Page 60 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

She gives me a faux worried glance and then turns away as class starts. In the back of my mind, I wonder if you can sweat out toxic people, too. That would be handy.

The class is even worse than I imagined.

The exercise I usually find calming and centering is now suffocating. I feel like I’m being swallowed in heat.

My head is foggy, my limbs feel swollen, and no matter how many times I blink, my vision feels blurred.

Sweat pours down my forehead and the back of my head, drenching my ponytail. In a few positions, I swear I can even feel my saturated clothes squelch and drip sweat onto the floor.

When the routine is finally over, I’m ready to run to the locker room and peel out of my clothes, but my mom stops me and points to Maryann on the other side of the room.

I’ve been so focused on not passing out that I didn’t even notice Maryann.

“Go apologize to her.”

“Mom.” My voice sounds weak and raspy. “I don’t feel good. I don’t think—”

“I think I’m going to take your change of clothes and leave you to walk home if you don’t do as I say.”

If my legs didn’t feel like Jell-o, walking home wouldn’t be so bad. The temperature is in the mid-fifties and at least I’d be by myself.

As it is, I can barely walk across the room.

I need the ride.

Maryann is rolling up her mat when I walk over on trembling knees. She looks up and smiles, concern flashing in her eyes. “Penelope! You and your mother aren’t usually at hot yoga, but we’re happy to have you.”

I swallow down a rising lump in my throat. “It was fun. A different experience.”

“I enjoy it. I can’t keep up with some of the vigorous exercises you young people do, so this is how I get a good sweat in.”

Maryann dabs at her neck with a towel and seems to take a good look at my outfit for the first time.

Her brow wrinkles. “I might suggest wearing a few less layers next time you come, though. I’m surprised you didn’t faint.”

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out.

My tongue feels dry and swollen, and everything seems to turn on an axis.

Faintly, I hear someone shout something, but the sound comes to me as if I’m underwater. I don’t even try to swim to the surface. I close my eyes and sink readily into darkness.

* * *

I feel a hand on my face and open my eyes to see Noah standing over me.

Not the Noah from the bathroom today.

Young Noah.

The Noah who held me while I cried and tenderly brushed tears from my face.

He’s cradling me now, a hand cupping my cheek. “You’ll be okay, Penny.”

I sink into his embrace, ignoring the dark part of my mind that warns this could be a trap.

Even in my own head, I’m afraid of being tricked, fooled. I can’t even trust my own hallucinations.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

---