Page 64 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

I’ve never told anyone about wanting to perform.

Even when I was learning to play guitar, I said it was just a hobby.

I never told my dad I imagined standing on a stage in front of a crowd.

I never told anyone that was the only future I’d ever imagined for myself.

They probably wouldn’t have believed me even if I did admit it. I never auditioned for a musical, I never joined band or orchestra, and I hardly ever spoke in front of crowds.

But, for me, there’s a difference.

I don’t want to simply perform. I want to play guitar. In a band. Arealband.

“No reason.”

I hold out my box of Milk Duds. Mom steals a few, chewing on them for the next ten minutes as the movie plays.

As one musical turns to another, she adds a few more glugs of alcohol to her drink and slouches a bit further down in her seat.

She isn’t making quite as many comments about the movie, and when she does, her words are a little slurred.

I know our time together is running short.

By intermission, her eyes are closed.

I reverse out of the lot and start heading home.

It was fun while it lasted.

* * *

The drive-in is in the middle of nowhere. Aside from a few extra street lights they put directly across from the entrance to the drive-in, the rest of the roads are pitch black. The only illumination comes from the few cars that may pass by.

So, I don’t notice the Hell Princes until they flip on their headlights and appear a few car lengths behind me.

After Caleb shut Bumper down last semester, the Hell Princes have kept their distance.

We thought that maybe we’d finally succeeded in putting this ridiculous feud behind us.

As motorcycles surround my mom’s car, however, I’m fairly confident that isn’t the case.

Two bikes are in front of the car, their brake lights lit up, several more are on my left, and another two are right behind me.

They’re herding me towards the side of the road.

My options are limited.

I could play along and hope they only want to chat.

I could run the Hell Princes in front of me over and speed off, but going to prison for manslaughter isn’t the most appealing choice for my future.

Or, I could call the cops, but while it takes them twenty minutes to reach me, I’ll have to decide between one of the other two options.

And considering one of the options involves manslaughter, I start to pull over, following the path the motorcycles make for me.

It’s obvious I’m outnumbered. And because I’m with my mom in her car, I don’t even have my gun.

Though, that wouldn’t help me much in this situation. The Hell Princes probably have guns, too.

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