Page 89 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

But I can’t find the energy. Or the motivation.

For years, I became the person my mom wanted me to become, the head bitch in charge who everyone either loved or feared.

And where has it gotten me?

My own mother barely tolerates me, Noah still hates me, and the more times goes on, the more I hate myself, too. I’m miserable.

“I can’t do this.”

“The party?” Anika asks.

“Any of it.” I grab my purse and keys out of my locker and slam the door shut. “I have to get out of here.”

Before they can say anything else, I sling my purse over my shoulder and head for the front doors.

As soon as I walk into my house, I hear Delanie giggling in the other room. I drop my backpack on the floor and go looking for her.

She’s on the floor of the living room with her nanny and an assorted stack of puzzles, blocks, and stuffed animals around her.

The nanny, Samantha, turns around when I walk in. “Oh, hey, Penny. I didn’t expect anyone to be home for a few more hours.”

“I cut school,” I admit.

Samantha is a part-time nanny and part-time student at the community college. Mom hired her to sit with Delanie a few afternoons a week while she gets happy hour drinks with her friends or a manicure or her hair done. She’s actually pretty cool.

“Bad day?”

I answer by loading a pretend gun and aiming it at my temple.

“Woof.”

I nod, but I can’t focus on my issues for too long.

Delanie finally realizes I’m home and runs over to hug my legs. Her light brown hair is in a mess of curls held back by one pink bow that is trying its best but can’t quite tame her mane.

“Play with me?” she asks in her tiny voice, dark brown eyes wide and innocent.

“Duh,” I say, tweaking her nose.

“Yay!” She squeals with delight, and I ruffle her hair.

“You can go if you want, Sami. I can take over.”

Samantha twists her mouth into a knot. “Do you think I should ask your mom first?”

“I babysit Delanie all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

I can tell she’s hesitant, but considering. “I have a massive paper due tonight and a few extra hours could be the difference between a B and an A.”

I wave her on. “Go. Get.”

Samantha folds her hands into a prayer and bows, kisses Delanie’s head, and hustles out of the door.

“Well, kiddo?”

Delanie looks up at me, her tiny eyebrows drawn into a ferocious frown. Then, for no reason at all, she laughs and darts into the kitchen.

We play hide and seek around the kitchen island—she always hides under the bar stool, and I repeatedly pretend I can’t see her—and then run up the stairs to her room to play in the pretend swimming pool on her rug.

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