Page 13 of Forged in Rain

“Badass,” Jig says, and I nod.

After class, we head to lunch, where I spy Iris at a table by herself, and my heart hurts at the sullen look on her face. She’s got a black eye, which should give me pleasure but only makes me sad because I love the jerk, and I don’t know how to bring her back to me. I don’t even know if it’s possible.

“Nuh-uh,” Jig says, spying the direction of my thoughts and pulling me toward their table on the dais.

Cyn and Bastion are already there, along with a bevy of chicks, one of whom is currently riding Bastion’s lap. I’d like to say I have no idea if Cyn is getting the same treatment, but yeah, I peek. To my relief, he doesn’t have any chicks hanging off him, but they’re all around giving him fuck-me eyes and begging for him to pick them next.

I’d say they’re pathetic, but some part of me wants him to pick me too, so yeah . . . there’s that.

Dropping my bag at the table, I go to jump down and stand in line when Cyn says gruffly, pushing a tray toward me, “Here.”

Suspiciously I glance at him and back to the plate where a water and a plate of fries sit before me, but before I can ask one way or the other, Jig says, “The chicks get our lunches.”

Immediately I push mine away, and Cyn sighs. “What are you doing?”

“Seriously, there’s probably spit or something in it,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Cyn raises a brow and says in a cold as fuck voice, “No one at this table or any other would dare to mess with your food. Isn’t that right, ladies?”

Several nod, like good little doggies, while a few sink in their seats and look away. Cyn raises his brow at me, and mulishly, I pull Jig’s plate my way, swapping out his fries for my own before testing my water to ensure it’s still sealed.

Jig doesn’t care about saliva, apparently, because he goes to town on his mystery meat burger while I wrinkle my nose and move my fries around in my ketchup. Being up here with them makes me uneasy and also paints a target on my back, although being down there meant every one of these assholes attacked me and took great pleasure in it.

Damned if I do and all that. Now I can see many of them looking at me speculatively, no doubt angling for ways to get into the guy’s good graces, and the notion sets my teeth on edge. I’ll be damned if any of these fuckers ever get to sit up here. As a matter of fact, I gaze around at those already here and narrow my eyes.

A new girl has sidled up to Cyn while I had my tantrum about the fries, and with a sour taste in my mouth, I watch Cyn lean back while she touches his junk.

It’s gross how these dicks act in public, but what did I expect, perfect gentlemen? Not possible.

Glancing between them with clenched teeth, I smile sweetly when he looks my way with a smirk before standing and saying loud enough for the whole cafeteria to hear, “Aren’t you the one who threw garbage at me last year?”

She looks up at me with a vicious smile that fades when she sees Jig’s glare. Cyn frowns and looks at me blankly before he realizes I’m challenging his authority. After all, if I’m one of them now, then we all get to hate her together, no?

Scowling at me, he pushes her back to her seat, and because I’m spiteful and my stomach hurts at her right to touch Cyn when I can’t, I say harshly, “Your presence is ruining my appetite.”

She straightens and glares at me before jumping when Cyn says, “Go.”

She glances between us with a furrowed brow but gets up slowly and walks away when Cyn turns his fierce glare on her, and after, he looks at me with icy eyes. “Anything else, Rain?”

Glancing around the table, I watch the others shrink away and smirk before dropping into my chair and picking up a fry. “Not today.”

There’s a collective sigh of relief, and Jig chuckles beside me while Cyn huffs.

“Nice one, LB. You’ll get yours yet,” Jig whispers.

“Get my what?” I ask blankly.

“You know.”

“Uh, no, I don’t.”

“Jig,” Cyn growls, and Jig turns away.

Tuning them out, I eat my fries slowly, my stomach cramping painfully at my new asshole attitude, but if I’ve learned anything recently, it’s that only the strong survive.

Something I think Oscar was trying to drill into my head from the start, and glancing at the table where he sits, I smile when our eyes meet. He nods, looking between us with a furrowed brow, but I lose my focus when I look over to Iris and find her gone.

My mood sours once more because, truthfully, I’d rather be sitting with Oscar and even Iris. At least Oscar spoke the truth. Now even that feels like it’s beyond my reach because I’m submerged in lies. But maybe I can search for him later. I need a little peace right about now.

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