Secrets of the Sisterhood (The Cinderella Society, Episode 1) by Kay Cassidy Page B

They moved past Heather, knocking her arm so her soda landed with a splat on her Keds. “Don’t call us, Reggie. We’ll call you.”
    Heather stood there shaking, looking pale and terrified. The orange soda soaked into her dirty shoes, turning the dingy canvas to a mucky brown swirl. She swiped at a tear, suddenly and with a ferocity I wouldn’t have imagined her capable of, and bent to grab the remnants of her battered cup.
    I hurried over, kicking myself for playing the bystander. Since when did I hesitate to do the right thing? I’d let Lexy win. Again.
    “Hey,” I said quietly, trying not to spook her. “You okay?”
    She chucked the cup into a nearby trash can, not meeting my eyes. Her body was so tense I thought she might shatter.
    I tried again. “If there’s anything I can do—”
    “You can’t ,” she cried, her tension fizzling into heartbreak. “No one can.”
    I opened my mouth to tell her I could if she’d let me, but she was already darting around the building in the opposite direction Lexy and her cronies had gone.  
    Lexy had done her job. Heather looked as victimized as any target I’d ever seen.
    “What was that about?”
    SJ’s voice made me jump. How long had she been there? “Lexy and the crew,” I said, opting for brevity. “Ganging up on Heather Clark.”
    “Any idea why?”
    “She won’t say.”
    SJ chewed her lower lip and watched the puddle of orange carbonation sink into the grass. “They rarely do.”
    “Why did Lexy call her Reggie?”
    Lexy was known for nicknames. Clark Bar, I got. Thief—her favorite name for me—I understood too. But I’d thought Reggie was a Cindy term.
    SJ looked at me, but several seconds ticked by before her brain seemed to follow. She glanced around to check our privacy status. “Reggies was originally their word, an insulting name for people the Wickeds thought could be manipulated because they weren’t strong. We adopted the term in the opposite way because ordinary can be extraordinary with the right motivation.”
    That seemed like a pretty tall order. “The meek shall inherit the earth?”
    “They’re not meek, but yeah. There are way more Reggies than there will ever be Cindys or Wickeds. The real power’s in their hands, but they have to recognize that and grab hold of it for it to do them any good.”
    “Why not just let all of the Reggies become Cindys?” I didn’t really get that part. If every Reggie had access to our training and backup, the Wickeds would have no one to rule. Bye bye, Lexy.
    “There’s no way we could train them all,” SJ said. “Besides, you don’t need to be a Cindy to have power. That’s what Gaby was trying to explain. Being a Cindy doesn’t make you superwoman.”
    “But it gives you tools to fight them with, right? And a built-in support system?”
    “We can help some with the tools part. But they already have a much bigger support system: each other . They just don’t know how to use it. Or don’t trust it. Bullying makes them distrust everyone, which keeps them from banding together. It’s part of how the Wickeds win.”
    Seemed like the Wickeds thought of everything.
    “So does ‘Reggies’ cover everyone?” I asked. “I mean, everyone who’s not a Cindy or a Wicked?”
    “As far as girls go, yeah. Most guys are Reggies too, except for the ones who are all into the Wickeds and their mental games. We call them the Villains.”
    “What about the good guys?”
    “Like Ryan?” SJ teased. “Those are the Charmings.”
    I blushed, despite knowing Sarah Jane would never blab about my crushing ways. Ryan definitely did the name Charming justice.
    Sarah Jane turned to go, handing me my grape freeze. I took it from her, humbled by how lucky I was to know the Cindys had my back. It seemed impossible that I’d gone from total loner to full-fledged Sister in a matter of days. I wished Heather could too. Or at least that I could offer protection from whatever Lexy was grinding into