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IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE (as of July 2021): As I said below, this story contains flawed characters (because *surprise surprise* it's for character development). While it's okay to express your frustrations in the comments, I do not allow blatant death threats or language that incites them, even if they're directed at fictional characters. It's not cool. It's not at all funny. If you write comments like this, consider yourself muted.

AUTHOR'S NOTE (as of June 2018): I started writing this story in 2012. I was seventeen, and I didn't know a thing about creative writing. All I knew was that I wanted to write. It was the period when I was a sucker for shoujo anime/manga and rom-com movies such as 10 Things I Hate About You, Sydney White, and It's a Boy Girl Thing (I still love these movies), and they inspired this particular story. That's why, if you read on, you might get some cliché vibes and encounter common tropes.

As a caution, if you're looking for something edgy, something steamy, something 9000% fresh, and something with enlightening advocacy, then this book is not for you. This is a light, romantic read that contains a hot-headed, flawed MC, stupid jokes, satire, stereotypes, and scenes that will either make you swoon or give you secondhand embarrassment. Seriously, I'm telling you.

To all re-readers (note as of Nov 2018): I've made revisions (again) in the story after five years. Sorry, I said in my previous note (June) that the changes were nothing major. As I edited the chapters, I realized I had to make major changes to address plot holes, improve the characters, and make everything better than the old edition. Thank you so much for all your support, and I hope you'll still like the book despite the changes.

To everyone: I apologize for the length of this note. Please try to be respectful in the comments. Happy reading!

**Please do NOT reproduce or plagiarize this. Otherwise, I'll sacrifice your firstborn to Hades (yeah, I'm not removing this warning).**

ღ Finding Cinderella- 1 ღ 

-Kylie-

"Girl, guess what?"

I looked up from the book I was reading and found Julianne Johnson sitting across the table from me. Her twinkling eyes and her wide smile were clear indications that she had just picked up hot gossip from others.

Even though I could already guess what it was about, I asked her, "What?" to entertain her.

"Guess who just broke up with his girlfriend?" she said with a waggle of her eyebrows.

I grunted a laugh. Called it.

"This is his twelfth, right? I swear, the longer the list of his ex-girlfriends gets, the shorter his dick gets," I said. I shook my head and tried to concentrate on my biology book. I wasn't an academic genius or an honor student, but I needed to step up my study game this senior year. Besides, reading somehow appeased the brewing annoyance inside of me. There hadn't been a day that had passed that people didn't talk about him.

Julianne snorted a laugh. "I know you're talking figuratively, but I wouldn't be surprised if you'd actually seen it, considering that you two are neighbors and your bedroom is right across his."

I cringed so hard that I almost turned into a prune. "As if I spy on him. The day I see it is the day I officially poke out my eyeballs."

Her gaze passed over my shoulder, and she suddenly sat up straight as if she had gotten an electrical shock. "Uh-oh, look who's here," she hissed.

I didn't bother to turn around to know who was coming. It was already too obvious, what with the distant screaming of the fangirls and whatever else.

Gracing his presence was something of a daily routine for most of the students here in Broadway Heights, and it was such a wonder that no one had gotten tired of it over these years. He wasn't even a Hollywood actor, a billionaire, or a star athlete. Or someone who could perform miracles like walking through walls or something. In fact, he didn't apply to any of the above. He was even more attractive and desirable than all of that put together.

He was the Prince.

But here's the deal breaker: he never came from a royal family.

Seriously, how many times have you seen someone so ruthlessly exposed in the limelight? So much so that they might as well have actually been freaking royalty? After all, he certainly looked the part: tall, handsome, well-built, well-read.

He had those cute little dimples, a gorgeous pair of gray eyes, and a stunning smile to match. The shine you got from those straight pearly whites could blind you if you dared to look long enough. No, he didn't have a white horse, but he had the next-best thing: a deadly, unbeatable yellow Porsche.

Even his name suited his title, considering that it probably came from one of the Knights of the Round Table in Arthurian Legend.

In short, Tristan Hartford was the very epitome of a Prince: the most dashing and unattainable young man on the face of the planet.

And all I could think to do was roll my eyes at him. Prince, my ass.

