James Gordon was new; saying he could find her parents' killer. Even Cynthia knew that was nearly impossible. But, he was okay, he was nice to them.
Bruce was halfway obsessed with finding their parents' killer, not realizing that it would most likely never happen. But, in his search, he made friends with a girl named Selina or Cat, as most called her.
The funeral had been okay; a bunch of people from Wayne Enterprises had come and promised her that her parents company would be there when she turned eighteen. The lawyers had confirmed that she was the heir to the Wayne fortune and to Wayne Enterprises, a fact that quite a few of the board members had tried to dispute; using every possible excuse except for the one the one they were all thinking; she was a girl.
She hadn't gone to school for a few weeks, but soon returned; if she was going to prove them wrong about her capability, she would have to work hard.
Honestly, she didn't even want to be in charge of Wayne Enterprises; it sounded really boring. But, she was the one in charge in securing her parents legacy, and she supposed she owed them that.
At school everyone either scurried around her or, like Carly, was way too doting on her; bringing her extra desert and trying to get her to take it easy.
But, friends move on faster and soon Carly was back on her case about dating Matthew.
Finally, Cynthia got so annoyed she snapped.
"My parents were murdered three months ago."
She backed off after that, and honestly, Cynthia had thought she'd given up.
.
"Hey, Cynthia!"
"What?" Cynthia asked, stretching out.
"The circus is coming into town this weekend."
"So?"
"So, we should go! I'll get the tickets and everything."
Cynthia sighed, giving Carly a look.
"The circus?"
"It'll be fun," Carly said.
"Fine," Cynthia said with small smile; she needed to get back into the world anyway.
.
Alfred had dropped her off at Carly's house, delighted she was hanging out with friends.
"Hey," Cynthia said, smiling slightly once Carly had opened the door.
"Oh, hey," Carly said, frowning.
"What?" Cynthia asked.
"You're going to wear that?" Carly asked, letting her in.
"We're going to a circus, Carly, it's not a Benefit," Cynthia said, smiling but her eyebrows pulling together.
"Not even makeup?"
"Circus," Cynthia repeated, her smile slipping away.
"Let me put some mascara on you," Carly said, tugging Cynthia to her room.
.
"Why're you being so weird?" Cynthia asked, as she and Carly got out of the car.
"No reason," Carly said "Come on."
Cynthia allowed Carly to pull her along, but stopped short.
Her eyes falling on the two familiar boys with their backs to her.
"Is this a double date?" Cynthia hissed, turning to Carly.
"You'll thank me later," Carly hissed back before speaking up "Hey, Michael, Matthew!"
.
This was awful.
It was half way through the show and Cynthia wanted to die.
About a quarter in, Matthew had wrapped his arm around her shoulders and was now leaning like he wanted her to kiss him.
No thank you.
.
Carly was quite possibly the worst friend on the planet; she'd somehow fumbled it around and now Matthew was driving Cynthia home.
"So, tonight was pretty fun," Matthew started, Cynthia groaning internally.
"Yeah."
"Do you wanna do this again?" Matthew asked, Cynthia steeling herself and turning to him.
"Matthew, you're a really nice guy, but I just don't see us like that."
Matthew turned to face her as well.
"What?"
"I'm saying no, Matthew," Cynthia said.
"Why?" Matthew demanded.
"I'm just not interested, Matthew, that's reason enough," Cynthia said, starting to get annoyed.
"You're not interested in me," He laughed without humor "But, you'll screw around with everyone else."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Cynthia said.
"Everybody knows your goddamn whore, Cynthia; screwing around with people before dropping them."
"I've had seven; you've had twelve; who's the real whore in this situation?" Cynthia asked sarcastically, Matthew glaring at her.
"You're parents would be ashamed of you."
It was quiet for a long moment.
"You're right, they would be…" Cynthia said, looking at her feet "But, do you know what they are?"
It was quiet as Cynthia lifted her head.
"Not here."
"So, I'm going to continue being me. And, sure, that's being a slut who lost her virginity in the back room of a strip club, but, no matter how slutty I get, I will never fuck you."
Matthew looked at her with wide eyes as she turned to leave, but, he grabbed her arm and wrenched her back. And Cynthia's instincts kicked in.
Cynthia shook her hand as she looked down at where she'd knocked Matthew out cold.
"Huh."
Cynthia twirled around to see a boy around her age approaching, looking down at Matthew, he stopped beside her and looked over.
"Did ya kill him?"
"I don't think I could've killed him with a punch," Cynthia replied, wondering why her heart was beating faster.
"Hm," He said with a little shrug "Too bad."
Oh, oh.
All of the red flags she'd been taught were going off at once and damn was she feeling hot.
He turned to leave, which upset her slightly; she hadn't felt this attracted to someone in ages.
"Wait! Do you know where I can get a cab?" She called, the man turning on his heel.
"You're the one who lives here," He said, before sighing almost comically over the top "But, I suppose I can walk you to the road."
"Thanks, um, I'm Cynthia," She said following after him.
"Jerome," He said "And I'm quite shocked that sweet little Cynthia Wayne is not so innocent at all."
"Were you eavesdropping?" Cynthia asked, slightly outraged.
"You were yelling, Sweetheart," Jerome said "But, that wasn't what I was talkin' about anyway."
"What're you talking about?" Cynthia asked.
"When someone says too bad about someone being alive, a normal person runs in the other direction," Jerome said "And you did leave your boyfriend in the middle of the parking lot. So, what's your deal?"
"If you heard our conversation, you would know that he's not my boyfriend," Cynthia countered.
"You didn't answer my question," Jerome said in a sing-song voice.
"I don't know, okay?!" She said, almost yelling "I don't know what's wrong with me!"
"So there is something with you; you could've chalked it all up to being scared. I've used that one before," Jerome said, before seeming to realize something and look over in excitement "Did you kill your parents?"
"No!" Cynthia said with wide eyes.
"I won't tell if you did," Jerome said "I mean, I've thought about it often enough."
Cynthia really hoped that if Jerome could see her red face, he would think it was because of anger.
What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she like nice guys? Or at the very least guys like Matthew?
"Fine then; what's your deal?"
"My deal, Honeybunch?" He said, overly innocent as he placed a hand on his chest "I don't know what you're talking about."
"No, I think you do," Cynthia said.
A grin spread across Jerome's face and ho-ly shit.
There was something wrong with this boy.
Hopefully, he thought that sharp intake of breath was out of fear.
"I like you," He said, putting his arm around her shoulders.
"You saw me knock a guy out for grabbing me and here you are; flirting with me," Cynthia said.
"I admitted to wanting to kill my mother and here you are; turned on," Jerome smiled "Match made in heaven, I'd say."
Crap!
It was quiet for a long moment.
"Heaven's got nothing to do with it," Cynthia said, before laughing as Jerome smiled wider.
Jerome's smile slipped away and Cynthia felt her heart stutter.
"What?"
"You've got a gorgeous laugh."
