be more pissed at her? She gave the assholes at school my sex doll in order to create a life-sized Violet piñata. At the same time, I hurt her initially by accusing her of murder and being obsessed with me. The entire thing is fucked up, yes, but I do believe she feels guilty for the part played at the Halloween party. I have caught her looking at me a few times, concern emanating from her eyes.

“Don’t mention it.” She waves my praise away dismissively before nibbling on her lower lip. “Do you have a…a date?”

I smile softly, smoothing down the skirt of the dress. “Yes.”

“Is it Mason?” She tries to sound nonchalant, but her voice tightens marginally at the question. According to Dimitri Gray—stalker extraordinaire—Cynthia is in love with my snake-headed boyfriend—maybe boyfriend? She hasn’t said anything to me about it, and I haven’t pressed, but the heartache in her eyes is clear enough to see. Shit on a stick.

“With Frankie,” I say, and her shoulders instantly sag in relief.

“That’s good,” she blurts out. “I mean, I think you’ll be good for him.”

“But…” I rock back on my heels, debating what I’m going to say. On one hand, I don’t want to hurt Cynthia, despite our rocky past. But on the other… “I’m sort of seeing Mason, Vin, Jack, and Hux as well.” When she merely stares at me, mouth agape, I take a tentative step forward. “It’s still new and very, very complicated. And the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you—”

“I see,” Cynthia says stiffly. Movements robotic, she turns on her heel and makes a beeline for the still open door.

“Cynthia!” I plead.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” She pauses in the doorway, but she doesn’t make a move to turn back towards me. “It’s what I expected anyway.”

“What you expected…?” Before she can leave completely—and, consequently, leave my life completely—I grab her arm and wrench her to an abrupt halt. At least, that’s what I attempt to do. Instead, I pull her arm straight out of its socket and awkwardly hold it before me, eyes wide with horror.

Still, it has the desired effect. Cynthia stops moving and reluctantly turns to face me.

“Can I please have my arm back?”

“No,” I say stubbornly, coming quickly to a decision. I hide the arm behind my back and take a step away. “Not until you tell me what you meant.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter—”

“It does so matter. You matter. And I won’t have you placing your worth on any guy’s affection. Cynthia, you’re so much more than one guy’s opinion of you. You’re funny, sweet, and have an amazing set of tits.” Her lips twitch at my poor attempt at a joke, but she keeps her face blank. “Mason and I…we’re complicated, but I care about him. A lot. I care about all of them.”

“Why do you get one hundred guys pining after you while I get none?” Cynthia explodes, throwing her hand up in the air. I wince at the venom in her voice before forcing myself to relax. It’s what I wanted, after all. A conversation.

“That’s not true,” I begin helplessly, but she whirls on me, eyes spewing anger.

“Don’t play dumb, Violet, because I know you’re not. You’re beautiful and funny and smart, and you have half the guys at this school eating out of your hand. Even that cupid and boogeyman are in love with you, but you’re too dumb to see it.” She takes a step closer until we’re nose-to-nose. Hers is bent at an unnatural angle, and I wonder if it’s possible for me to buy her a new one. I’m pretty sure it’s not a gift I can get off of Amazon.

“What about you?” I ask just as viciously. “What about Pete?”

“Who the fuck is Pete?” she sputters.

“Pete the Pumpkin? Sits at your lunch table? The man can’t stop fucking staring at you! Don’t you see?” I grab her hand—the opposite of the one I literally still hold—with mine and give it a squeeze. I can’t make her more confident, I can’t make her fall in love with Pete, but I can give her the push necessary. “You’re such an amazing person, Cynthia, and I’m sorry I screwed our friendship up. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgive me. But just know, I’m here for you. Always. I’m sorry Mason doesn’t love you back… Actually? I’m not sorry. Maybe it makes me a selfish monster, but I can’t imagine my life without him in it. I can’t imagine my life without any of them in it. So go ahead, call me a slut or a whore. Tell me I’m a bitch. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m happy with my guys, and I just want you to be happy too. Maybe it works out with Pete…maybe it doesn’t. Maybe you’ll find yourself a nice hairy werewolf dick to trampoline on. All I know is that you won’t know unless you try. I never intended to hurt you, but you’re only hurting yourself by falling for a man who will never love you back.”

By the time I finish my speech, I’m breathing heavily, my chest heaving. Cynthia stares down at me with an unreadable expression before she turns on her heel and stalks out the door.

Leaving me with a severed arm that I awkwardly drop on her bed.

Fuck! Did I just make this worse? I think the problem with friendships and relationships is that we always have an unrealistic expectation of the other person. When they don’t meet those standards, we deem them failed. It’s a never-ending, vicious cycle that ruins more relationships than it saves.

“Are you ready?” a quiet voice inquires from the doorway, and I quickly compose myself.

“Let’s do this.”

CHAPTER 17

FRANKIE

My hands are sweaty, despite repeatedly rubbing them against my khaki pants. I’m…nervous. It’s not an emotion I’m used to dealing with.

Actually, I’m not used to feeling any of these emotions. The sweating hands

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