Cruel Academy: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Princes of Ravenlake Academy Book 2)

by Nicole Fox

  “Looks like your boyfriend isn’t here to save you, either,” J.C. says. “Where is Bumper tonight?”

  “Fuck you,” Levi growls. “Keep talking, and we’ll be taking it to the ring.”

  J.C. snorts. “From what I hear, Haley beat you and a pal singlehandedly. Maybe you should save the trash-talking for someone who hasn’t already whooped your ass.”

  Before Levi can formulate a response, J.C. spits in his direction and then keeps moving down the hallway as though no one said a word.

  “Hey, thanks,” I murmur.

  J.C. shakes his head. “No one talks to my friends like that.”

  Friends. Plural.

  I’m J.C.’s friend.

  And despite his certainty that everyone would hate him once they found out his secrets, Caleb is still J.C.’s friend, too.

  39

  Caleb

  I wake up in Finn’s guest room Sunday morning in my clothes, still lying on top of the covers.

  After opening my aching eyes, I stare up at the ceiling and tell myself that the hazy, booze-soaked memories from the night before are just dreams.

  Drinking myself into oblivion.

  J.C. showing up at the fights.

  Pushing Haley …

  The last one especially feels like a dream. Or, rather, a nightmare.

  I shoved her hard—harder than I intended.

  I can’t stop seeing the look of shock that crossed her face when she realized what I’d done.

  After that, the memories grow too foggy to wade through. And maybe I could have succeeded in thinking the night hadn’t really happened…

  If it weren’t for the note J.C. left on the nightstand.

  Why are you so heavy? You owe me a big one. And since you probably don’t remember, Haley gave you the bruise on your face. It was very hot and totally deserved. It’s sad you probably won’t remember it.

  The note sounds exactly like regular old J.C. Almost like things are normal.

  But I know better than to get my hopes up. He probably wouldn’t end our friendship through a note on the nightstand.

  No, if he does it, he’ll do it in person.

  I check the top of the nightstand, the drawer, and the floor around it, looking for a second note, but I don’t find one.

  A flicker of disappointment alights in me, but I smother it. Haley didn’t leave a note, and that’s fine.

  I don’t even know why I’m disappointed. Yes, we slept together, but Haley was only using me to learn to fight and based on the goose egg on my cheek, she has learned more than enough.

  She doesn’t need me anymore. I sure as fuck don’t need her.

  And now that my secret is out, there is no reason for the two of us to spend any time together.

  It’s over and done with.

  Good riddance.

  After a quick shower, during which I only vomit twice, I toss on some of Finn’s clothes and drive home. I haven’t seen my mom since Friday night, and as soon as the front door opens, she pads out of the kitchen in her pajamas.

  She is used to my comings and goings ever since my dad left, but she still gets worried when I’m gone too long.

  She sighs in relief when I come through the door. “You could call.”

  “I was at Finn’s.”

  “I know,” she says, leaning against the doorway. “I drove by and saw your car.”

  “You didn’t come in?”

  “I figured you wanted to be alone.”

  I nod. “You were right. When did he leave?”

  “Right after you did. I told him to go in case you came back.”

  Something pops in the kitchen, and Mom jumps and runs back in there. I follow and see her turning bacon on the stove. There’s a box of frozen pancakes on the counter, along with two bowls of chopped fruit and cups of chocolate milk.

  “I thought maybe you’d come home hungry,” she says over her shoulder. “Call it mother’s intuition.”

  My body feels dried out from the alcohol, almost as if my veins are rubbing together like sandpaper.

  But she’s right—I am hungry. I pull out a seat at the table and take a long drink.

  I’ll probably regret it in an hour when I’m throwing it all up, but I can enjoy it for right now. Especially since it has been a long time since my mom hasn’t had to work on a Sunday morning.

  And now that my dad won’t be chipping in financially anymore, it will probably be another long stretch of lonely Sunday mornings.

  “I guess we won’t be seeing Dad around anytime soon.”

  Mom slides a plate of warm bacon in front of me and takes the seat across the table. “He didn’t mean what he said.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  She shakes her head. “I’ve known your father longer than you have. The two of you are both so stubborn and proud. He only said all of that because he misses you, Caleb. He wants you to want to spend time with him, but he doesn’t know how to ask.”

  I snort. “If he wanted to spend time with me, he shouldn’t have left.”

  Mom starts in on the normal excuses, but I don’t bother listening. Dad had the chance to choose. He chose wrong. Simple as that.

  He doesn’t deserve excuses.

  “Either way, I’ll cover whatever expenses he drops,” I chime in at the tail end of Mom’s lecture. “And I’ll have the money for your car next weekend.”

  “I don’t need it,” she says, pointing to an envelope on the counter. “Before your dad left town, he brought over enough cash for the down payment so I can get back and forth to work.”

  I frown. “I offered you my truck.”

  “I told him that, but he said the truck was yours. He wanted you to have it,” she says, giving me a sad smile. “In case you wanted to drive over and visit him.”

