again.

We weren’t even dating, and I know that. I know our friendship was built on secrets and lies and blackmail, but I’m still going to miss it.

I’ll miss J.C. and Noah, too.

I’d come to think of them as my pack. Even though I swore to myself I wouldn’t get attached, now I can’t imagine what life at Ravenlake Prep will look like without seeing them between classes.

So, I don’t want to have to think first thing on a Monday. Reworking your social circle and making new friends is not the kind of work any human is ready for on a Monday morning. It will wait until Tuesday.

Thus, I fake being sick.

It works for a little while. Unfortunately, my mom isn’t content to let me live in denial for twenty-four hours.

Late Monday afternoon, she knocks on my door and then slips into my room, closing the door behind her.

“Is everything okay in here?”

I hum my assent and try to focus on the reality TV show playing on my laptop. It’s a show about attractive young adults who are randomly assigned to work on the yachts of the rich. It’s absurd and distracting and surprisingly addicting.

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