Page 3 of Isabella and the Slipper

“See ya at the game.” He brushed past her and ran to catch up to Jason, who slapped him once on the back before they disappeared into the crowd.

And that was it. Her first conversation with Chase, and he didn’t even really look at her. She was upstaged by a pig.

Chase jogged across the parking lot to his Mustang convertible. He unlocked the doors with his key fob and slung his backpack onto the seat.

Friday at last. Football and fun with the guys. This weekend was going to rock.

He climbed into his car, clicked the button to put the top down, and started the engine.

Delilah Shepherd came running across the parking lot in her ridiculously high heels. “Chase!” she shrieked, waving her hand. She was Barbie blonde and had about as much empty space in her head as the doll.

He held in an eyeroll. He was just too nice. That’s what it was. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he wasn’t interested. “Hi, Delilah,” he said as she stopped, panting.

She grinned at him and adjusted her purse. “Some of the guys are coming to my house later tonight for a small get-together after the game. I thought maybe you’d like to come.”

Delilah’s parties were always popular. Most of his friends were probably going to be there. “Sure. Sounds fun.”

Her grin spread, and she placed her hand on his arm. “Great. I’ll see you tonight.”

She took off, and he could see her younger sister waiting for her by their car. They giggled and jumped up and down before getting in their red sports car and driving off. He shook his head.

See? Too nice.

He threw his car into drive and skidded out of the parking lot. Even with Delilah after him, he knew he would still have fun that night.

His phone made a noise. What kind of noise was that? When he stopped at the light, he checked it. There was a text, but he didn’t recognize the number. He looked closer at the phone. It looked brand new. The tiny crack in the corner was gone, and there were no scratches on the screen.

Dang, he had the wrong phone.

He pulled off to the side of the road and read the message.

Where are you? You’re late. If you don’t show up immediately your precious phone privileges will be gone.

Ouch. The girl from the gym was in trouble, and she didn’t even know it.

He swiped the phone open and touched the messaging icon. He typed in his phone number.

We accidentally switched phones. I think your parents are texting you asking where you are.

He waited a minute before realizing she didn’t have a way to answer back; his phone was locked. He sent another text.

Unlock my phone. 110900

A message came through.

Oh my gosh, your phone will not stop beeping at me. I don’t even know what Snapchat is. You’ve got so many messages. Sorry about the phone switch.

That’s OK. Your mom sounds angry. You better hurry home. We can switch phones back tonight at the game.

He slid the phone into his cupholder and pulled into traffic. Five minutes later, he parked in his driveway. The phone beeped again, and he picked it up.

I’m not going to the game. We’ll have to switch them later. Sorry.

She wouldn’t be at the game? Who was this girl? Didn’t the whole school go to the games?

He tried to remember what the girl looked like, but he couldn’t think of her face. Did she have brown hair? Blonde? He wasn’t sure. She was shorter than he was, and that’s all he remembered. He texted her back.

Who are you?

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