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ღ Finding Cinderella- 25 ღ

-Kylie-

Every day, every minute, every second, I felt like crap.

I woke up feeling fine, but as the day wore on, my mood plummeted. I felt empty. Weirdly empty. I wanted to look for something to fill that emptiness, but it was like I was searching for it in the dark, not knowing where or what it was. This feeling had all started the night of our fight, and it had been bugging me since.

Oh. No. No. That didn't mean I missed him.

I didn't miss him.

That's just—ugh.

I had been taking every chance to avoid him, but English class had never given me that opportunity because the surname-based seating arrangement had placed him and me next to each other.

Oh, joy.

Today's lecture was about Shakespeare's tragic plays. I wanted to concentrate on listening, but Tristan's strange behavior was bothering me. He'd been glancing at me nonstop; I was afraid he was going to turn into a bat and bite me on the neck. Seriously, hadn't I made it clear that I no longer had anything to do with him?

When Mrs. Cox turned to write something on the board, I glowered at him, and he quickly moved his gaze to the front. How I wished I could transfer my seat anywhere but here.

Groaning, I rested my chin in my hand and tried to refocus. A few moments later, something bounced onto my desk. A folded paper. I flicked my eyes to Tristan, and he was pointing at it, his eyebrows furrowed. The note wasn't addressed to anyone, so maybe it wasn't for me but for someone else instead. Besides, why would he even pass me a note? What would he write to me? A homework assignment? His electric bill?

I looked at the person in front of me. It was Ronnie, and she was shaping her nails with a nail file underneath her desk as usual. She was supposed to be sitting in the back, but she was so inattentive that Mrs. Cox had to make her switch seats with Catalina Gadzinski to keep an eye on her. Ronnie loved the spot anyway because she kept crossing and swinging her tanned legs every minute to show them off to Tristan.

Mrs. Cox was writing on the board again, and I quickly poked Ronnie's shoulder. She turned to me, confused, when I showed her the note. This might be his urgent love confession; I'd better give it to her.

As I did, Tristan scrambled off his seat and snatched the note from my hand, making Ronnie and me gasp in unison. He slumped back, wincing as his chair made a grating sound against the floor.

"What's with all the noise?" Mrs. Cox stopped writing and turned to face the class. No one dared to speak up. With a shake of her head, she returned to writing.

Tristan stooped over his desk again, and I could see his neck and ears turning beet red. I covered my face with my hands to hide my laughter until I heard something being tossed onto my desk. Peeking through the space between my fingers, I noticed the same folded paper. This time, there was a message outside, and my chest drummed as I read it.

I lifted an eyebrow at him. 

With an exasperated sigh, Tristan hissed, "Keep it and read it later."

"Why would I?" The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. Dammit. After weeks of silence, I was officially back on speaking terms with him.

"Just because."

"Because what?"

"Just read it. Don't be stubborn, Kylie."

"You're such a bother—"

Mrs. Cox cleared her throat.

Slowly, Tristan and I turned our heads to the front. And up. Shit. She was standing in front of us, a hand on her hip, her mouth formed in a straight line. Everyone had darted their eyes in our direction, and I felt my face go hot.

"Mr. Hartford and Miss Harris, you know I have been observing the two of you. What do you think you're doing during my class?" Mrs. Cox demanded.

Shoving the note under my desk, I mumbled, "Um, t-talking."

"And what are you supposed to be doing?"

"Uh, listening to the discussion," Tristan answered hesitantly, raking his hair up. His composed façade stood in contrast to my frantic state.

I hoped Mrs. Cox wouldn't send us to detention, or else I'd die.

"When will you start?"

"Now. Sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again." Tristan glanced at me, and I gritted my teeth at him.

Mrs. Cox nodded and walked back to the front. I almost let out a sigh of relief because she hadn't said anything about detention. However, she continued to give us a strict look.

"Very well. Since you two have finally decided to join the class," she said, "please read the excerpt from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet on page fifty-four."

