Page 79 of Cruel Academy (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 2)

J.C.’s mouth drops open as he turns to me. “Bumper? You datedBumper? Oh my God, that explains theHaley Bear.” His lip turns up in disgust. “Ew.”

I nod and, shaking the wooden feeling out of my legs, walk towards the circle of chairs. “Ew, indeed.”

“Bumper,” he says again, shaking his head.

“Can we stop talking about that asshole?” Caleb asks. “I hate the sound of his stupid nickname as much as I hate him.”

“He got it because he ripped a bumper off a car to defend the Hell Princes when he was just a pledge.”

All three Golden Boys turn to me.

“That’s what he told me, anyway,” I add, suddenly nervous. “He said he beat a guy with a bumper and—”

Caleb breaks the silence by doubling forward, hands on his knees, and laughing.

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him laugh. Like, genuinely, deeply laugh. He tries to speak several times before laughter overtakes him again. I look around the circle for an explanation.

“I think Caleb here is laughing because that story is complete and utter bullshit,” Noah says.

“It is?”

Caleb gasps for breath and nods. “Oh my God. Complete bullshit. Bumper got his name because he tripped over his own feet during a fight, fell, and hit his head on a bumper so hard he dented it. He knocked himself out cold.”

“Shut up!” I clap a hand over my mouth, fighting back laughter of my own. “No, he didn’t.”

“He did,” J.C. insists. “Finn heard it from one of the older Hell Prince members a year ago.”

John told me the origin story of his nickname on three separate occasions, at least. Usually, it was to remind me how merciless he could be. He used it as a means to control me, and now I realize it actually worked.

Because after hearing the real story, I’m less afraid of him.

More than ever, I feel like I could actually train and learn how to beat him in a fight should it ever come to that.

“Figures he would lie about it,” Noah says. “He has always been the worst of them. Such an asshole.”

“Such an asshole,” Caleb echoes, taking another long drink from his beer.

I clear my throat. “I’m sorry I caused trouble between you all. I know you were in a truce, so I get if you don’t want me tagging along with you guys anymore …”

J.C. snorts. “Are you kidding? We do not make decisions based on the threats of Hell Princes.”

“The truce is boring, anyway,” Noah adds. “I hate those guys, and if they want to come here and start trouble, let them.”

“’Cause you’ll pull your gun on them again?” J.C. asks, clearly still focused on the fact that Noah had been walking around the campsite with a concealed weapon on him all day.

Noah nods. “On them and anyone else who annoys me enough to deserve it.”

J.C. smirks, knowing the threat is empty, and turns back to me. “You’re the only non-Golden Boy member to ever crash the annual camping trip, so that earns you some basic privileges. If the Hell Princes come calling again, we’ll beat Bumper with a bumper to remind him where he came from.”

Noah and J.C.’s declarations make it feel like I might have actually found my crowd at Ravenlake Prep.

I don’t delude myself into thinking they’ll be my best friends or anything, but just having a few people who would smile at me in the hallways would be a step up.

But while his friends are voicing their support, Caleb stays quiet.

He finishes one beer and another, mostly in silence, and doesn’t make any move to look at me or speak to me the rest of the evening.

When Noah and J.C. start rolling joints, Caleb pulls our tent out of the back of his truck and begins setting it up.

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