Page 29 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

How Maryann’s opinion of me plays into my mother’s master plans, I don’t know.

What I do know is that my tiny slip up is going to be held up for at least a week as an example of why I’m the biggest disappointment a parent could ever hope to have.

Momma is still raving about my attitude and lack of appreciation for everything she has done for me.

Until the moment we walk through the front door.

“Ooh, that smells good!” she sing-songs, bouncing into the kitchen where Delanie is sitting in a high chair next to the island, flinging milk and cereal across the floor with her spoon.

My stepdad is at the stove top making scrambled eggs.

Stepdad Steve.It sounds like a joke when I call him that, to my friends or whatever. As in,Stepdad Steve was being a total fucking buzzkill last nightorStepdad Steve gave me his credit card to go shopping at the mall. Like this is all fun and games.

But it’s not. Nothing about it is fun. Nothing about him is funny.

I shiver.

The title will never be natural. Just like the change of scent in the house, it will never quite fit in the way I want.

His eggs, however, are more than welcome to be part of the family.

I’m starving.

I toss my yoga mat in the coat closet and kick off my shoes.

I hear Momma’s lips smacking in a sloppy kiss as I pad into the kitchen.

I open the fridge to block the sight and take a long drink from a glass bottle of water.

“Shut the fridge, Penny. Are you trying to cool down the whole house?”

She’s using her pleasant, ‘other people are around’ voice.

But I can hear the tension underneath it.

Why do you have to ruin every single moment of my life?, it says.Why can’t you just disappear?

If I wasn’t so hungry, I’d do just that. Head straight up to my room and stay there until school starts on Monday.

Unfortunately, my body requires sustenance.

“Sorry.”

I spin around and reach for a plate sitting in a stack on the island.

Before I can even touch it, though, my mom clears her throat. I look up and see her green eyes narrowed to slits. She reminds me of a snake eyeing with a mouse before she swallows the poor creature whole.

“I don’t think you need to eat anything, do you, honey?” she coos, her lower lip pouted out innocently. “You ate that whole breakfast sandwich from the coffee shop.”

Vile bitch.

My stomach growls in protest. But there’s nothing to say.

Stepdad Steve is never around during the worst of mom’s behavior. He isn’t an ally of mine, anyway. He made that clear when he showed up despite my many protestations and ruined my life.

And Delanie is two, which makes her an adorable, but ultimately useless, ally.

Even if I call my mom out as a liar, it won’t change anything.

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