Tristan and I obediently flipped our books to said page number, and my jaw fell to the ground. Act two, scene two. Good grief—it was the famous scene! The freaking balcony scene!

"Please stand up and read out loud to the class. Mr. Hartford will read Romeo's line, as Miss Harris will read Juliet's."

Oh, the horror!

Someone from the back let out a whoop, and I panicked. Why did this teacher have a knack for embarrassing students in front of the rest of the class? I wanted to take back what I said earlier. I'd rather be in detention than read this scene out loud!

Mrs. Cox raised her eyebrows. With a sigh, Tristan stood up. How could he look so composed? Then I remembered that in ninth grade, everyone used to force him into starring roles in plays. This was his element.

Having no other choice, I also pushed myself up with the book in my hands. Everyone began to murmur, and I heard Grey cough and clear his throat a couple of times.

"Lady," Tristan began to read. The buzzing stopped, and every ear listened to him. "By yonder blessed moon I vow, that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops—"

"O, swear not by the moon, th'inconstant moon. That monthly changes in her circle orb." My voice cracked at every word. Was I even speaking them correctly? I sounded like I was doing a tongue twister. I swallowed and continued: "Lest that thy"—screw this word—"l-love prove likewise variable."

I decided to go to Mars after this and have my funeral there.

"What shall I swear by?" He was really playing the role by heart.

"Do not swear at all..." Because I'd be the one swearing like crazy. "Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee."

"If my heart's dear love—"

And that was when everyone else in the class clapped, giggled, and made yeeeeee noises.

I examined them. They all had huge smiles on their faces. Julianne dramatically clapped her hands in the air and wiped away invisible tears, just like what she'd do when she watched Degrassi and Gilmore Girls. Some whistled, some squealed, and half of the female population was preparing to have me barbecued later.

I had no idea how many times my heart skipped a beat throughout the whole period.

I ducked my head, letting my hair fall over my face and hoping it could hide my blush. Peeking through the curtain of my hair, I saw that Tristan hadn't lifted his eyes off the book. His face wasn't showing any signs of emotion at all.

But for a split second, I caught him smiling.

I nearly fainted. He was definitely enjoying this, and no, he wouldn't be forgiven. Ever. I took a deep breath, trying to relax.

"Everyone, please keep quiet," Mrs. Cox ordered, and the noise dissipated. "Carry on, Miss Harris."

What? Come on, give me a break!

Clearing my throat, I straightened myself and lifted my book. I just had to endure this day.

ღ

"O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?" Julianne chanted as she leaned against the locker next to mine.

"Shut up, Jules," I groaned and banged my forehead on my locker door. I still couldn't get over the humiliation I'd experienced a while ago. All those creepy smiles and jokes that our classmates had thrown at me made me want to puke.

Julianne pinched my side playfully, and I recoiled. "Aww, I've never seen you so shy before. It's cute."

"It was mortifying, Julianne," I said with a growl. "I wouldn't have minded it if it were someone else. But it was Tristan! My freaking mortal enemy!"

"Hey, haven't you heard of the saying 'the more you hate, the more you love?'"

"I'd rather eat a cactus than to believe that," I muttered, shaking my head. "Enough of this. Let's go. I'm starving."

As soon as we arrived at our table in the cafeteria, Lacey asked me, "Why is your face so red?"

"Don't ask," was my immediate answer. I slid into the booth beside Julianne.

A sly smile spread across Lacey's face. "Does it have something to do with Tristan?"

"You bet!" the redhead chuckled.

"STOP TEASING ME," I bellowed, burying my face in my hands. "Not you, too, Lacey. It would be really helpful if you didn't join this mess."

"Kylie Harris, can I talk to you for a moment?"

I lifted my head and turned to the source of the voice. Ronnie was walking toward me, her heels furiously clicking against the floor.

"Oh my God. It's Ronnie Sullivan," Julianne muttered, sliding inch by inch away from me. "Watch out. She's bad news."

