Love Her Madly by M. Elizabeth Lee Page A

fifty? Get with it, girl.”
    â€œOh. That Grant.” She helped me off the grass, and we began walking back toward campus.
    â€œYou wanna jog again, or are you spent?” she asked.
    â€œSpent. Go ahead. I’ll see ya back there.”
    Cyn bounded off, her blond ponytail swinging a wide arc behind her. I knew it was pointless to worry about her, but as she gained distance, she seemed to grow smaller and more delicate.

    For some bizarre reason, I thought that Cyn would keep the whole dancing at the adult store thing under the radar. Ha. Our inner circle knew about it by that night, as Cyn went so far as to model her silver platform stilettos for those assembled. No one seemed as shocked as I had been, though Tall Tim blushed tomato red, and I noticed Max shifting around uncomfortably,supporting the rumor that he was as easily excitable as a fifteen-year-old.
    â€œOh my god, Cyn. Those are so horrible. And awesome. I’m going to make a documentary about you for my Feminist Studies course,” Lila said with a gasp.
    â€œUm, thanks, but no thanks. This isn’t really a statement job. It’s more of a desperation job.”
    â€œNo, a desperation job would be going all the way,” Max interjected.
    â€œWho asked you, Mr. Man,” Lila snapped. “I just think it’s very bold. Very strong and very bold.”
    Cyn eased onto her bed and began unstrapping the heels. “Well, if you want to find out for sure, there’s plenty of booth time available. I can hook you up.”
    â€œPlease. This one is not a dancer. Dominatrix, maybe,” Max said, wincing in anticipation of the sharp slap that Lila reflexively inflicted on his thigh.
    â€œOw.”
    â€œDon’t ‘ow’ me, you naughty little ass-licker, unless you want another.” She raised her thin hand threateningly.
    Cyn kicked the heels under her bed. “Well, if anything, I’m sure I’ll have some interesting stripper tales to share in my golden years.”
    Max snorted. “Cyn, I have just one piece of advice for you: don’t date anyone you meet at work.”
    â€œHow could I date anyone, Max?” Cyn demurred. “You know I’m still carrying a giant torch for you.”
    â€œAnd I’m carrying an equally giant torch for you.”
    Lila smirked. “Giant torch. Yeah, right.”
    Max pouted.
    â€œDon’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be picking up any guys at the shop,” Cyn said.
    â€œThe shop,” I repeated, laughing.
    Tall Tim followed with, “The factory.”
    Lila rolled her eyes. “The old mill.”
    â€œOldest mill there is. But, right. Of course you wouldn’t date anyone from there,” Max hectored. “She turns down every guy who asks her out. What’s the secret, Cyn? Seriously. I know a lot of dudes who would pay me big cash money to know the right way to ask you out.”
    I smirked. “The right way? Like at sunset atop a lighthouse? In rhyming verse?”
    â€œIf that’s what it takes, I’m sure some guys would be willing to try.”
    â€œIt’s not for want of being asked, doofus,” Cyn said. “I’ve always gone after the guys I wanted. I just haven’t met anyone here worth pursuing.”
    â€œYou consider yourself a huntress,” Tall Tim diagnosed in his deep basso.
    Cyn shot him a look. “The only thing I need to hunt down at the moment is some z’s, thanks.” She made a show of fluffing her pillow and crawling onto her bed. I yawned loudly in agreement. Max protested that the night was young, but Lila dragged him out the door by his ear. Tall Tim executed a low bow to us before closing the door, his trademark exit move.
    After Cyn snapped off her light, we sat in the darkness, staring out at the tops of the palm trees and the sky beyond it, listening to the scattered voices from below in the quad.
    â€œSo, do you think you’ll find some