1642734778_punk-57-pdf

Forget that I was taking selfies with Ryen that night, ignoring my
instincts and responsibilities, while my sister was dying alone on a dark,
cold road.
We walk into the locker room, knowing that the pool is accessible from
it. Passing by the offices and through the locker bay, I see something out of
the corner of my eye and catch a glimpse of two bodies in the shower.
I enter the hallway and slow to a stop.. Did I just see…?
I jerk my chin at Dane and point ahead. “There’s a pool through there.
Give me a sec.”
He nods lazily and heads out of the locker room. I turn around again
and, keeping my body close to the wall, I peer carefully around the corner
again.
Amusement pulls at the corners of my mouth. Well, it looks like not
everyone in cheer and lacrosse has gone home for the night, after all.
Trey Burrowes, the guy who thinks Ryen is his, stands in the shower,
holding her best friend—Lyla, is it?—up against the bathroom wall, both of
them naked, wet, and fucking as the showers spray around them.
Classic.
Lyla’s dark hair is up in a wet ponytail, and her arms and legs are
wrapped around him, holding on tight while he grips her ass and goes at
her, both of them breathing hard and moaning quietly.
This is the guy Ryen wants to take her to prom? She chooses her dates
about as well as her friends. I wonder how long they’ve been screwing
behind her back.
But hopefully, if he’s fucking this girl, then he might not be getting it
from Ryen.
An ounce of pleasure hits me.