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ღ Finding Cinderella- 17 ღ

-Kylie-

I'd always known that staying within the diameter of Tristan and his underlings' table in the cafeteria was a bad idea. But when I'd passed by, the two objects on their table had automatically captured my attention. Now, all I could feel was the knot in my stomach and the adrenaline rushing through my body.

How did the wig and mask get there? It couldn't be Steven or his assistants, could they? They'd sworn not to tell anyone about the switch. Maybe someone from the drama club had found it? Damn. Whoever the culprit was, I wished they'd trip over a spike.

Tristan's reaction was something I couldn't faithfully describe, but he sure as hell looked like a dog spotting a squirrel. Upon seeing me, he stood up from his seat, his frown growing deeper.

Oh shit.

With my heart slamming against my ribcage, I sprinted away.

ღ

"Seriously, are you and Tristan playing hide and seek or what?" Julianne asked.

She, Lacey, and I were pushing through the mob of students to get to our classes.

"Huh? What do you mean?" I said, playing innocent and trying to regain my focus. I felt like a neurotic mess because I had been keeping an eye on Tristan all afternoon. "We always act like a cat and a mouse. It's not a surprise," I added.

She shrugged. "I just feel like there's something weird going on. I don't know."

Lacey tapped my shoulder, and I walked slowly so Julianne wouldn't be able to hear us talking behind her.

"Does he know?" she whispered.

"God, I hope not," I whispered back.

Julianne spun around to glare at us. "He knows what? What are you guys murmuring about?"

Lacey and I shook our heads at once. She frowned.

"No, I heard you guys talking. What is it?"

I swallowed. "Nothing, really. We just... uh..."

"I was just asking Kylie if... if Tristan knows she's going to Imperial College," Lacey blurted out. Then she nodded and smiled almost robotically. "Yeah, that's it."

I mentally made a face-palm. Lacey was such an expert in making lame excuses. No one could blame her, though, since she didn't lie, not for her own reasons, but if I forced her into it, she could still manage to bend the truth a little...

I didn't deserve to be alive. What kind of a role model was I for my sister?

Julianne shook her head. "I hope you two are not keeping anything from me," she said and went ahead of us.

ღ

Last periods were supposed to be the calm after the storm, the cool-down exercise after an intense workout, but in my case, the last period was the ninth circle of hell.

Calculus.

And the longer it went, the more I looked like I was having constipation. Mr. Cross stood in front of the class like the Queen's guard, emotionless. His lecture on functions and derivatives didn't stick in my brain because, aside from my brain actually refusing to record them, I couldn't stop thinking about Julianne's reaction a while ago.

She'd been upset, hadn't she? What Lacey had told her was a white lie, and little white lies were just fine, right? Everyone tells them now and then. After all, they're necessary for people to get out of trouble or to be protected.

But once they're revealed, they bounce back right at you, a little voice in my head said, and the impact is ten times worse than being hit with a coconut in the face.

I shook the little voice away. Even so, my guts started to churn. I felt bad for keeping this from my best friend.

The class seemed to go on for eternity. Still, nothing motivated us students. At last, when we heard the bell ring and the beautiful words, "Class dismissed," everyone scrambled out as if there was a virus outbreak in the room.

Before I could escape, however, Mr. Cross called me, and I knew I was in for bad news.

"Based on your previous test results," he said in a monotone voice, scanning his record book. "It seemed like you've been struggling with the subject."

"Uh, yeah," I mumbled. You don't say, sir.

"So what are you going to do about this?"

I scratched my head. "I'll... um... I'll work harder, I guess."

He sighed. "Listen, Miss Harris, you're the one who creates your grades, not me," he said. "I only teach you the course and calculate your grades. If you won't do something to improve your current status, then I'm sorry, but I don't have a choice."

In other words, he was just trying to be Gandalf, saying, "You shall not pass."

I groaned to myself. "Yes. I'll keep that in mind."

"Very well. You're dismissed."

Right after that, I proceeded to the library to borrow an advanced Calculus book. I seriously had to step up my game, or I would disappoint those around me, especially myself. I would never see the light of day again if I failed.

It was raining hard by the time I stepped out of the front door of the building. I stayed under the shed together with a few students, waiting for it to stop. Moments later, I felt something covering my head. A purple varsity jacket. I looked up and saw Tristan with his jacket on, the hood almost covering half of his face.

Hide and seek was over. He found me.

Frowning, I was about to take the jacket off when he put his hand on my head to stop me.

"Don't. You'd get drenched," he said.

"Why are you doing this?"

He ignored my question and looked at the gray sky instead. "I don't think the rain will stop soon. Guess we'll be stuck here for another hour."

I winced. "I don't want to get stuck here with you."

