Page 43 of Made for Cyn

Jig confirms Iris’ words when he essentially ignores me during PE, but for a single chilly smile when I emerge from the locker room. Miserably, I navigate the cutthroat rules of soccer as, once again, everyone dances around me.

I knew better, and I’m still hurt by his actions, which makes me the idiot in this scenario, but the brush-off tells me where I rank, and it’s not anywhere near the top of his list.

“You’re completely useless, aren’t you?” A girl named Keri says, running past me and commandeering the ball.

I slow with a sour smile, allowing her to take the lead because she’s not wrong. I have no clue what I’m doing, and I’m too prideful just to ask, but the comment stings, nonetheless.

After class, I follow my peers toward the locker room, looking up in surprise, when a girl I recognize in two of my other courses steps up beside me.

“Hey, I’m Anya.”

“Oh, hi. Rain.”

“I know,” she says. “I’m not sure what hole you came out of but if you want help understanding the game, let me know.”

“Um, thanks,” I say as she flips her long, dark hair over her shoulder and precedes me inside.

By the end of the day, I’m exhausted as I head for the parking lot. Although I get the occasional leer from some guys, I’m still the newbie whom few will approach. I’m not sure how to break the barrier, but it would be nice to have a friend or two.

This is why I slow when Anya steps up beside me and says, “Hey, Rain.”

She gives me a sultry smile, and I return it enviously because she’s gorgeous with long lashes surrounding crystal blue eyes, a pert nose, and lips painted a pale pink.

“You stuck to Iris’ hip or what?”

“I’m sorry?”

With an impatient look, she says, “There’s a party this weekend. Actually, it’s my birthday. Do you want to come?”

“Iris isn’t invited?”

She shrugs, smiling at a friend as we pass. “Iris doesn’t like me much. But if she wants to, she can come, too.”

“Um, okay, where?”

I’m trying to contain my enthusiasm, but this is the first overture from any of my peers. I was starting to despair at making any connections. Obviously, I love Iris, but it’s clear I need to create my own relationships because hers are turning out to be quite toxic.

“Give me your number, and I’ll text it to you.”

Reciting the digits of the phone that doesn’t technically belong to me, she sends me a message and waves me off. I exit out the front doors with a small smile and approach Iris, waiting impatiently by her car.

Ugh. Now I’m back to her cruel words from lunch, and I’d been doing a fine job ignoring the burn in my chest.

With a silent sigh, I get in, resigned to another awkward ride, until she speaks. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

“Okay, but is it true?”

“Is what true? That I slept with Cyn? Yes, nearly everyone has. He’s a slut,” she says impatiently.

“Oh.”

“Look, I didn’t lie. If you want a good time, Cyn’s your best bet to lose your v card, but he’s not going to go steady with you.”

“Yeah, I got that message loud and clear,” I mutter dryly.

“Okay then,” she says, exhaling, “forgive me?”

“Of course, but please, if you plan to hang out with Saul, feel free to leave me behind.”

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