Thanks to Erin for the fan cover above!

ღ Finding Cinderella- 40 ღ

-Kylie-

The next day, Tristan acted as if nothing had happened, and so I acted as if he was nothing, too. He told me we could go home together again, and I was sure, based on how he gave me his puppy eyes look, that he was hoping for another make-out session with me in his car. Fuck no. I was so not going to kiss the mouth of the guy who had declared his love for me and ended up sucking another girl's face a few days later.

Hence, I told him with a plastic smile, "Sorry, but I've got plans with Julianne. Maybe next time." I added 'next time' to keep his dreams up so I could crush them later on, because fuck him and fuck whatever had been going on between us.

"Uh, all right. I'm gonna go hang out with the guys," Tristan said. The jerk couldn't even look at me directly. "But let me know if you change your mind."

Like hell I would. I gave him a sour smile, and he stared at me for a few seconds, seemingly wanting to add something, but he just smiled back and walked away. "Hangout with the guys" huh? Yeah, doubt it. Go enjoy canoodling with her, asshole. Careful not to let me catch her lipstick stain on the side of your mouth.

After shoving my book inside my locker, I slammed the door hard. Several people in the corridor flinched and glanced at me. I only glared at them. In the crowd, I spotted Erik making his way to me.

"Hey," he said. "How are you?"

"Fantastic. Couldn't feel any better," I retorted.

"Okay, stupid question. Sorry. I just"—Erik began rubbing the back of his neck—"I just haven't stopped worrying about you since yesterday. You were so mad, and... I feel like I was somehow at fault. I mean, if I hadn't asked you—"

"No, don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. In fact, I'm thankful for the time I had with you yesterday. It made me discover the shit he does behind my back."

The worried lines in face eased. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"It's okay. Don't worry about me. I was mad, and yes, I am still mad. But I'm not going to break down in tears because of that. That's just pathetic."

"Always the tough one." Erik smiled, but it soon melted into a look of determination. "But listen, if he doesn't treat you right, I will."

Nice words. They sounded genuine, and I probably would've liked him right there. But I didn't want to be the kind of person who would look for a rebound.

"I appreciate your concern, Erik," I said, and I meant it. "But I can handle myself."

With that, I left. Tugging my backpack strap higher on my shoulder, I went to the parking lot and waited by Julianne's car. I had texted her earlier to come with me to Frozen Fruit because I needed to get something sweet to calm my nerves down. She got out of her club meeting before long, and we drove to our destination with the sun slowly setting behind us.

ღ

I got a jumbo cup of almond joy. Yum. I remembered the tip I had told my sister—that when a boy broke her heart, she had to punch him in the guts and get herself some ice cream. About time to follow my own advice, huh?

While slurping her milkshake, Julianne was peering at me. "Did something happen between you and Tristan? Like, a lovers' quarrel? You've blown him off twenty times today," she said.

"Lovers? Pfft. We are not even a couple." I grimaced, stabbing the ice cream ball with a plastic spoon.

"Oh boy. Are we back to square one? Because it definitely looks like we are."

"Well, he did some stupid shit again. And you know what? I'm this close"—I brought my thumb and index finger together, leaving a tiny, tiny gap between them—"this close to punching his teeth out."

She made a sympathetic smile. "What 'stupid shit' did he do this time?"

"I can't say it right now." I stuck a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth and looked at the traffic outside the shop's massive window on my right. Honestly, I wanted to tell her about it, but I didn't know how to do it without feeling chest pain.

"Okay, but does he know about it? Did you tell him?" she probed.

I didn't speak. It didn't matter if I spoke or not because both meant the same thing. No, I did not tell him and I refused to speak to him. My lack of answer prompted her to sigh.

"I knew it. Gotta say, you're scary when you're outspoken, but you're also equally scary when you're quiet. Nobody knows what's accumulating inside of you and when you're going to explode." She breathed out another sigh and assessed my face for a moment. "That bad, huh?"