  I nod and refrain from telling her that is never going to happen. She doesn’t need to hear that right now.

  40

  Caleb

  Late Sunday night, after I’m already in bed, I realize I never set the alarm at Finn’s.

  Usually, I’d say it was fine and take care of it in the morning, but with the way my luck has been lately, the one time I forget to set the alarm would be the one time someone decides to break in.

  So, I slip into a pair of tennis shoes and drive over there in my loose pajama pants and a white T-shirt.

  I leave my truck running, thinking it will only take a second to set the alarm, but when I punch in the code, the machine makes a harsh warning sound.

  A light is flashing on the keypad to warn me that somewhere in the house, a door is open. The system won’t arm itself until every door is closed.

  I curse and walk into the house to check on all the doors in this fucking mausoleum.

  But I’m not even out of the entryway when a figure appears in the hallway ahead of me.

  I jump back, surprised, and lift my hands to protect myself against what I’m sure is an imminent attack.

  Instead, the light flips on, and even as my eyes struggle to adjust, I know it is Haley.

  I blink at her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I thought maybe you’d come back here. I was … waiting.”

  I don’t want to do this. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  She betrayed me. She broke my trust, and whatever game we were playing, it’s over.

  I quit.

  I brush past her and walk through the dining room to check the sliding glass door that goes out to the balcony. “You have my number. There’s no need for the theatrics.”

  “You wouldn’t have answered.”

  “Exactly. So you shouldn’t be here.”

  The door is locked, so I move to the door in the kitchen—one of two that opens to the garage. It’s locked, too.

  “Caleb, please just let me explain.”

  “There’s nothing to explain.”

  “There’s everything to explain,” she argues. “Please just … stop moving.”

  I check the side door that opens onto
the concrete terrace on the side of the house and then have to turn to face Haley again.

  She is in a pair of cotton pajama shorts and a tank top. I can see the definition of the lithe muscles along her arms and legs. Definition that wasn’t there just a few weeks ago.

  I try to walk around her, but she follows my steps and blocks me in.

  “Move, Haley.”

  She lowers her dark brows, narrowing her blue eyes at me. They are electric tonight. Bright and shining. “Make me.”

  I know we are both remembering Saturday night. The way I shoved her out of the way. She probably has a bruise on her back from me, but I try not to think about it.

  I was so angry with Levi and whatever lackey he brought along with him. So mad that they would dare to touch her, hurt her … and then I turned around and did the exact same thing.

  “I can.”

  “You won’t.” Her eyes flash and for a second, I want to forgive her. Not because she deserves it but because I need a fucking break. I need one thing in my life to be okay for just a second.

  Haley jumps on my hesitation, launching into an apology I don’t want to hear.

  “I called J.C. because I didn’t know what else to do. You were shit-faced and in no shape to fight. And after the way John has been sending people after me, I thought the Hell Princes would take advantage of your … condition.”

  “So I would have lost a fight with Bumper,” I say. “It’s not like it would be the first time. You made sure of that a long time ago.”

  The reminder of her original betrayal stings. Mostly because it should have been my big red flag, warning me to stay far, far away from her.

  She sold me out to save her own ass. Knowing full-well that her cowardly boyfriend wasn’t going to roll the dice on losing a fair fight against me. No, that piece of shit had to tool up with four of his buddies before starting the brawl, and even then he made sure that he also had the advantage of surprise.

  Pussies. Plain and simple.

  And she’s the one responsible.

  “It is a big deal,” she argues. “You would have been seriously embarrassed to lose. Plus, you could have been seriously hurt. I couldn’t let you go in there alone. So I called J.C. and told him everything, and he didn’t care, Caleb!”

  “You don’t know that. Have you talked to him since Saturday night?”

  Her silence is enough for me to know that she hasn’t.

  “Neither have I,” I say. “You blackmailed me, used me, and when you were done, you told my secrets. I don’t know why I expected any different.”

  Her hands fist at her sides. “That isn’t what happened, and you know it.”

  “Actually, I don’t. Because that is what happened. You got attacked on Friday and fought your way out, and you realized you didn’t need me anymore. So, why not go ahead and ruin my life?”

  Her mouth falls open, and something like a laugh comes out of her, but there is no humor in it. “I ‘ruined your life’? Come on, Caleb. Now, who is being dramatic?”

  Frustration is boiling inside of me. Adrenaline is pouring into my veins, and I can feel the familiar need to strike out and hit something clawing at my skin.

  It’s like an itch I can’t scratch, and if Haley doesn’t get out of my face, I’m going to do something stupid. Something I’ll regret.

  I charge forward, and Haley must sense the dangerous energy coming off me because she doesn’t block my path. Instead, she steps out of the way and then follows behind me as I continue making my way through the house, checking the doors.

  “Would you stop and talk to me for a second?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” I growl. “Our arrangement is over. Now that my friends are gone, you don’t have anything left to hold over my head. There is no one left in my life to care about my fighting, so I don’t have to deal with you anymore.”

  I lock the second door into the garage and when I turn around, Haley is blocking the exit back to the front door. She is only a few inches away.