"Once upon a time, there was peace. But then the ogre came." I slammed my book shut and let out an exasperated sigh. "And that's our cue to leave."

"Already? I just sat," the redhead asked, her shoulders slumped. But she stood up, anyway.

However, before we could escape and enter the crowded school building, footsteps came rushing behind, and someone slung their muscular arms around my shoulders. Despite managing to avoid his existence for a whole four minutes, I knew that my grace period had just ended.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear...

"Hey, hey, how's my favorite girl doing?"

Favorite girl to pester, you mean. I felt like my head had just been placed on the chopping board. Several girls (and boys, too, wow) were glaring at me in jealousy. They might as well grab a cauldron of boiling water, a basket of spices, and a rope to cook me alive.

Groaning in my head, I shoved Tristan away, and as I turned around, I put on my best sarcastic smile. I didn't want to face him, but it wasn't like I could avoid it forever.

"I was having a great, peaceful time, actually, until you came," I deadpanned. Couldn't this guy go back under the bridge with his friends and stay there forever?

A one-sided smile curved his mouth. "I know, I know. I'm the only one who can give your life a twist."

"Get off your delusional high horse, Hartford. You're not that special."

He puffed out his chest, angling his head to one side. "And you're not as tough as you think you are."

I rolled my eyes. "We are so not starting this. Let's go, Jules."

"Whaaat, giving up already? You just proved what I said!" he shouted behind me, really wanting to make a scene.

Without turning back to him, I raised my middle finger in the air. I didn't care if it was an unladylike move. These people around me, especially that dimpled asshat, had already established in their minds the notion that I was never a girl-girl. But a brute. I might as well make the best of it.

"No. I'm just not in the mood to deal with repulsive people right now," I retaliated out loud.

From afar, I could sense him smirking.

"Jules, how long do you think I, as a minor, would be in prison if I were to murder someone my age?" I asked after we had finally escaped the crowd and found an almost empty hallway to stay in.

"Zero years," she answered matter-of-factly, "because I can help you hide his body and cover your tracks."

"This is exactly why we're best friends"—I rested my head on the wall behind me—"we're both quick to come up with terrible ideas. Hey, we could make his disappearance look like an accident, but it would look so, so bad that it would take years for everyone ever to recognize his identity."

"Sounds like a plan. But before that, I think you have to deal with another drama right now, Ky." Julianne lifted a finger, and I peered at where she was pointing.

In the middle of the hall was a petite girl who had both of her hands on her face. A sudden dread came over me as I recognized her. Oh no, not again. Before I could bolt away, she looked up with tears streaming down her inflamed face, and said, "Harris, c-can I t-talk to you for a moment?"

ღ  

There were only five words and fourteen letters that could describe what I felt now.

I. Hate. Him. So. Much.

Wait. That was an understatement.

Gritting my teeth, I wiped my left shoulder with a handkerchief and prayed that the tear stains would go away without much hassle. Now I know what you're thinking, but trust me, I was not into bringing out the waterworks—at least not anymore. Anyone who did cry was kidding themselves.

"You okay there?" asked Julianne. She had her chin cupped in her hands as she stared at me in a bored manner.

"Fantastic as ever, Jules," I griped.

"So, how was the relationship counseling session with Bella?"

"Ridiculous. It made me want to bang my head against the wall." I traced my fingers on the coat's wet patch, which had more or less vanished, and exhaled. I wasn't that pissed about having my coat get wet, since there was a good reason for it. It was where Bella had just wailed like a banshee for the better part of thirty minutes.

Julianne snickered. "What did you girls talk about, anyway?"

"Just the same old crap. She told me how much she loved him and how he made her happy, yada yada. She even asked for my help to change his mind!" I sighed. "Her heartbreak was real, obviously, but I decided not to sugarcoat shit anymore, so I told her honestly that once he broke up with a girl, it's absolutely over. Oh, and that she's the twelfth girl he's dumped, so it's highly unlikely that he'll remember her."

"Have you ever wondered who's going to be his thirteenth girl?" Julianne mused. "I think their breakup is going to be monumental. Because you know, thirteen? The unlucky number?"

