Page 30 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

Not in a meaningful way, at least.

Sure, maybe I’ll get to eat some scrambled eggs and toast right now. But as soon as my mom and I are alone again, she’ll dream up an even worse punishment for making her look ridiculous in front of my stepdad.

She’ll be ten times angrier than she was with Maryann. Because Maryann doesn’t pay her bills.

Maryann doesn’t ensure she gets her quarterly botox and her hair dyed and her body waxed smooth and hairless.

Today at the yoga studio, I threatened a microscopic section of my mom’s social life, and she’s taking away a meal.

How much worse will it be if I threaten her male-shaped coin purse?

I swallow down my pride and smile, pulling my hand back. “Right,” I wince. “Guess I forgot.”

I go upstairs, shaking from hunger. Then I shower off the sweat and shame.

Long after I’m clean, I stand in the stream of water and take deep, shaking breaths, waiting for them to even out.

Waiting for the air to fill me up and take away the gnawing ache in my stomach.

Looking back at my life, I can’t pinpoint the exact moment things changed.

Had they always been like this? Certainly not.

If they had been, I’d be dead by now. No way I would have been able to survive it.

As it is, I only have one more semester left of my demons. Of Momma, the Hell Princes, and Noah Boone.

One more semester, and then I’m gone for good.

If I can survive that long.

12

Noah

The first day of a new semester school pep rally.

Yet another pointless Ravenlake Prep tradition.

“My mom already sent them a check. What more do they want from me?” I ask, flopping down on the front row of the bleachers.

Usually, I’d choose a seat towards the back, but I want to make a clean exit at the first possible moment.

These things suck. I avoid them whenever possible.

Sophomore year, I skipped the spring semester rally in favor of making out with Krista Sanders on the tennis courts.

Last year, Finn and I smoked a joint in the parking lot

The only reason I’m here now is because of Caleb and Haley.

“It’s our last one,” Haley says, making puppy dog eyes and squeezing Caleb’s arm. “Gotta enjoy high school while it lasts, right?”

Principal Cooprider taps her hand on the microphone and calls order before I can respond.

The students milling around rush to their seats.

And as the crowd parts, I see her.

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