Page 9 of Made for Cyn
I even spy the trio from the party, who decided they were going to kick Cammie Myers’s ass, although they ignore me, and I presume Cammie, too, is safe for another day.
Unfortunately, I don’t have Iris in any of my classes, and for the most part, although I’m stared at, I’m not greeted. With fascination, I sit through my lectures, taking copious notes and soaking it all in.
My favorite class is with Mr. Bloom for literature. When he introduces what we’ll be reading for the year, I smile to see many of my favorites already on the list.
It’s been mostly peaceful although a little awkward, which is why, during lunch, I slow with dread when I find Iris sitting at a table on a dais with Cyn and Bastion, as though holding court over their people. And maybe they are. Even here, away from the party at the beach, I see that students give them a wide berth or gravitate toward them with beseeching expressions.
This leads me to wonder, once again, who they are.
I’m half tempted to pretend I don’t see Iris when she waves at me from the table, but grudgingly I head that way. A larger group surrounds them, and I don’t remember any of them from the beach, but that’s not saying much. It was dark, and much of it was a blur of sounds and images.
I never told Iris what happened because, frankly, I didn’t know how. Honestly, by the time we went home, I thought maybe I had imagined the whole thing. High school students don’t act like common criminals.
Besides, I still don’t know what Cyn is looking for in the form of information, and maybe that will help me decide how to approach it with my cousin.
For now, though, I can’t help but curl my lip at Bastion, knowing he’s using my cousin. Whatever the circumstances, she doesn’t deserve it.
He just raises a brow, his wide mouth stretching wickedly. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Iris warned me herself, stay away, which is why this is all the more confusing. Surely she knows Bastion isn’t any better than Cyn.
“Ah, little beauty,” Cyn greets me as I sit down uneasily beside Iris and across from him.
Some chick with the longest fake eyelashes I’ve ever seen leans against Cyn, her chest brushing his arm. It looks like caterpillars are dancing on her eyelids, and I stare until Cyn leans back with a sexy curl to his lip and wraps his arm around her.
With a sultry smile, she snuggles deeper, and I drop my gaze, ignoring him and his little stunt. Whatever his motivation, I’m not interested, or so I tell myself as I take a bite of my lunch.
But immediately, I lean over and spit it out of my mouth. I chose a burger, underwhelmed by the other options, but I’m not sure what I’m eating because it is most definitely not meat.
Across from me, Jig, the blue-haired guy from the beach, chortles. I cast him a glare, pausing when he grins at me like a shark. It’s a little disturbing, and at odds with his twinkling eyes and goofy demeanor.
Shit, are all these guys psycho? What could Iris possibly know that would inspire their attention?
Glancing at her sideways, I spy her laughing loudly and punching Bastion in the arm, seemingly none the wiser of his betrayal.
My cheek itches, and when I look back at Cyn, he raises his brow, his lip curving in a small smile.
“So,” Jig says, and I shrink when I see he’s speaking to me. “Rain’s an unusual name.”
“So is Jig,” I mutter.
His pretty blue eyes, which perfectly match his hair, alight with interest. “Where you from, Little Bit?”
“Rainy lived in a commune,” Iris breaks in helpfully, shrugging when I turn to her and glare.
“Oh, yeah?” Jig says, waggling his brows. “Nice. Sex . . . drugs . . . sex.”
“Huh?”
“You know, free love,” he says with a wicked grin.
Anything having to do with Prophet Jim and sex makes my stomach turn, and with a shudder I can’t suppress, I mutter, “Yeah, no.”
Truthfully, I suspect there may have been a lot of free love happening, but it was among the adults, which I don’t want to consider because gross, my parents were there. Thankfully, I got out before I reached the socially appropriate age to participate. I’m still unclear on what might have happened, but I’m relieved I no longer have to speculate.
From the corner of my eye, I see Cyn shift in his chair, and when I raise my eyes, he’s staring at me curiously.
“No?” Jig says, shaking his head dramatically. “No group sex? You mean you’ve never been double-dipped?”
“What?” I ask blankly, and he laughs with genuine amusement, his bright blue eyes glowing brilliantly.