"Worse." I realized that no matter how invincible and different you think you are, and no matter how much you convince yourself that you're not going to fall for this love bullshit, these acts and thoughts of superiority vanish when human emotions get involved. Now, you can't tell for sure how different you are from those people who dabble in this area. And I felt extra stupid for getting caught up with this bullshit because it ended up with me being reduced to "another one of his collections."

I felt my eyes prickling. I scooped more ice cream from my cup.

"Well, if you're not going to confront him, what are you going to do?" Julianne challenged me.

"Can I just graduate in peace?" I said with exasperation.

"I sure hope we all can. But we've still got exams, college admissions, final projects, teachers who are threatening to fail us, and a whole bunch of other shit going down... Welcome to the most joyous time of the year." She pointed her straw at me. "But even with all these things, are you seriously letting this problem fester between you and him? You do... like him, right?"

"I don't even know if I should continue liking him."

Keep steady, my heart. Don't break down. You're always the strong one.

Julianne only stared at me, disappointed. I turned my gaze back to the window again, listening to the humming of the ceiling fan and the murmurs of the other customers around. Keep steady. You are not going to cry over a boy.

"A good and honest communication is a cornerstone of a healthy relationship," I heard her say. "Maybe you've heard that already, but just reminding you."

"Sure. But first, let me make him suffer by ignoring him."

"That's honestly petty—" Her phone chimed. She fished it out from the pocket of her jeans, and her eyes popped out in horror. "Oh, shit. I haven't turned off my mobile data?" she grumbled, but then she started doing swiping motions with her thumb on the screen, slowly slipping into the infinite scroll addiction while slurping the last of her milkshake.

Then she almost spat out her drink.

"Oh my God."

"What?" I asked.

"I... I understand you now," she stammered, her eyes glued on the device.

"Let me see that."

"Wait, Ky—"

I lunged over the table to grab her phone. And the anger boiled up in me once more when I saw what was on the screen.

-Tristan-

I was walking with Grey toward the cafeteria to join up with our friends. He'd been blathering for about five minutes now about some gunpla he'd seen at a hobby shop. I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying, as I was still rattled from yesterday's incident.

Ronnie's kiss had been quick so the taste of her was long gone; even so, I wanted to bleach my mouth. It wasn't just disgust that filled me. It was guilt, too. I hadn't kissed Ronnie. I had never made a move on her. I had even struggled to push her away because she'd held my face tightly like a damn leech. But today, Kylie had looked at me like she had found me committing a crime. And she seemed to be steering clear of me. She... she hadn't seen it, right? It was impossible. Ronnie and I had been in a secluded area, and Kylie hadn't been there to see us... right? And—and Kylie always had mood swings, and maybe today was just a bad day for her. Yeah, that was it. We would be fine tomorrow. We would.

It had been a stupid kiss, and Kylie didn't need to know about it, did she? If I'd tell her, she might twist my words, jump to ridiculous conclusions, and lash out. She might hate me again. But then, if she found it somehow, the result would be the same.

Grey slapped me on the back, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Dude, we should totally make our life-sized Gundam in your backyard someday," he drawled like he was high on something. "You're gonna take engineering, right? And I'm probably gonna go for industrial arts if God and this school permit me to graduate. Might as well use our degrees to make something awesome, you know?"

"Then we'll make it functional so we can shoot all the bad guys," I found myself saying, thinking how easy it would be if there were no obstructions in our relationship. For crying out loud, I was supposed to ask her to prom tonight, but something seemed to be pissing her off. It was best to postpone the plan.

"Yeah, then you'll be hit first," Grey said. He was joking, but with my mind spinning with anxiety, I sensed something very accusatory in his tone.

"I didn't do anything wrong," I said, which made him wear a puzzled smile.