"Nope. There will be no thirteenth girl because today, I'm going to end his game." I balled my hand and pointed my chin in no particular direction. "Let's go find him."

The redhead rounded her eyes. "Whoa, tigress, what are you going to do to him?"

"Give him a good lecture. With a lot of cussing involved."

"Do you think he'll listen?"

"Not sure. But maybe if I throw a few punches, he will."  

ღ

After Julianne drove me home, I slowly dragged my feet to the porch. I'd spent nearly an hour finding Tristan around the campus, but the search had been fruitless. He was probably gone for the day now, flirting with girls and playing billiards.

Next to our house stood Tristan's humongous residence. I saw Mom and Lois, his mother, sitting on the white chairs in their yard. They'd been close friends ever since we moved to this neighborhood three years ago—a month after Dad's funeral—, and I couldn't help liking the Hartford family because they were so darn nice. Well, except for their only son, of course.

I waved my hands and called, "Hey, Mom! Hey, Lois!"

A beautiful, dark-haired woman waved back at me, while Mom answered with a smile, "Hi, honey! I bought your favorite pudding a while ago. It's in the fridge."

I perked up, my exhaustion disappearing. "Really? Aw, yeah. Thanks!"

Quickly, I entered the house. In the living room, Lacey was watching TV while reclining on the couch; her hair, which was two tones darker than mine, was like long sun rays spread on the red throw pillows. She shifted half of her attention to me.

"Uh-oh, wrong timing."

I gave her a puzzled look as I threw my bag on the other couch. I was about to ask her what she meant by that when clattering sounds from the kitchen distracted me. Frowning, I craned my neck. Through the pass-through window, I saw him swaggering around the cupboards as if he owned the place. So he was here all along!

His eyes caught mine. Then he waved a spoon at me in greeting. "Yo, Kyles. It's about time."

I marched up to Tristan and slammed my palms on the kitchen table. "What do you think you're doing?" I yelled so loudly that even Lacey lowered the volume of the TV, apparently more interested in our argument than in the movie.

Tristan winced as he opened a plastic cup. "Fuckin' loud as always. Hey, I don't see anything wrong with eating pudding." He took a spoonful and brought it into his mouth. "They say it helps you ease the pain of a breakup."

My eyes practically popped out of my head. "What the hell? That's my pudding, you freakin' moron! Give it back!"

"Wait, your pudding? But this doesn't have your name on it."

"Wha—how dare you! It's mine, so give it back! Give it back!"

"Huh?" He looked at me innocently. "Can't hear you."

I crossed my arms and let the frustration run riot. Oh God, he was impossible. My stomach was starting to grumble, yet I just stared at the vanilla pudding that was supposed to be mine. I'd been waiting for weeks to have that flavor again, but now it was in the hands of the devil. There was no way I could snatch it from him since he was already halfway done with it.

"Why don't you just go to hell, Tristan?" I said through gritted teeth.

He grinned, causing his dimples to show, the ones I wanted to dig into with a knife. "We'll still see each other there, Kylie."

"Ooohhh," my sister crooned.

Jaw clenching, I closed my eyes. "Lacey."

"Okay, okay, I'll shut up. Carry on."

I opened my eyes and tried to compose myself. "Do you have any idea what happened, Tristan?" I asked. "Just a while ago, Bella came to me, crying her heart out over you. Seriously, when will you ever feel even an ounce of guilt for what you've done?"

"Look, I broke up with her because she kept crying over little things, and she's fucking exhausting to handle. Why would I endure such torture?" He dug the spoon into the pudding again, flaunting his I-couldn't-care-less attitude.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Oh, really? Or was it because you've found someone else to fool around with? Bella said that she saw you making out with Serena Klein at some party while you two were still together. You're such a two-timer!"

"What? Who the fuck is Serena? Are you sure Bella wasn't delusional when you guys talked? Because let me tell you, she's downright delusional. She even swears she can see worms behind her eyes."

I scrunched up my face in repulsion. "How can you talk like that about her? It's like you don't respect her at all."

"She's just the same as my other exes," he scoffed. "They lose their sanity when I break up with them. But what can I say?" He shrugged with his hands out, grinning like a demon. "I'm irresistible."

