Brandon headed up the stairs. After a beat, I went with him. Discovering what he knew about Royal was reason enough.
Together we topped the landing and passed through a sea of darkening faces. One by one, mouths snapped shut as I walked by. The seniors were all glowering as we rested our trays on a small table in the corner.
Their eyes were on me, but mine were on Royal. Two tables away, he sat with Angry Boy and the replicas. His food cooled on the tray as he ignored it in favor of texting. Even though I knew my mind played tricks on me, I swore I smelled his citrusy body spray from over there.
“Can we sit somewhere else?” I asked.
“Nah. There’s nowhere else.”
“What are you talking about?” I gestured across the loft near where Julian, Pomona, Brynn, Leo, and Destiny were sitting. Pomona was in Julian’s lap, and they made out on a level that was approaching gross. “There are five empty tables over there.”
“Yep and they’re all for the Raveners. They sit there. The OB kids sit here.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He pointed at his face. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“Fine. Whatever.” I finally sat and popped the top on my apple juice. “So tell me about—”
“Me first,” Brandon broke in. “This morning you called Hamilton a chipmunk and she flipped out. What was that about?”
“Oh, that.” I smothered a laugh. “When Destiny was twelve she had buck teeth and bright green braces. She was super embarrassed and was always hunching over and trying to cover her mouth when she ate. So that guy Leo—who she is trying to dry hump right now—started calling her chipmunk and got all the kids at the Fourth of July picnic to shout it at her until she ran off crying.”
Eyes falling shut, Brandon lifted his head to the ceiling. “That is the best story I’ve ever heard,” he breathed. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to use that.”
I chuckled. “You don’t like them very much, do you?”
“They literally call me trash to my face. Sometimes, the Raveners act like it’s our name. ‘Hey, trash, get out of the way,’ or ‘Sit somewhere else, trash.’” His friendly countenance vanished. “You have no idea what it’s like having to go to school with those dicks.”
“I’m quickly finding out.”
He sighed. “All right. You answered mine, I’ll answer yours. The Angels.” He patted the seat. “Sit next to me so we’re not obvious.”
I slid my tray down and did as he asked. Brandon leaned in, dropping his voice for good measure. “What do you want to know? You said you and Royal have history.”
“I met him once,” I confessed. “I don’t know the other guys. Are they his friends?”
“I guess you could call them that. I don’t know if a guy like Royal has friends. But if he does, those guys are as close as it gets in this school.”
My confusion compounded. “What?”
“The Asian guy is Hiro Saito,” he went on. “He speaks English and Japanese but doesn’t say much in either language. He’s the one you go to if you need something.”
“The one I go to?”
“Yep. Anything you want, he can get his hands on. No one knows how he gets the stuff through the gates. And he wouldn’t tell us if we asked.”
“Okay,” I drew out. “What about the twins?”
“Cassius and Clay aren’t twins.”
I snorted in disbelief. “How are they not twins? Did they have plastic surgery to look like each other?”
He laughed. “Course not. They’re not twins because they’re triplets. See that girl coming up the stairs with the Ravener? That’s their sister, Camila.”
The Ravener he was referring to must have been Nolan because he was heading to Julian’s table walking next to a girl as heart-stoppingly striking as her brothers. Camila’s platinum blond waterfall swayed free, tips skating along the hem of her blazer. The resemblance wasn’t as strong between her and her brothers as the one between Cassius and Clay. All the same, her pert little nose and big blue eyes accomplished her parents’ task of spitting out three unnaturally attractive humans.
Under our watchful eyes, Camila placed her tray next to Leo and then ran across the space to Cassius and Clay. She said something to them, smiling away, and one of them took out his wallet. A fat stack of bills was placed in her hand. She kissed her brother’s cheek and then skipped back to Nolan, plopping down in his lap.
“I’m confused,” I said. “I thought you said it was Raveners on one side and OB kids on the other. Are the triplets not from the OB?”
“No, they are. Camila just doesn’t have to stress about that shit ’cause she looks like that and Nolan is her boyfriend.”
“Ah. That clears it up.”
Brandon forked some chicken in his mouth. “So Cas—he’s the one with the tattoo on the back of his hand—and Clay run a few rackets.”
Rackets?
“They’re wicked smart, and for the right price, they’ll take care of your homework, papers, or get you the right SAT score. There’s also rumors they run a high-stakes poker game but that’s only for the kids with money to play.”
My eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Straight up.” He dropped his voice again despite no one being close enough to listen. “Stuff also has a habit of disappearing around them, so like, hands on your purse and keep your backpack where you can see it.”
I stared at them, attempting to reconcile what Brandon was telling me to the boys nonchalantly drinking apple juice.
“Then there’s Royal.”
“What about Royal?” I breathed. “What does he do?”
“Whatever the fuck he wants.”
“Okay.” I pressed a hand to my stomach, sending the command to stop twisting. I was pissed about him not knowing me when I was the one who didn’t know Royal. “So calling them angels is an ironic thing.”
“It’d be nice if that was it,” Brandon said, “but no. They got the name from their matching angel tattoos, and because it took us too long to realize what it meant. Ember, those guys run with the Horsemen, and if I didn’t make this clear to you already”—he gripped my forearm—“you need to stay away from them.”
“Them?” I looked from Brandon, to the boys, and then back to Brandon. “Those four teenage boys attending the best school in five counties... are running with the most dangerous gang in Raven River?” I shook him off. “Now I know you’re joking.”
“This isn’t a joke,” he snapped, shattering my surety. “Why do you think Hart has them wrapped up like mummies? They’re covered in gang tats. She didn’t know what she was taking on when she changed the admission rules. The Ravener got a little charity in her heart and made it so the top students in OB schools could apply here.”
I did hear about that. My uncle shouted about it one Christmas five years ago. I remembered him saying that the academy was for “our children” and was not the right place for “those kids.” An interesting thing to say for a man with no children at all.