Page 46 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

When Noah came to the wake, there was no more pretending. The two realities I’d built for myself had collided in a way I wasn’t ready for.

So, I’d artfully dodged him, keeping at least one room of distance between us at all times. As if that would bring my dad back to life. As if that would make Momma love me.

Then, when he left, I went up to my room and stared at the wall.

I waited for the tears to come. For any kind of emotion to surface.

But there was nothing.

I couldn’t access it.

That emptiness was much worse than crying would have been, so I walked to Noah’s house, knocked on his door.

That’s where I am now. Weeping openly in his arms like a crazy person.

“You aren’t crazy,” Noah whispers.

I’m not sure if I’ve spoken out loud or he is reading my mind, but I cling to his words like a raft.

We sit there for a while, tangled in each other’s arms, before I hear a car door open outside.

Noah stiffens.

“My parents are back,” he whispers, leaning in close so his lips brush against my cheek. “Do you want to go upstairs? They won’t bother us up there.”

I’m not in a state to see anyone else or go home, so I nod and let Noah lead me upstairs.

My black dress was pressed and crisp when I left the house, but the hem is rumpled now. I run my fingers along it as I sit on the edge of Noah’s bed, waiting. He goes downstairs to talk to his parents, to ensure they wouldn’t come up to his room to check on him.

I think about how I don’t have “parents” anymore.

I have a parent—singular. One who doesn’t even like me very much.

The thought brings a fresh wave of tears.

When Noah comes back into the room, my gaze is watery and unfocused.

“I’m so sorry, Penny.” Noah grabs my hand and massages his thumb over my knuckles. “I want to help.”

“You are,” I manage, my throat thick with tears.

Eventually, we lay down on his bed. Noah pulls his comforter over me, but he stays on top of the blankets, close enough that I can reach out and touch him when I want.

I know he must be bored, sitting with me while I cry off and on, but I’m too selfish to get up and leave.

I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to see my mom.

By now, she’s probably wondering where I am, and she’ll be angry when I get back.

She’ll find new ways to insult me and kick me even when I’m already down.

I can’t handle that right now.

For as long as possible, I want to stay with the only person still living who has ever made me feel worthwhile.

I must doze off because when I open my eyes, the room is dark.

I sit up quickly, the blankets falling around my waist, and look around, blinking into the darkness.

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