"What are you talking about? I was kidding, dude. Anyway, we should go for a Delta Kai—" Then he lapsed into another talk about his favorite collection, mercifully not asking why I was acting strange. Sometimes, I wished I could live in Grey's head. It must be very peaceful there.

When we entered the cafeteria, I suddenly felt the walls close in around me. Several people in the area were glancing in my direction, and their reaction wasn't of admiration or friendliness that I had elicited before. It was a sort of reaction authorities would give to people under probation, monitoring their every move and anticipating the next bad thing they'd do. I'd very much like to believe that I was dreaming, or perhaps hallucinating, but the stares were real. I wanted to be invisible so I could run back to Kylie. I wanted to hug her and bury my face in her hair, just lose myself in that moment.

Clark and Will were missing from the group, probably hanging out with their girlfriends, so there were just Ryo and Justin at the table; both were busy looking at their phones. I thought they were playing a co-op game or something until Ryo looked up and stared unblinkingly into my eyes.

"I thought there's nothing going on between you and Ronnie?"

My blood ran cold. "What?"

"You have to see this," Justin said, handing me his phone.

Grey looked over my shoulder and muttered, "Oh, fuck."

Someone by the name of Noreen Brooks had posted a picture on the school's group page, putting "cheating, lying, two-timing bastard" as the caption. The picture was of Ronnie and me, taken at the exact moment she had kissed me. Based on the poor quality of the picture and how it was angled, I deduced that someone from somewhere inside the building behind us had zoomed their camera in a far as it could go. I also could tell that this person had been waiting for it to happen. There was no time for a passerby to take that picture when that kiss had only lasted for three seconds.

"Who's this Noreen Brooks?" asked Grey.

"We dug into the account. It's a fake one," Justin confirmed.

"They're letting those accounts slip through the page now? That's stupid," Grey said.

The other shrugged. "Unless one of the admins allowed the account to join for some crooked reasons."

Grey shook his head. "Someone's trying to tarnish your rep, dude," he told me.

I didn't care about that. Hell, I didn't care about what people might think of me.

All I cared about was how Kylie would react.

It felt like the air had been punched out of my chest.

Oh fuck, indeed.

I turned to my friends. "You guys had better pray for me that I won't literally lose my head tonight."

-Kylie-

My phone hadn't stopped buzzing since the picture had been uploaded. Most notifications were from random kids in school who were tagging me as if they wanted to rub it in my face. Some were from Tristan, who had rung me three times and left me five messages, all of which I ignored.

By nighttime, he stopped pestering me. I spent a few hours in peaceful silence, doing my homework and writing an important essay on my laptop because looking out for my future was my number one priority... until my phone buzzed. Again.

Oh. He's still alive?

I stopped typing on the keyboard, inhaled, and then finally reached out for my phone that was on the drawer beside me.

Three new messages.

Him: Kylie. Again. Let's talk.

Him: I know you're upset about it. This isn't something we can just talk over the phone, so please come down here and I'll explain things to you.

Him: Kyles, come on. It's cold out here.

I sprung up to my feet. What the hell? He'd been waiting outside?

An icon popped up on the screen. Another message.

Him: Do you want me to sneak in your window?

I rolled my eyes.

Me: Do that and I'll call the cops.

Him: Just come here. Please. I don't want to end this day without resolving this matter with you.

Blowing a strand of hair away from my face, I went to my window that faced the lawn and slid the curtain to the side to see him standing by the picket fence. He had his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, and he was staring up at me eagerly. This was making me remember another 80's movie that Lacey and I used to watch, in which the guy was playing a boombox under the girl's bedroom window.

Oh, no, I wasn't feeling romantic that Tristan was patiently waiting for me in the cold like in the movies. Not at all. In fact, I wanted to throw the family boombox that was in the living room at him.

Throwing a sweater over my tank top, I quietly went downstairs so as not to disturbed my sister or Mom and trudged outside the house. I pulled the fence gate open, stepped out, and finally faced him. The lamppost was casting a pale light on him, allowing me to see the wild look in his eyes. Here we are again. Same place. Same time.

