Page 76 of Made for Cyn

Inside is a selfie of him, laying on a bed with his arm flexed behind his head. He’s achingly beautiful, and I trace my gaze over the tattoos and muscles displayed so gloriously before me.

“Why couldn’t you like me?” I sigh, confused by the message and the slight smile on his sexy face.

And although I can’t ignore the thrill that he sent it to me, I’m grimly reminded of my stupidity when he sends another text, and my veins fill with ice.

Cyn: Sorry, I sent that by accident

And because I don’t know if he’s teasing me or being serious, I close the phone and roll over on my side, fighting back the tears. He’s been nothing but a dick since I met him, and still, I want him. My heart hurts that he may not want me, but maybe it’s time to stop worrying about the consequences. Perhaps I need to tell Cyn. Maybe he can help because I don’t know what to do, and I refuse to watch Iris fall any further down the hole she’s buried in.

Besides, strangely, I trust Cyn to know what’s right, and maybe I should trust that he knows how to protect himself, too.

???

With this in mind, I search out Cyn the following morning, watching Iris wander off blankly. She didn’t so much as look at me as we drove here, and I’m not sure she heard what I said. Either that, or she outright ignored me.

Cyn’s nowhere to be found, and I realize I’ve only ever seen him at lunch, so I wouldn’t know where to look, anyway. I consider texting him, but I’m stuck in class until lunch, so I resign myself to waiting.

By lunch, I’m itchy and ready to crawl out of my skin because now that I’ve decided to tell him, the information is stuck in the back of my throat, and it’s painful to swallow.

When I enter the cafeteria, he’s not here, and neither are the guys, so I slink over to our table and wait, watching the doors.

But as the minute’s tick by and they don’t emerge, I get more and more tense before finally realizing that Iris hasn’t shown up either.

“Have you seen Iris?” I ask Natasha.

She smiles grimly but won’t meet my gaze as she stares at her soda intently. My stomach drops to my knees, and I prepare myself for the blow when she says, “Um, nope. Haven’t seen her.”

Turning to Oscar, I lick my lips, prepared to ask again when he says grimly, “She’s in the courtyard.”

“Oscar,” Natasha hisses, but Oscar ignores her. “She has a right to know.”

“Know what?” I ask through numb lips.

Finally, Natasha turns to me and says piteously, “She’s with Cyn. Word is, they fucked yesterday in the bathroom, and well . . .”

My world drops out from under me, and I glance away, considering the damn selfie from last night. I guess it really was by accident. Huh.

Smiling tremulously, I stand on trembling limbs and walk away, out of the cafeteria, out the front doors, and away.

And I don’t stop until I’m at the bridge, where I toss Cyn’s phone over the side and watch with a pained smile as it sinks to the bottom.

???

I don’t go home until dinner time. I’m sitting at the table across from Pam, moving my food around on my plate. Iris is equally quiet beside me, although she casts me a few questioning looks, which I completely ignore.

After, I escape to my room but not quickly enough because Iris enters behind me and closes the door. “I waited for you for an hour.”

“Sorry,” I mutter, digging through my closet.

“Yeah, you don’t sound sorry.”

“Probably because I’m not.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I mutter.

“Well, then, you can get yourself home every day,” she snarls.

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