Page 212 of Boys Who Hunt

“Take a seat,” Mr. Caruso says, still carrying that emotionless face.

Max and I walk up to some empty benches in the back and sit down, ignoring annoyed looks from other students.

I put down my books and wait until Mr. Caruso continues his lecture before I whisper to Max. “Doesn’t Silas also have this class?”

He nods. “His dad’s the dean. Silas’s attendance doesn’t matter. Only money does.”

Well shit. If only I had someone to fix my life with the snap of a finger.

“Lucky him,” I say.

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d met his mom,” he says.

“She’s really that bad, huh?” I ask.

“Not bad. More like … terrifying.”

I laugh. “Well, I can’t wait to meet her, then.”

Heath

Hours later

After my classesare over and the sun’s about to set, I head outside for a much-needed cigarette break before it’s time to grab some dinner with the boys. But when I pull the packet of cigs from my pocket, the bottle of Ketamine spills out too.

I pick them up from the ground and stare at the bottle for a moment.

Do I continue as usual? Do I slowly taper them off? Do I quit in one go?

Would I be able to live without them?

My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my thoughts. I fish it out of my other pocket to see who it is. My dealer is calling me. Odd. I’m normally the one to call him first.

“One sec, let me get somewhere safe first,” I say as I pick up.

“Sure … I got time,” he replies.

I walk across the path and go behind the second university building, where people only go to smoke and fuck in secret. “What’s up?”

“You still need more pills?” he asks. “You haven’t bought any for a while now.”

“No. I’m … slowing down.” I clear my throat.

It’s not an easy decision, but I owe it to Max. To Ivy. To myself.

“You sure? Because I have this crazy deal right now where you get a bottle of whatever you normally want, plus an additional bag of coke. How does that sound?”

I frown and run my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know, man.”

“Come to the gate,” he says.

I push myself off the wall and walk across campus some more until I get closer to the gate. My dealer is right there, waiting in his car.

That’s ballsy.

“Hey,” he says, and I lower my phone.

I look around to make sure no one saw me come here before I head out the gate and approach the car. His arm is hanging outof his window, and he’s not wearing any protective gear to hide the obvious gnarly-looking scar on his face. “What the fuck are you doing here?”