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ღ Finding Cinderella- 26 ღ

-Kylie-

"Gotta go now. See you later, Kylie," Erik said, getting up from the seat and swinging his bag over his shoulder. We just had a study session, and for half an hour, I had my jaw dropped at how smart Erik really was in physics. For real, he put my hard-earned A-minus grade to shame.

Julianne and I said our goodbyes as he jogged away. I wondered why he was always in a hurry, but I decided not to ask him. That would be nosy of me. Instead, I went back to my schoolwork and tried to finish it before my motivation ran out. I didn't like doing my homework at home because I'd still be doing it at school the following day, anyway.

A moment later, Julianne transferred to my side. "Erik sure seems like an okay guy, but I'd still place my bet on Tristan," she said.

I narrowed my eyes at her, giving her an 'are you serious?' look. "Don't start another Tristan talk again, Jules. I have to concentrate right now."

"Hey!" Lacey greeted as she arrived at our table, gasping as if she'd been running.

"Hey, Lace. Where have you been?" Julianne asked.

"Oh, just somewhere..." Lacey said cagily. She sat across from me and grinned. Being her sister, I found it easy to discern her moods, and right now, I could sense that her smile wasn't just a simple happy smile. It felt like there was a sinister motive behind it, and it was starting to weird me out.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"How come you're wearing such a sour look on your face? Smile a little!" she said.

"It's just my face," I grumbled.

"Don't worry. She's fine," Julianne answered. "I simply mentioned T's name, and her mood crashed immediately. It's like flipping an on-and-off switch."

I put my pen down and sighed. "There's a superstitious belief that if you say Macbeth inside a theater, it'll cause a disaster. That's what happens, too, when you speak his name. And his curse is way more evil because the disaster happens everywhere."

Julianne snorted a laugh at the same time Lacey said, "Hmm, let's see if that's true. Tristan!"

"Stop," I barked.

"Sis, you always overreact when it comes to him."

"I-I don't," I stammered. Dammit. I didn't know how to explain myself. "I feel perfectly calm, actually. I... have zero emotions toward him." I lifted my chin and tried to act unruffled.

"Like him or hate him, you can't deny that he has an effect on you," Julianne pointed out.

"Tristan!" Lacey called again, much louder this time, and she laughed. For a second, she gazed past me, and her grin broadened until I thought her cheeks would crack. She returned her attention to me, and I clenched my teeth in annoyance. I decided to ignore their teasing and go back to studying.

"If you do have zero emotions for him," I heard Lacey say, "I dare you to turn around and watch, without freaking out."

I looked up at her, my eyebrows crumpling. "What?"

Julianne turned her head around and shook my shoulder. "Oh my gosh, you have to see this, Kylie," she gushed.

I resisted and tried to make myself look more annoyed. But my expression softened when I heard a guitar strumming. The tune sounded dark, but somehow it felt reassuring. It seemed to be getting closer and closer, and as it did, my stomach churned.

Please don't tell me he's doing what I think he's doing.

Swallowing down my uneasiness and steeling myself, I turned around. And my mouth fell open.

Oh my God. No way.

Tristan stood behind me, carrying his acoustic guitar that I hadn't seen in ages. His fingers were plucking the strings in a quick and smooth manner, producing a familiar melody that made my heart hammer in my ears.

"Tristan, why... why are you...?" I was at a loss for words. He was a cocky guy, all right, but this was the last thing I would ever expect him to do.

"Will you listen to my story?

It'll just be a minute

How can I explain?

Whatever happened here never meant to hurt you

How can I cause you so much pain"

He had sung quietly at first, but his voice—that was quite raspy and deep—grew louder as he continued. People had begun to gather around us to watch. Some had their mouths open in awe, and some had their phones out to record the moment.

"When I say I'm sorry

Will you believe me?

Listen to my story

Say you won't leave me"

Heat grew in my cheeks, spreading until it felt like my whole body was a hot oven. I jumped to my feet, and before he could sing more, I quickly grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the crowd. Behind us, everyone hooted and cheered. We stopped at an isolated hall in the courtyard, where I gave him the most scathing glare I could muster.

"What the hell, Tristan?"

"I-I'm doing whatever I can, Kylie. I'm sorry." His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath. "I know the word 'sorry' is being tossed around so much that people don't care about it anymore, and I don't know if you'll ever accept it, but I'll say it no matter what. I'm sorry for dragging you into trouble in English class yesterday. I'm sorry for all the bad things I said and did to you. I'm sorry for making you mad. I'm sorry for making you cry. I'm sorry for many, many things. I truly am, Kylie."

I was quiet. His eyes begged me to say something—forgive him, forget the past, make a fresh start. Then Julianne's words resurfaced from my memory

"Deep inside, you know that he deserves it."

It. A second chance.

