The Raven Four Books 1-3 - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,11

think I was either. My fucking car wouldn’t start, and then …” He trails off as his gaze skates from Zay to me, a crinkle forming between his brows as he looks back at Hunter. “Did Mr. M. finally assign seats?”

Hunter shakes his head. “Nope.”

The stranger looks at me, but I pretend not to notice, picking at my chipped fingernail polish.

He looks back at Hunter. “Is she aware she’s sitting in Zay’s seat?”

“Yeah,” Hunter replies, leaning back in his seat and kicking his feet up onto the chair in front of him. “Apparently, she didn’t want to move.”

“She was a real bitch about it, too,” Zay mumbles as he twists sideways in his seat.

So, I’m a bitch because I wouldn’t move out of the seat when he demanded?

Annoyed, I tug out my earbuds. “I wasn’t being a bitch just because I refused to obey you.”

As Zay’s gaze cuts to me, the stranger’s brows rise while Hunter gives me some sort of cryptic pressing look.

Zay studies me for an intense beat. “You’re right; you don’t have any self-preservation.”

“Actually, I think my exact words were I left it at home,” I remind him. “Maybe I’ll remember it tomorrow. But probably not since I have a habit of forgetting things. I’m so bad that I had to install that app on my phone that helps me find my phone because I kept losing it. But I don’t think there’s an app that helps people find their self-preservation. Maybe, though. I’ll have to look into it.”

Hunter smashes his lips together while the stranger stares at me with a crinkle between his brows.

Zay’s dark gaze practically bores a hole into my head. “You know what? I think I’m going to enjoy teaching you your place here.” Then he gets up and storms out of the classroom.

The stranger lets out an exhausted sigh. “Do you want to go check on him this time?” he asks Hunter.

Hunter shakes his head. “Might be better to let him vent it out this time.”

“Maybe.” The stranger drops into Zay’s seat then turns around to look at me. “So, who are you?”

I have no plans of answering him, but Hunter does it for me.

“That’d be Ravenlee Wilowwynter. Raven for short.” A smile dances at his lips as he glances at the stranger. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

Huh?

The stranger stares at me with an unreadable expression. “Perhaps.”

Dude, these guys are weird.

“I tried earlier to get more information out of her,” Hunter informs him, still appearing amused. “But she insisted she wants to remain mysterious. I’ll wear her down, though. In fact, I predict we’re going to be BFFs by October eighth.” He winks at me.

“That’s a really random number,” I tell him. “Maybe you’re the psychic.”

Strands of his hair fall into his eyes as he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m just a goal setter, something you should know about me if we’re going to be friends. You should also know that I almost always meet my goals, so get ready to start making those friendship bracelets.”

“You might want to go easy on setting that goal,” the stranger warns, “until you talk to Zay.”

What is Zay? Like their ringleader or something?

Hunter slumps back in his seat, totally sulking. “Jax, why you gotta always ruin my fun like that?”

“Someone has to be your babysitter,” the stranger—Jax—tells him, digging his phone out of his pocket.

Hunter’s pout deepens. “I don’t need a babysitter. You just think I do.”

“Know. I know you do,” Jax throws back at him while opening a notebook.

The bell rings then and the teacher walks to the front of the classroom to start class.

Jax lowers his voice and whispers one final thing to Hunter. “Do I need to remind you of what happened with Clara? Or Jessa? Or Katy?” He gives Hunter a pressing look. “You get me? Or do you want me to keep jotting off names?”

Hunter frowns. “No, you can stop. I get it, and I’ll try to back off.” He flicks one quick glance in my direction, offering me what appears to be an apologetic look.

What the hell he’s sorry for is beyond me. But what I’d really like to know is what happened to those girls Jax spoke of. And who the heck Jax, Zay, and Hunter are and why everyone appears to be afraid of them.

But, as a minute ticks by with me overanalyzing all sorts of ideas about it, I realize I’m focusing way too much time on these guys. And that’s not my MO. So, I focus on