Page 15 of Made for Cyn
“Why?”
“Because he thinks I have a thing for Rand, which I don’t. But with those boys, it’s all about loyalty. You’re either in, or you’re out.”
Wow. Hard-core. But why?
“Can’t you just tell him it was a misunderstanding?”
Snorting, she leans against the pillows and rubs her eyes. “No, once they push you out, that’s it. I’m sure by tomorrow, it’ll be like I don’t exist.”
Shivering, I consider Cyn’s cruel smile and cool eyes, acknowledging that although it’s extreme, it doesn’t surprise me. Something about these guys is nowhere near straightforward, and I would be better served leaving it alone.
“That’s crazy, but maybe this is a good thing? They seem kind of dangerous.”
Lifting dull eyes to me, she looks me over quietly until I’m squirming before she says with a frown, “True, which is why you should stay away from Cyn. I mean it, Rain. If he’s pursuing you, it’s for one thing only. Besides, he’s into some bad shit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. He hangs out with gangs and shit. Just stay away.”
“Okay,” I whisper, setting aside the tiny flame I refused to admit still burned.
He’s no good for me, and that’s the truth of the matter, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be very bad with him.
Chapter Four
To my relief, the following day at lunch, Iris is sitting at a different table, surrounded by a different set of students who look far less cutthroat.
Dinner the night before was a quiet affair where John asked questions about our day, and Iris answered with either grunts or monosyllabic answers. Iris has always only ever tolerated him, as far as I know, but the tension between the two was palpable. Pam was out of town and it would seem Iris’ animosity has only grown, which is too bad because she doesn’t have any other father figures in her life.
“Hey,” I say, dropping into the seat next to her.
“Hey,” she says glumly, tossing a fry to her plate.
“What’s up?” A blonde girl with vibrant blue eyes asks from the other side of the table.
“Um, nothing?” Truthfully, slang has never made much sense to me, and I’m always confused about how to answer. I mean, technically, the ceiling is up.
Her mouth curves in a wicked smile. “You’re Iris’ cousin?”
Glancing at Iris, I find her furtively looking at the table across the way, and following her gaze, I meet the lush green eyes of my tormentor.
As soon as our gazes lock, his mouth curls in a smile, and I shiver because I’m still not sure what he really wants. He said he wants my cherry, but in the next breath, he insulted my innocence. His mood swings are downright confusing, not to mention offensive, but I need to stop with the curiosity because it doesn’t matter.
“Yes.” I turn back to the girl with a frown. “I’m Rain.”
“Neat,” she says, tossing her long, blonde hair. “Do yourself a favor and don’t be an Iris. Stay away from the dicks at that table.”
“Fuck off, Natasha,” Iris snarls.
Natasha grimaces and glances at the very same table of guys with a furtive look. She talks a good game, but her actions speak pretty damn loudly. She’s just as obsessed as the rest of us—except me, of course. Ha!
The question is, which bad boy is she lusting after, and why is my stomach sour at the thought?
“What? Am I wrong? Here you sit.” Natasha waves her hand around.
“Yeah, well, you’d be over there riding dick if they offered, which they haven’t,” Iris sneers, her eyes flashing bitterly.
“Okay, okay,” the only other occupant of the table says, holding up his hands.
