Chapter 8 (Wynn)

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Wynn

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Wynn

"I always thought you and Wyatt would figure things out," Lana chirps, examining her French-tipped manicure. "Cole's definitely not a bad alternative, though. I think you should go for it."

Colby watches me as I take a seat beside her, uncertainty painting her features. I just sat down, and I'm already contemplating taking my lunch elsewhere.

Morgan nods in agreement with Lana, shoving another fork full of leafy greens into her face. I roll my eyes at the ditz twins, only Lana catches it, causing her thin lips to curl into an ugly sneer.

"I thought he'd never stop chasing after you, Wynn," she adds with vicious joy. Sure, she doesn't know my history with Cole, but she has a knack for getting under my skin. "I guess he got bored. " She snorts at her own remark, gazing at her lunch bag that's gotta be filled with some new diet fad.

"You're probably right," I say, my tone nonchalant, though her words sting far more than I'd ever let on. "He and Colby are better suited anyway."

Colby and Morgan eye me warily. I'm not known for pacifism, but I simply don't have the energy to deal with Lana's crap today.

"What's that?" Morgan asks, her nose scrunching at the scent emanating from Lana's lunch, just like mine is. I can't say it looks particularly appetizing to me either, but I have a serious aversion to vegetables... minus potatoes, because potatoes make fries and chips.

"I just slightly altered the carrot salad recipe from Chick-Fil-A," Lana announces. She's still speaking, but my mind wanders into an alternate reality where I'm flipping the bowl of orange and purple shreds right into her stupid face.

Morgan takes a small bite of the concoction, wincing before the food even passes her lips. She starts to chew, and I watch tears form in her eyes. Bless her puerile little heart, she's still trying to be polite.

"Spit it out!" Colby urges, and I don't even attempt to stifle my laughter. She can't bear to see anyone struggle—probably because she knows the feeling all too well. Colby reaches for Lana's lunch bag, holding it under Morgan's chin, where Morgan dribbles the mangled bits of salad into the bag.

Lana crosses her arms over her chest. "You're such a drama queen," she whines, while the rest of us laugh freely at her expense.

"I was not being dramatic," Morgan says, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "That had to be the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted. How much vinegar did you put in that?"

"The bottle slipped, okay," Lana admits, throwing Morgan a dark look. A giggle bursts out of Colby, and Lana rises to her feet, removing herself from the confines of the cafeteria table. "I'm gonna go get some water," she huffs, storming away.

Morgan's eyes follow her, and I think she might be scared for her life. "I should go apologize."

I'll never understand why she lets Lana dictate her life. She deserves better, but doesn't fight for it. "By all means," I say, sweeping my hand in dismissal. She scampers off after Lana, her ever-loyal pet.

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