"Yeah, go flatter yourself. That doesn't change the fact that you're an asshole," I shot back.

"Ouch, Kyles." He put his hand on his chest dramatically. "You can't say mean things like that to your best friend."

I stared at him blankly.

Best friends? That was way in the past! Okay, I had to admit that we used to be like two peas in a pod, but I didn't consider him like that anymore, not even an acquaintance. Not since ninth grade, when he had shown his true colors.

Now we only put on that act when our parents are around, but in reality, the whole thing was only in his overinflated head. Besides, I didn't get any benefits from the charade. Mostly, it was just him having fun while I cleaned up his mess, from his terrible household manners to his stupid personal relationships. Speaking of the latter, it wasn't like I barged myself into his affairs. Jeez, why the hell would I do that? 

Let's say I was more like the resident Dr. Phil, listening to all the pathetic I-still-loved-him stories from all the girls he'd broken up with, just like what had happened with Bella. And I couldn't do anything about it because they kept coming to me like a horde of zombies. They thought he and I were "best buds" and that I would understand their sorrows. Yeah, no.

I let out a peal of mocking laughter. "Best friend, my ass."

Tristan brushed his upper lip with his finger and grinned again. "So you don't like the idea of best friends... That means you want to go to the next level, don't you? We can have an intimate relationship if you want, Kylie."

His words sent shivers down my spine. Just the thought of having that kind of relationship with him made me want to puke.

"I think you're the delusional one here, Tristan. Who in their right mind would stay with you?"

Clearly, it was a stupid question. I knew many girls desired him and wanted to take their relationship with him to "the next level." After all, they weren't in their right minds. Too stupidly love drunk to see through the deceiving Prince-like aura he created and see the true evil, conceited jerk deep inside.

"Damn. This is rich, coming from a girl no one wants to date." A wicked smile slid across his face as he delivered his insult.

I clenched my teeth. "What. Did. You. Just. Say?"

"Here we go again," Lacey chanted. I wasn't sure whether she was referring to the fight scene in the movie or the one in this house, but she was already used to this kind of scenario.

Tristan shrugged. His eyes were focused not on me but on the ceiling. His apathy was making me so hot with rage that I took deep breaths to calm myself.

"This argument is making me lose brain cells." I pressed the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. "Just stop playing around and breaking hearts, Tristan. That's all I ask."

"Have I ever broken yours, Kylie?"

I snapped my eyes open and looked at him. He was staring down at me; his smile was devoid of any emotion.

I was rendered speechless as a memory came slamming back. The end of ninth grade. And him ending our friendship to seek out the popular crowd. It was a memory I had blocked out, and I wasn't sure whether he had asked that question to make me remember it or to rile me up more. Maybe both. The rage that I had suppressed roared back to life, and I was remembering again, and yes, Tristan, you've broken my heart many times.

My fists clenched. 

"Get out!" I demanded, pointing my finger straight at the main door. "I don't want to see your face in this house again. And don't ever call me Kyles!" It was the nickname he had made up for me, and I hated it. It was like a guy's name!

He stumbled his way out of the front door as I shoved him forward and yelled death threats if he might come again.

"Go away! Scram! Get out of my life already!"

"Your life would suck without me, Kyles. That's for sure!" he shouted back.

"I think the fuck not. Get out!" 

After he was gone, I took another long, deep breath to collect myself. My temples had almost exploded from that squabble. I looked at the mess he'd made in the kitchen. God, what a slob he was.

"Chill out, sis." Lacey giggled, her attention back to the TV. "You'll get over it someday."

I blew a short strand of blonde hair away from my face. I couldn't count how many times I'd heard those words from her. Well, I couldn't blame her for having a carefree view about life, particularly about her own. Anyway, what did she have to worry about? Tristan never bugged her. He actually treated her like his own little sister, which was why she kept speaking highly of him.

"Get over it someday?" Come on. Someday was way too far away, for crying out loud.

They said that some people were like clouds—when they disappeared, it's a brighter day. And I couldn't wait for the holy day when that "Prince" disappeared from my life forever.

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