"It wasn't real," he fired immediately.

I crossed my arms. "Oh, so was it just an optical illusion, then? A Photoshop work? Spare me the bullshit, Tristan. I saw you two with my own eyes."

"What? Y-you saw it?" His voice rose in panic. "It wasn't what you think it was, I swear! It was a set-up. She kissed me. She forced herself onto me. Not the other way around."

I wasn't shocked that Ronnie would do something like that. "I'm going to kill her first, then."

"What—no! Are you crazy?"

"Oh, so now you're defending her? And who the hell are you calling crazy? You shouldn't have begged me to come down here if you didn't want to deal with my feelings."

He sighed aloud. "God, Kylie, I don't know if you're aware of it, but it's unhelpful when you fly off the handle like that."

That shut me up for a bit. I thought I was winning this argument, but I also admitted that what he'd said was right, which made me feel offended, which then made me more furious. "Well, I'm sorry. I don't know what else to feel at a time like this. I don't know how to act when I find out that the guy who swore to love me would sneak off to suck face with someone else!"

"I do love you, okay? I love you. She kissed me, but I pulled away. Don't you see it, Kylie? This is why she did this. She asked someone to take that photo and post it online. This is all her plan, Kylie. She's trying to create a rift between us. Don't let her get what she wants."

"The only thing Ronnie wants is to have you."

"You don't need to be jealous. I'm—"

I snorted. "Excuse me? You think I'm flying off the handle because I'm jealous? No! I'm mad because I feel betrayed, asshole! And I've wanted to deck you in the fucking face since yesterday."

He threw his arms wide open. "Go ahead then, hit me. Slap me, punch me, whatever. Hit me as much as you can. It's what you want, right? I can take it. Come on. Do it."

He was in a defenseless stance to let me know that he was serious. Taking deep breaths, I channeled all my rage—from the times he picked on me, from the times he annoyed me, from the times he made me feel vulnerable, and from the times he made me cry—into my hand. Before he could blink, I swung my whole arm to throw a hard slap across his face. His head rolled to the side as he staggered backward, an 'ow fuck' expression contorting his face.

"Shit, you really did it," Tristan squeaked.

"The fuck did you think was gonna happen?" I panted. The pain was radiating all over my palm, and I curled my fingers over it to ease the pain.

He tried to stand up straight, wiggling his jaw as if to confirm that it was still working. "I think you just dislocated my mouth."

"Oh yeah? Good. Serves you right for kissing Ronnie."

"Got it," he groaned, his eyes still narrowed from the impact. "You feel calm now?"

I nodded. "That doesn't mean I'm going to forgive you all at once and fall at your feet, though."

"So you're still mad at me? What do you want me to do, then? Give you space, is that it?"

"Yes. A wide one would be nice. An extremely wide one."

He looked alarmed. "Wait... what are you trying to say?"

I sighed. "Let's just..." I rubbed my forehead, closing my eyes and toughening myself up again. "Let's break it off. No more texting. No more cruising around in your car. And definitely no more talking."

"Break it off?"

"Yes."

"Break it off? Are you serious? Is that what you really want to say?"

"YES. Fuck. Making me say it many times won't change my mind, T." Upon saying it, my throat closed.

A dry laugh escaped him. "Don't you think this is funny? You're breaking it off even though we've never been officially together. I really don't know what we're breaking off here."

"Aren't you glad? This would probably be even worse if we were official. I guess we've somehow dodged a bullet here."

"No, we didn't dodge it. We were grazed. You're hurting, too, aren't you?"

I tried not to waver. "Not as painful as you think." I knew I was trying to be as mean as I could at this point.

"I can't believe this. You're deliberately trying to push me away." Tristan ran his hand over his face and pushed his hair away from his forehead. "Let me ask you something," he began, and then took a second to breathe. "During those times when we had fun together, when we kissed, and when I told you that I loved you, did you..." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Did you, for at least a certain degree, love me back?"