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “And you’re being stupid,” I rumble. “You should leave before—”

  “Before what? Before you push me again? Before you hurt me?” She shrugs. “That’s how you handle all of your problems, isn’t it? It’s why you can’t look me in the eye and have a conversation right now. Because all you’ve ever done is make fists and fight your way through life. Have you ever stopped to consider that you never had to go through all of this alone?”

  “Get out of my way, Haley.”

  She leans forward, her breath warm on my face. “You’re so certain everyone is going to despise who you really are that you refuse to show them. That’s why you lied, isn’t it?”

  The itching under my skin is unbearable, and I finally muscle through Haley, knocking her to the side, and stomp through the house.

  I don’t have to listen to this.

  I don’t have to listen to a damn word she says.

  “You’re afraid if you aren’t rich enough or cool enough that no one will care about you, so you shut them out before they can shut you out or you lie. It’s really sad, Caleb.”

  I grind my teeth so hard I think they’ll crack.

  I’m not shutting anyone out. Haley is the one who betrayed my trust. My dad is the one who left.

  Now, my friends are dust in the wind, too.

  Everything has fallen apart, and I’m not going to stand here and let Haley blame me for it.

  When I punch in the code at the keypad, the alarm chirps, letting me know it is set. I push Haley out the door ahead of me, pull it closed, and lock up.

  “So, that’s it? You’re just going to shut me out?” she asks.

  I move automatically down the steps and to my truck, like a robot with one mission: to get as far away from Haley as possible.

  Haley jogs around me and tries to cut me off, but before I can even think about what I’m doing, I shove her aside with my shoulder

  It’s a small bump, nothing more than a jostle in my mind, but Haley loses her footing and lands on her hip on the concrete driveway. She winces, checking the scrapes on her hands, and I almost stop and help her up—more out of habit than any real concern for her.

  Then I think better of it.

  “You’re a violent coward, Caleb,” Haley yells from behind me. “You hide behind your strength and your ego, and at the end of the day, you’re not alone because of anything I did or said. You’re alone because you chose it. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

  She stands in the driveway as I pull away, watching me go.

  41

  Caleb

  I pull into my usual space in the senior parking lot on Monday morning. J.C. and Noah are standing next to their cars a few spaces away.

  I grab my bag out of the passenger seat and get out, hoping simple forward motion will be enough to propel me through this day.

  But I don’t get more than a few feet away from my truck before I hear J.C. yelling at me.

  “Hey, asshole! Over here!”

  I turn to him, and he waves me over with a dramatic flailing of his arms.

  I hesitate. It only makes him wave his arms even harder.

  “Come. Here,” he says, enunciating each word.

  Noah beckons me nonchalantly with his head. That is what finally makes me change course and move towards them.

  J.C. narrows his eyes when I’m within earshot. “Were you going to walk by us without saying anything?”

  I shrug. “I didn’t see you.”

  “Liar.” He crosses his arms and leans against Noah’s car. Immediately, Noah pushes him off. “I told Noah about your suicide mission this weekend.”

  “He means the alcohol poisoning you were obviously after,” Noah says.

  “You threw up in Haley’s car.” J.C. holds up two fingers. “Twice.”

  That’s not ideal. She didn’t mention it yesterday, but then again, she was a bit too busy calling me a violent coward.

>   “You should pay her for the cleaning cost.”

  “If you can afford it, that is,” Noah adds.

  They both stare at me, expression flat, and I study them, anger rising in my chest.

  Before my defenses can rise too high, they both grin.

  “We’ll lend you the money if you can’t, of course,” J.C. says. “I’ve been meaning to donate more to charity, anyway.”

  Noah shakes his head. “I don’t do charity. If you want any money from me, you’re going to have to earn it. My car needs washing if you’re short on cash.”

  I’m still not sure how to respond, but they both seem to be joking. “Never going to happen.”

  “Your car is spotless, Noah.” J.C. cups his hands around his eyes to peek through the tinted back window. “It looks like you just drove it off the lot. Do you get it detailed?”

  He nods. “I have to, so my mom doesn’t notice the pot smell.”

  J.C. gasps. “You’re a pothead? I’m shocked.”

  Noah rolls his eyes. “Don’t change the subject. Caleb being an underground fighter is the big news today. Like, what the fuck, dude?”

  “He didn’t want us to know he was poor.” J.C. reaches out and lays a hand on my shoulder. “Being poor is far from your worst quality, Caleb. I mean, if we’re getting specific here, you’re an asshole. That’s the most detestable thing about you.”

  “It’s true,” Noah agrees. “If we were going to stop being your friends, it would be because of your personality, not your bank account.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Wow. Thanks for that.”

  J.C. shrugs. “No problem. But maybe you should remember that when I’m buying your pot from now on, you know? Like, maybe try laughing at my jokes now and again.”

  “That’s never going to happen, either.”

  J.C. frowns, but Noah, in an unusual show of companionship, throws his arms around our shoulders and starts walking towards the looming shape of Ravenlake Prep.