The Cinderella Society by Kay Cassidy

orange soda soaked into her dirty shoes, turning the canvas to a mucky brownish 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, beating myself up 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, the 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 wouldn’t tell me jack.”
    SJ chewed her lower lip and watched the puddle of orange carbonation sink into the grass. “They never 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’s eyes focused on me for a second, but several more ticked by before her brain seemed to follow. She glanced around to check our privacy status and leaned in close. “Reggies was originally their word, a derogatory name for ordinary people who could be manipulated because the Wickeds considered them weak. We adopted the same term in a positive sense. 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 is in their hands, but they have to embrace it for it to do them any good.”
    “Why not just let all of the Reggies become Cindys?” 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,” she 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 superior.”
    “But it gives you tools to fight them with, right? And a built-in support system?”
    Sarah Jane looked uneasy now, so I wisely shut my mouth. I was the new kid here, not the boss of Sarah Jane. Instead, I asked, “Does Reggies cover everyone? 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. Those are 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 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 real protection from whatever Lexy was grinding into her.
    We headed over to squeeze in near Kyra and Mel and watch a very close baseball game. I tried not to ogle Ryan’s fine form as the teachers pulled off a victory with a home run by Mr. Darden, the football coach. The crowd began to disperse with plenty of good-natured—or mostly good-natured—ribbing, and Kyra and Mel waved off as they headed over to tease Ben.
    Fake Blondie had plastered herself to Ryan’s side, so I turned around to