Page 24 of Cinderella Screwed Me Over
I stared at him for a moment, not sure whether to smile or laugh or shake my head and sigh. “I can’t figure you out. Why are you so determined? We’ve had a few good conversations, and I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m attracted to you, what with the fact that I get all flustered whenever you’re around—but really, you don’t know that much about me.” I stuck my hand on my hip. “And don’t even try to tell me it’s in my eyes, that you just have a feeling about us, or something like that.”
He took a step, bringing us so close our bodies were almost touching. “I guess it’s how when you talk about your clients, I can tell you care about them. You’re more honest than most people I know. You’re witty and make really funny jokes about art. And I think it’s cute how you put your fist on your hip when you’re about to tell me all your rules.”
I dropped my fist. “And how is it you think you know all this?”
“Because whenever you’re around, I pay attention.” His eyes bored into mine with such intensity my throat went dry. “You might not believe in seeing someone and knowing something’s different about them, but I do. And there’s something different about you.” Jake ran his fingers down my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps. Then he grabbed my hand and continued down the sidewalk. “So? Where do you want our half date to be?”
Chapter Eight
You know what I was not doing as I scrubbed my bathroom floor Saturday morning? Singing. The only thing coming from my mouth as I scoured that brown crap between the tiles was a stream of profanities. Not exactly princess behavior, but as I’ve mentioned, I’m no princess, and the guys I’ve dated are far from princes—evidently I have trouble identifying the good guys and end up picking ones who’ll hurt me.
Sometimes I wonder if my dating life would’ve gone differently had my first boyfriend not ended up being a huge jerk. That boy taught me a big life lesson about trust. Apparently not enough to keep from making several mistakes, but he taught me that not everyone is as great as they seem.
Snow WhiteCase Study: Sherman/The Prince
My Age: 17
In order to get the full effect of why and how things happened with Sherman, I need to go back to when I was thirteen and my entire life was uprooted.
Mom and Dad had been divorced for three years when Mom met Dwight. After four months of dating, he proposed. Six months later, they got married, and I suddenly gained a stepdad and twin stepbrothers. Mom and I moved from Aurora to Dwight’s ranch in Longmont. Even though it was only an hour drive away, it felt like moving countries.
The entire summer before my freshman year, Drew and Devin tortured me. They called me a baby for still watching Disney movies, pointed out when I got zits, and used my clothes and bedding to line the horse pens for reasons I still don’t understand. And everything I did was “like a girl.” I threw like a girl, talked like a girl, cried like a girl, dressed like a girl. They spat it out like the biggest insult, and I took it as one. I don’t know why. Because after all, I wasa girl.
Mom assured me life would get better—that I’d meet lots of new friends when school started.
Then school started.
Everyone hated me. I was going through this phase where I was all knees and elbows, with string-bean legs up to my neck. The other students made fun of my clothes even though they were wearing trends from three years ago. At the time, finding pants to fit my long legs was impossible, meaning I got asked when the flood was coming on a regular basis.
Two months into the school year, I couldn’t take it anymore. I missed my old life and my old friends. I parked myself at a table in the back of the school cafeteria, looked at the food on my plate, and started crying. I hoped no one would notice.
No such luck.
Drew and Devin sat down next to me, apparently sensing weakness and preparing to attack. I was just waiting for them to tell me what I was doing like a girl now.
Ross, the leader of the popular boys, walked by, stuck his thumb up and said, “Nice high-waters, dummy.”
Instead of Darby, some jokester had decided to start calling me dummy. It caught like wildfire.
Devin stood up, double-fisted Ross’s shirt, and slammed him against the wall. “Apologize to Darby.”
“Uh…s-s-sorry, Darby,” Ross said.
Drew stood on the other side of him and jabbed a finger into his chest. “You tell everyone you know that making fun of Darby means getting your ass kicked by Devin and me. And never,evercall her dummy again.”
Drew smacked the back of Ross’s head with his open palm. “Got it, dummy?”
“I got it,” Ross said.
Devin released him, he hurried off, and then my stepbrothers came and sat back down by me.
I stared at Devin and Drew in shock. “But…why did you do that?”
“Do you want him to call you that?” Devin asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
“We’re family now,” Drew said. “And families stick together.”
