Page 52 of Cinderella Is Faking It

Blondie:

Did you know that people are hornier in summer than in winter?

Beck:

Yes

Blondie:

Apparently a mix of the extra Vitamin D and dopamine from the sun, and all the exposed skin releasing pheromones.

Beck:

We should test your theory on my sun deck.

Blondie:

It’s not my theory, it’s science.

She didn’t even reactto my come on. You’d think after trying to get herself off in my bed, she would have been a little flirty. Except, when she texted me, it was links to articles about hormones and studies on the germs exchanged during oral sex. She’d gone into deep research mode - and today she hadn’t even shown, after I’d clearly signaled that I wanted to try a more hands-on approach.

She’d been quivering around my fingers last Friday and now she shot me down again and again. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?

Beck:

Call it a scientific experiment then.

Del:

I don’t need to experiment to know that this heatwave is just making me sweaty and lazy.

Another knock-out.

“Who could possibly be more important than me, huh?” Brody’s cushioned glove knocked into my side as she tried to angle over my shoulder and catch a glimpse at my texts.

“It’s just work,” I said.

“Uh-huhBlondiesure sounds a lot like work.”

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and narrowed my eyes at her, then at the ring, where two teen girls were dancing around each other instead of landing hits. “Shouldn’t you be getting the shit kicked out of you right now?”

“Next one,” she replied, jumping up and down, keeping her muscles warm, “they had to let Felicity go first because she needs to be home by nine or her mom will freak out again.”

Sports for teen girls was very different from sports for adults. Parental curfews mattered more than skill. “You need a pep talk?”

Brody jumped from side to side, pumping her arms. “I need you to tell me who Blondie is. Am I finally getting an aunt?”

I didn’t point out to her that she technically had an aunt, because her late mother’s sister was an old hag. She hated Julian for getting Brody’s mom pregnant and hated Brody for being born. Which had led to her mother’s death. Eclampsia. Preventable but not uncommon. “We’ll see,” I said, and Brody almost stumbled forward in the middle of a jump, scrambling to turn to me.

“Wait, what the fuck?”

I raised my brows at her choice of words, but I knew better than to stop a teenager from cursing. “I thought we were getting somewhere but she canceled on me today. Your father thinks she’s friendzoning me.”

Brody rolled her eyes at me. “The friendzone is a patriarchal concept invented by men incapable of seeing women as anything but servants or sexual partners.”

The bell rang in the ring, fight over. “You’re up,” I said, pointing at the corner she’d have to fight from. If this had been an official fight, I would have been in coach mode, but since this was just a friendly competition, I was allowed some blonde distraction.

“Give me three minutes,” Brody said, shoving her mouth guard in.

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