He grinned at me. "Then let's run."

"Wha—"

He grabbed my hand, and before I knew it, we were running in the rain. Tristan led me to his car; its top was up. I wanted to refuse to ride with him since he might speed again and finally earn us a ticket, but considering my state right now—wet shoes, damp hair—I had no choice but to slide into the passenger seat.

"Take me straight home, okay?" I said firmly.

He only smiled as he turned the ignition on.

ღ

"If I wasn't hungry, I would've decked you," I said as I munched on a honey bagel.

He hadn't taken me home. Instead, he had driven us to the Crest Coffee Shop. We sat under the canopy outside, watching the rain splatter on the sidewalk. Several people passing by were dressed in heavy coats and bore large umbrellas.

"Just shut up and eat," Tristan said, giving me a lazy smile. "Thank me later."

I couldn't explain why he was being extra nice to me all of a sudden. Or why he had taken us to this particular place we used to go to as kids. Lucky for him, I couldn't resist food. Maybe he wanted something from me, something like intel on "Cinderella." Still munching on the bagel, I opened the Calculus book that I had carried and pretended I was busy with it so he wouldn't talk to me.

Not only for that reason. I actually needed to study extra hard now.

After a long silence, he said, "How studious."

"I'm trying to be," I grumbled, my shoulders collapsing. I took a sip of my chocolate drink, and it burned my tongue a little bit. "You know, every time I hear the word 'Math' or anything related to that term, I always feel like wanting to throw my notebook out the window."

Tristan nodded. "Ah, I get it. Henry Cross is giving you a rough time, huh? The old man's like Adolf Hitler on crack. You should've told me about it sooner, Kyles. I'm a genius in that field."

"Cocky," I scoffed.

"Because I have proof."

I rolled my eyes, taking a bite from my bagel. Yeah, he had proof. His straight-A report card was a solid one.

"Come on, your actions scream 'I don't care,' but your face screams 'help me.' I can lend you a hand, you know? Free of charge."

Just having the thought of me having a one-on-one math session with him made me feel horrified. He knew that we couldn't last in a room without getting on each other's nerves, even if our lives depended on it.

"Never mind. I can manage," I responded, unwavering. "And anyway, I'm afraid you'd teach me the wrong methods."

"Damn, my secret's out," he groaned dramatically. "How did you know my plan? You must be a psychic."

"You don't run out of evil ideas, T. I know," I said, giving him a weird look. I shook my head. "Why am I talking to you, anyway?"

"It would be awkward if you talked to yourself, Kyles."

"Stop calling me that."

"Why? With that tomboy look of yours, the name suits you perfectly."

"You're impossible," I snapped.

"You are more impossible. You just don't know that."

I grunted and looked away. I should stop with this one; otherwise, this argument would go on for God knew how long.

The chimes clang as the shop's door flew open. Several girls walked out, pushing each other and giggling. It was easy to recognize them as students from Melrose High, a private school for girls, because of their blue-and-white uniforms and particularly snooty air.

As they pulled out their umbrellas, one of them turned her head in my direction. She was gorgeous. Her hair was as black as ink, and it flowed straightly to adorn her creamy-white face. Her almond-shaped eyes widened in surprise, and I frowned. Her stare was enough to make me feel insecure for the entire week.

Is there something on my face? Why is she staring at me like that?

Then it hit me.

I whirled my head to Tristan. He was looking back at the pretty girl; his expression was as shocked as hers.

Wait. Was I witnessing a love-at-first-sight scene?

I looked at them like I was watching Ping-Pong, switching my gaze between them back and forth. The girl smiled at him before opening her umbrella and running after her friends. Tristan watched her go, a mesmerized look still on his face.

I tried not to barf.

"It's... been a long time," he said, blinking from his trance.

I knitted my eyebrows. "You know her?"

"She was my first girlfriend."

"What?" His first girlfriend was from a rival school? That was news to me.

He nodded.

"What's her name?" I probed.

"You don't have to know."

"Oh, come on. What?"

"Stubborn, aren't you?"

"So? Just tell me her name already."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Tristan," I insisted.

The corner of his lips curved up. "Her name's Kylie."

"Cut the crap, T!"

"Stop it already, Kyles. I'm not up for any question games."

I let out a loud sigh. Whatever. It was sad to think that a beautiful girl like her had her heart toyed with by a self-centered, not-so-charming "prince."

"Aw, don't be jealous," he said, grinning. "It happened three years ago. We're completely over each other now."

"Seriously? Why do you keep rubbing that word on my face every time—" I stopped when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Lifting it, I saw two unopened messages on the screen.

The first one came from Lacey, asking where I was. I sent her a reply: Kidnapped by the devil. Don't worry, I'm fine.