"I'm going to say it right off the bat. Kylie, answer me honestly." Ronnie puffed out air before continuing: "Are you and Tristan dating?"

"What." It came out more like a statement than a question.

"I repeat: are you and Tris—"

"Okay, okay. I got it." This was bad. I had become the subject of his fangirls' jealousy. "What made you think of that? Was it the roleplay in class earlier?"

"Yeah, duh. Everyone is starting to have suspicions because of that." She stared at me, her eyes begging for the answer she wanted to hear. "Tell me, is it true?"

"Hell no."

Great. The rumors concerning the Valentine Ball had died out just recently, and then we got a new one. How could people come up with these silly ideas?

"Really?" Ronnie insisted.

"We're not dating, I told you." We're not even friends! I wanted to add.

Exhaling, Ronnie pressed a hand to her chest. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought it was real, but I guess I should've known better. No offense, but you're, like, one of the guys, and it would be so... weird—for the lack of a better word—if you actually dated him."

I pursed my lips. Julianne instinctively grabbed my arm before I could rip this cheerleader's salon-cared hair. What was that supposed to mean? Did everyone in this school view me as a guy, so much so that I'd look weird and laughable if I ever dated a guy?

I gave myself a quick assessment. Worn-out sneakers. Mom jeans. Oversized T-shirt. Khaki jacket with rolled-up sleeves. Oh, okay. Maybe I did look like a dude. And a homeless one at that. Switchblades and rifles were the only things I was lacking before becoming a complete Rambo-wannabe.

Screw it.

"But anyway, I'm glad to hear that from you, Kylie. Thank you," Ronnie added, smiling sweetly.

"Uh, sure. Wow, you really like Tristan, don't you?" I said to divert the topic away from me.

"Of course!" she squealed, and Lacey frowned at her. "Hey, do you think you can help me? You two are, like, super close, right? Considering that you are neighbors and all, maybe I can ask you—"

I waved a hand. "Can't. Sorry."

I felt like I was having war flashbacks. Long ago, a lot of girls used to ask me to help them gain access to Tristan like I was freaking bridge, but I had always turned them down because I sure didn't want to be involved when a problem arose between him and the girls.

"So the gossip was true after all, huh?" someone said in a snappish voice, making all of us turn.

Oh no. It was Fiona, and she was glaring at Ronnie with so much fury in her eyes.

"Oh my God, another Dementor is here. More bad news," Julianne hissed.

"Hi, Kylie, Julianne, Lacey," Fiona greeted us with fake amusement. "Looks like you girls are having so much fun. Would you mind telling me what this is all about? I think I just heard that my best friend likes my ex-boyfriend, and that's news to me."

"Bestie, please, I can explain—" Ronnie tried to reach for her arm, but Fiona backed away.

"Shut up, Sullivan, or else I'm going to grab your pom-poms and shove them up your ass!"

Ronnie's cheeks turned red, and she clamped her mouth shut. Julianne, Lacey, and I only exchanged alarmed looks in silence.

"I can't believe you, Veronica," Fiona thundered. "Have you forgotten about our friendship rule? Don't go after a friend's ex; that's what it is. I didn't want to believe the rumors at first because I trusted you. You, whom I considered my best friend. But just now, you proved those rumors right."

"Bestie—"

"Don't you ever call me that again! Do you understand?" Fiona barked. She glanced at me, and I held my breath. She seemed like she had something to say to me, but she returned her gaze to Ronnie, who looked like she was about to cry.

A smile grew upon Fiona's face—a smile similar to one a mad scientist would make when he came up with a sinister plot.

"Ugh, I'm leaving. I don't like this god-awful smell reeking around." She looked up and down at Ronnie. "Someone must've scented herself by Chanel Number Hoe."

With that, she made her exit. Ronnie dashed after her, yelling explanations, but she was being totally ignored. I couldn't help feeling pity for her.

