His anger probably has something to do with the loud-mouthed girl – who very well may still be bleeding all over the stark white cafeteria floor – being his niece.

My fucking bad.

His eyes narrow as he judges me and my too-tight top and ripped-up jeans.

So, I smirk, taunt him a bit.

Because there’s nothing this guy could say or do that could possibly be as fucked as every other day in my reality.

I grab the edge of the chair and lean forward. “Give it to me, Mr. Folk.”

His eyes widen a fraction of an inch and as if he can’t help himself, quickly cut to my top.

Men, they have no self-control.

Well, look at that, another thing learned from my mother.

“Clearly you don’t want to be here, Ms. Carver. Every time I issue a warning you come back twice as hard.”

When a slow grin stretches across my face, he clears his throat and looks away.

“This is your third high school in eighteen months and honestly, you’re lucky you lasted here so long.”

“Am I… Mr. Folk?” I drop back against the seat. “You sure you’re not—”

“Stop.” He glares before sighing. “This is serious. You’ve got the entire school’s attention now. I can’t make this go away.”

I roll my eyes. “Just get on with it already. Where to next?”

He eyes me a moment before folding his hands and leaning forward against the desk. “I made a call.”

My eyes slice to his.

“Your social worker—”

“I don’t have a social worker.”

“Apparently you do. She contacted me a few months back and—”

“Months?”

“Raven, listen—”

Right then, the secretary ushers in some dark-haired lady wearing slacks and a button-down. She reaches over the desk to shake the principal’s hand.

“Mr. Folk, I’m Maria Vega.”

“Ms. Vega, I appreciate you coming so quickly.” He turns to me as she does the same.

“Hey there.” She gives a fake hello, her roaming eyes and tight-lipped smile more curious than anything. “Do you mind if we talk for a bit?”

I don’t bother speaking. No matter what I do or don’t say here, she’s already got me figured out as far as she’s concerned.

“Mr. Folk and I have been in contact over the last semester. He’s briefed me on your home situation and past issues, and at this time, we think it’s best you be removed from your mother’s care.”

A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. ‘My mother’s care’ she says. Please.