The last message came from an unknown number. It said: Hey – E.

My heart suddenly kicked into gear.

"Oh my God," I cried. Holy guacamole. Was this Erik? Where did he get my number?

"What's with you?" Tristan asked.

I stuck my tongue out at him and looked back at my phone. I bit my lip, trying not to crack a wide grin. What should I reply to him? A simple "hi" wouldn't cut it, since it's one of the lamest conversation starters in history, but I didn't have any better words.

Tristan leaned closer to me. "Who are you texting?"

I pulled myself away, covering my phone. "None of your business."

"Kylie."

"Go away."

He snatched my phone so fast I didn't have time to dodge. I tried to reach out for it, but he put his hand on my face, pushing me as far as he could.

"You took my phone weeks ago. Now it's my time to take yours." He looked at the message and frowned. "E? You mean, Erik Taylor?"

I managed to shove his hand away from my face. "Give it back," I demanded.

"Nah. Let me handle this. I know what to reply to him."

"Don't you dare!"

Grinning evilly, he turned away and began typing. Shrieking, I tried to pull him back, but he didn't shift a bit. Jeez, was this guy made of platinum or what?

"Tristan! Stop it!"

"I'm not done."

My fists clenched. I wanted to whack his head with the nearest thing I could grab, but eventually I slumped back to my seat, crossed my arms over my chest, and took in a deep breath to calm down.

"There." He faced me with a triumphant grin. Seeing my glare, he snorted. "That's one deadly look on your face."

"Oh yes, it is! Because I'm thinking about wrapping my hands around your neck and asphyxiating you," I fired back. I thought about getting off my seat and putting one knee on the small space of the chair between his legs and my one hand behind his chair so I could loom over him and lock him in that spot. Then, I would place my other hand around his throat. His body would struggle against me yet, knowing him, he would do his best to maintain his tough guy smile, and I would continue to squeeze the life out of him, my fingers hot against his skin.

His eyebrows crinkled as his mouth lifted more on one side. "Ooh, is that your kink?"

I was practically breathing fire, but hearing him say that with his intentionally husky voice made me shiver. "Oh God, Tristan Jon. I hope you die."

"You are being so mean and violent, Kyles. It turns me on a little." He inhaled deeply, briefly closing his eyes in satisfaction, and I felt my stomach flip. I really hated how he was enjoying getting on my nerves!

"Ugh, this is so weird!" I yelled. I slammed my palm on the table, making the plate and mug clatter. "Just shut up and give me back my damn phone!"

Shrugging nonchalantly, he handed it back. I grabbed it just as it buzzed. My heartbeat skipped. Another message from Erik!

I gave Tristan a warning look before I opened the message.

Really? Sorry if I'm disturbing you two.

My mouth dropped. I scrolled up to see Tristan's reply to him. Guess what it was?

Don't talk to me. I'm with Tristan right now.

I felt my cheeks flush. Shoving the phone in my pocket, I took off without saying a word. The cold rain pelted like pebbles against my skin, and in a matter of seconds, I was soaked. I didn't care as I continued on my way.

"Hey, where are you going?" Tristan's voice called through the noise of the rain and the traffic.

I ignored him.

That jerk. He had blown my chance to have a decent conversation with Erik. Could he get meaner than that? What could Erik be thinking now?

A hand touched my shoulder. I recoiled.

"Go away, Tristan," I retorted, turning to face him.

He had his hood up, but his hair was wet, droplets of rain dripping down its ends to the tip of his nose.

"You forgot your book," he said.

I took it from his hand and gave him a dirty look. I was about to turn on my heel when he grabbed his varsity jacket, folded it in his arms, and put it over my head, as he had done earlier.

"What the hell do you want?" I said through gritted teeth. He didn't answer. "Listen, just because you have a shitty day doesn't mean you have to make mine as well. My talking to Erik is not your business. I don't even understand why it should matter to you. Just leave me alone, okay?"

His face remained calm and serious as if my words didn't reach his ears. I let out an infuriated sigh, then I noticed the rain was beginning to ease.

"I don't even understand why it does," he said, almost a whisper.

My eyes narrowed at him. "Say what again?"

He shook his head. "Let's go home," he said, putting on a tiny smile. "It's real this time, okay? Oh, and you'd better cover yourself up because..." He pointed to my chest.

I lowered my head, and my face turned hot immediately. My bra was showing through my damp white shirt.

"Stop staring!" I covered myself with my book.

"What would I stare at?" he jeered. "I mean, you don't have the actual bust line to get us guys excited."

"Damn you!" I sprinted to his car; smoke was practically blowing out of my ears.

Could someone just give him a one-way ticket to Mars, please?

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