He really meant what he said, Kylie, a tiny voice—my life's Jiminy Cricket—said in my head. He may be a jerk most of the time, but he's actually a sweet guy. Stop being a bitch. Don't screw up his effort. Just forgive him. Give him a chance. This may be the only way—

I spun around and walked away, leaving him behind. When I arrived at where Lacey and Julianne were, they gave me puzzled looks.

"What happened? Did you guys make up?" Lacey said with a hopeful tone.

"Uh, if the look on her face were any indication, I'd say they did not," Julianne replied.

I wanted to tell Lacey to stop carrying this burden of reconciling us because she had nothing to do with this. However, I didn't say a word. With a heavy feeling rising up in my chest, I swiftly gathered my books and pens on the table. I wanted to go home and curl up in bed already.

I was about to shove my English textbook in my bag when a folded paper slipped out and fell to the ground. A memory flashed before my eyes. Yesterday, before I left class, I'd decided at the last minute to keep his note and read it later.

Picking it up, I unfolded the paper.

Another apology.

A sudden urge made me dash to the place where I had left him. My pulse quickened with each step I took. He was now sitting on the concrete barrier, his guitar resting next to him. God, he reminded me of that movie where the dog patiently waited for the return of his master, who was long dead. A lump swelled in my throat as I stopped in front of him.

He raised his head, his face weary. I showed him the paper.

"I still hate you," I said, trying to control the tremble in my voice. "But what I hate the most is the fact that I can't hate you as much as I want to."

He blinked. And his entire expression changed as if a light from the heavens struck down on him. He sprang up, and for an alarming moment, I thought he was going to hug me, so I took a small step away. He dropped his arms to his sides, and an awkward silence passed.

Slipping the paper in my coat pocket, I cleared my throat and said, "We know that no one's perfect, but when you say sorry, at least make an effort not to do the same thing again."

"I'm not promising anything, but I'll do my best," he said.

"Yeah, I know you shouldn't promise because even 'abracadabra' won't save you from being a jerk."

Tristan shook his head, making a dimpled smile.

I gestured to his guitar. "Did you and my sister set the whole thing up?"

"You could say that."

"You guys..." I rolled my eyes, and a smile made its way across my face. "Cool effort, though. Embarrassing, but cool."

He chuckled. "Yeah. I can see myself making the headlines in the school paper," he said. As always, he was remarkably self-assured.

"For making a funny performance? Most likely," I teased him. I was kind of surprised at myself for joking like this with him and feeling so... free. I couldn't deny that I was happy. So happy that I could feel happy tears prickling behind my eyes.

He looked sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I won't mind doing it again if it's for you," he muttered.

I frowned. "Hey, you can't just use the same tactic every time you screw up and expect me to forgive you."

"That's... not exactly what I was trying to say, but never mind." He made a dimpled smile again as he held my gaze. There was a heavy pause, and then he said:

"I missed you, Kylie."

A statement that I was unprepared to hear.

My heart stopped for a second or two, and I felt myself blush again.

"Why?" I asked. "We always saw each other like almost everywhere."

"You are so dense," he replied with a sigh.

I tilted my head. "But why, really?"

"Look, I... I don't know how to say it without making myself sound ridiculous. You might think I'm pulling your leg."

I put my hands in my coat pockets, feeling the paper—his note—inside.

"I'm all ears," I said to him. For the first time.

And I meant it.

No more lying: the days surely sucked without bantering with him.

-Tristan-

My answer was simple: I loved her.

And I was falling harder and harder for her every day. This girl, who was ill-tempered and stubborn, and who always seemed to enjoy my pain, might even wind up killing me someday.

Now here she was, waiting for me to speak the words I had held back all this time. She looked at me as if she were putting a puzzle together. I attempted to speak, but the words didn't seem to come. What if the answer I wanted wasn't the answer I received?

"Tristan."

I blinked.

"You're zoning out," said Kylie.

"Sorry, I was just, uh..." I was just trying to figure out how to say it to you without sounding desperate.

"You know what? Forget it. I think sometimes it's good to never quite know. Guessing keeps things interesting." She laughed. I loved that laughter, and I loved to hear it more.

I smiled at her.

"Anyway, I should head back." She jabbed her thumb behind her. "I still have stuff to do."

"Yeah, you were studying," I said.

With a satisfied nod, Kylie turned away and started walking. I should run after her, pick her up, hug her, and tell her I loved her. There were so many chances. But those should-have-beens only played in my head. We had just reconciled. Confessing my feelings to her was another stage to face. I should take small, careful steps for now. I didn't want to mess things up.

All of a sudden, Kylie turned back to me, her short hair blowing in the breeze.

"T?" she called from a distance.

"Yes, Kyles?"

"Friends? Again?"

Even though I wanted us to be more than that, I sucked it up and nodded. "Yeah, friends."

She smiled again.

Someday, in some way, I would be able to tell her what I felt for her, and hopefully, she would accept it. It would take some time, surely. For now, I would take advantage of this success. I knew, somehow, that every step I took starting now would be the first step toward reaching her.

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