Lacey had a dazed look as she asked, "What was all that about?"

"See? Tristan's name is synonymous with trouble," I remarked. "Girl friendships break because of him."

"Um, no. I think it was their stupid friendship rule that caused all that drama," Julianne answered.

"I feel bad for Veronica, honestly," Lacey said with a small pout.

"Yeah, me too. I think Ronnie is a pretty nice girl," I admitted, "even though she can be a handful sometimes."

Julianne cocked her eyebrows as she crossed her arms on the table. "Kylie, you may, or you may not know it, but I think you can actually see the good in anyone."

I gave her a curious look.

"You actually overlooked Ronnie's bad trait and said that she's nice, so it's like you can somehow see a person's good side despite his or her façade."

"And your point is?" I asked, guessing this was about Tristan.

"My point is that you have to look at Tristan again. Like, really understand him."

And my hunch was correct. Lacey nodded in response to Julianne's comment.

"I don't know," I said with a shrug. I didn't know what else to say.

Julianne smiled at me. "Just give him another chance, Kylie. I know that deep inside, you know that he deserves it."

-Tristan-

The rest of the day went by in a blur, but I couldn't stop thinking about the letter I'd given to her. Had she read it? Maybe not, considering she was still ignoring me. Maybe she had thrown it away and forgotten about it.

I spotted her in the distance. She was crossing the field with Julianne, and she seemed happy. She seemed to be getting happier without me. I sighed.

"Looook, dude," Grey crooned. He was sitting at the end of the bench table, and he was shaking my shoulder. "Isn't she so beautiful? Wouldn't it be a shame if you lost your chance with her?"

"Shut up," I said.

"Stop playing like a tragic hero," Lacey said, who was sitting on my left side. "It's your fault that you've been annoying her when you could've just been honest with her."

"I still can't believe you like her, man," Clark broke in. He was on the opposite side of the table as if he was distancing himself from Lacey, but at the same time wanting to be close to her.

"Yeah. It's like his taste for girls has turned one-eighty, and he wants the tough ones," Justin replied with a laugh.

"Dude, didn't you have a crush on her in tenth grade?" Will asked.

Justin punched him on the shoulder. "Don't make up stuff like that."

"I ain't making up stuff. You were the one who told me she was cute."

A giggle escaped Lacey. "Oh my God. Really, Justin?"

I could only give them a dumbfounded look. Now that explained why Justin had been restless whenever Kylie had been around back then.

Grey waved his hand. "Silence, everyone. Someone's getting jealous."

"I'm not," I grumbled. I was jealous. Partly. And I hated to admit it because I knew I had no right to be. "And yeah, she's the tough type, but I... I know she's worth the chase."

The rest of the group made swooning sounds and faces, and I threw my head back, roaring with laughter.

"Now that's the spirit," Lacey said with a big grin. "Fight for her! You don't give up on something you really want."

Grey twisted his torso to face Clark and wiggled his eyebrows at him. "You heard that, dude? She said that you should fight for her."

Lacey and Clark caught each other's eyes and quickly looked away.

"Well, anyway," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I think I can give you a suggestion, T. I can't say it's a great idea, but I believe it's worth a shot."

She certainly didn't run out of solutions for this type of problem. Her plan could have either a positive or a negative outcome, and I might lose face. But if it meant restoring my friendship with Kylie, I'd take any chances.

"Sure. Tell me," I said.

ღ

I threw my bag on the bed and ducked low to grab something underneath it. I pulled out a black leather case and blew the dust off before unlocking it to reveal an acoustic guitar. Dad had given it to me for my fifteenth birthday, and I hadn't used it for quite a long time. Fortunately, the strings were still in good condition when I tuned them.

God, this was going to be embarrassing, but Lacey had claimed that as much as Kylie hated sappy, romantic gestures, she wasn't completely invincible against them. As I said, I'd take any chances. It was better than doing nothing and regretting it later, anyway.

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