Page 17 of Cinderella Screwed Me Over
I wasn’t the only person in the elevator. Jake—of course—was in the corner. He smelled like a combination of fresh, soapy scent and that amazing-smelling musky cologne. It filled up the elevator, and I wanted to take a big whiff and hold it in all day.
“Hey,” I said. “Off to work?”
He nodded. Nothing else.
Is he snubbing me? Maybe it’s because of last night.
I twisted a strand of hair around my finger. “I should’ve said hi last night, but it was kind of crazy.”
“You had company. I get it,” he said, his voice lacking its usual carefree quality.
I realized he’d probably gotten the wrong idea about who Drew was, and suddenly, I was desperate to explain. Because first of all, ew, and second of all, I didn’t want him thinking I brought guys home all the time. “That was my brother. He was in town for the night, and we actually spent most of it trying to land him a new girl. I won’t know for a few weeks how successful it was.” The memory of Drew saying in front of Jake how mean I was came rushing back to me. I put my hand on his arm. “You know, Drew was exaggerating. I’m a nice person. Most of the time.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile on his lips. “So, you didn’t really slap a guy in the middle of someone’s wedding?”
I bit my lip. “Technically, it was at the reception, and I know it sounds bad out of context, but I swear he deserved it.”
Jake looked down at me and I noticed again how blue his eyes were. My gaze moved to his lips.
Mayday, mayday, mayday.
I dropped my hand from his arm and swallowed.
“And what did I do to deserve the brush-off?” he asked.
The elevator doors opened and I let out a sigh of relief. Saved by thebing! I moved for the doors, but Jake beat me to them. Only he put a hand out to hold them open and turned to face me, eyebrows raised. So much for escaping the question.
I could feel every beat of my heart, and the walls of the elevator seemed to be closing in on me. “It’s nothing against you personally. You seem nice—you’re very charming, actually, which I’m sure you know. But you live in my building, and I’ve got certain rules about that kind of thing. Before I stuck to the rules, my life was much messier.” I ducked under his arm—damn he smelled good—and started for my car.
Jake stayed by my side, our footsteps echoing through the garage. “I live in the wrong place and just like that, I’ve got no chance with you?”
I kept my eyes on my car, afraid that if I looked at him, I might give in. And yes, last night I’d considered trying one little date. But he noticed too much, and he pushed against boundaries I wasn’t ready to let go of. It was time I pushed back. “Why have you chosen to pursue me? I’m not playing hard to get. It’s not some game you’ve got to win.” I pointed my remote at my silver Dodge Durango and pushed the unlock button.
Jake stepped ahead of me and opened the car door for me. “I’m sure plenty of guys hit on you. Obviously you’re beautiful. But there’s something different about you that makes me not want to give up.”
“You don’t even know me,” I said.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Cinderella’s.”
Two creases formed between Jake’s eyebrows. “Cinderella’s?”
“Yeah, Cinderella screwed me over.” Without any more explanation, I got into my car, pulled the door closed, and fired up the engine.
…
My seventh birthday was one that stuck out among the rest of my birthdays. Mom and Dad had been fighting a lot, but on that day they’d come together and thrown me a princess party at the local McDonald’s. I wore my Cinderella dress; the other girls were decked out in various other princess costumes. (Mine was the most authentic—Mom had gone all out.)
Another party was going on at the same time. A group of boys dressed as superheroes sat across the room. Their fighting and yelling drifted over, interrupting our party. The girls and I frowned, shook our heads, and wrinkled our noses at them.Ugh. Boys.
Mom took a picture of all my friends and me in our dresses, which remained remarkably clean. In the photo, you can see the boys in the background. They have ketchup on their clothes, and for some reason, Batman has a sword—basically, it’s an unorganized mess.
I could’ve saved a lot of stress over the years if I’d just realized then that boys didn’t want to be princes from fairy tales. They wanted to act cool, talk cool, and get into fights.
I made the mistake of thinking they’d grow out of it someday.
CinderellaCase Study: Charlie/Prince Charming