I heard a crack in his voice. Or was it the sound of my own heart?

"I almost did," I said. I hoped that sounded as cold and sharp as the spear that medieval soldiers used to ward off intruders. My heart was a castle that had been ruined before. And now it was happening again. So please step back. Turn around. And go away.

"What can I do to bring you back?" he asked. His voice had a feverish mix of hope and despair.

I stared at him and remembered the essay that I'd been writing earlier. Is this relationship worth fighting for at this point, Tristan?

"Why would I answer that for you?" I fired back.

Why will you not give up?

"I'm not a fucking psychologist or a mind-reader, Kylie. You don't tell me the things that bother you or the things that you want. I admit that I'm dumb when it comes to reading you, so it would be of great help if you could take your façade off and just open up to me."

We're going our separate ways anyway.

"Open up to you?" I scoffed. "Fuck no."

"You're making things more complicated—"

"I make things more complicated—?"

"—this couldn't have blown out of proportion if you—"

"—you're seriously putting the blame on me?"

"God! Just tell me your problem, Kylie!"

"I DON'T TRUST YOU!" I exploded. My limbs were trembling, and it wasn't just because of the cold. More words were struggling their way out of me.

Tristan was as still as a cadaver, his face slackened, exhausted, and pained. With his eyes trying to see right through me, he asked quietly, "Why?"

I gave him a probing look. "If that picture hadn't been posted, would you ever have told me what happened? Be honest."

He hung his mouth open, but not a single sound came out. I nodded slowly, biting down on my bottom lip and sweeping my gaze over the dimly lit and empty street. I wouldn't be surprised if a neighbor was watching us from their window and wondering what those crazy teenagers were doing. It was such a beautiful night, and we were out here losing our shit.

He still hadn't said a word.

"I knew—" I started to say, but he cut me off.

"The kiss had no meaning at all," he said, his tone frantic. "It was quick and stupid and forgettable. I didn't think it was necessary to tell you."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, Tristan."

"I was worried you'd get mad if I did!"

"At least you were honest," I replied, giving him a weak, disappointed smile, which made him close his mouth. I swallowed and went on with a softer tone: "Remember that summer? You promised me that you'd always be my friend, but when high school started, you began to ditch me to hang out with other people. There was a time when we'd been planning for weeks to go to the movies and we'd even saved up together, but when the day came, you told me you couldn't go because you were sick, which turned out to be a lie because you snuck out to someone's birthday party. But I let it slide nonetheless because I didn't want to ask you selfishly to stop branching out to other people. I didn't want you to feel trapped in our friendship. I held on to your promise, T... until you tossed me away by the end of ninth grade. It really hurt me when you did that."

My chest was clenching so tightly that I had to gasp for air. With my eyes scalding from unshed tears, I balled my hands at my sides to prevent myself from crying—like how I had done it when he'd told me he didn't want to be friends anymore.

"Kylie, I'm sorry." Tristan reached out for my hand, but I recoiled. "I hope you can find in your heart to acknowledge that I truly regret what I did."

I shook my head. I did acknowledge that he was sorry, but I couldn't be so sure he wouldn't do such a thing again. "Finding it hard to trust you isn't the only thing that makes me want to break things off with you," I kept on. "It's also that... I'm not confident in us. In the idea of us being together. We're going around in circles. It wasn't so long when we had a fight in this place at the same time, was it? I'm afraid I'm actually this fucked-up girl who is incapable of returning the affection you need from me. Then you'll get bored with me eventually and I'll get upset with you and we'll fight again."

"I won't ever get bored of you."

I almost laughed. "You can't say that. You can't be sure of that."

"There will be flaws in our relationship, but we can work them out together—"

"I think you're being very optimistic—"

"Because I don't want us to end like this. I don't want us to end at all. I'm in love with you."

This whole argument felt like a formless, chaotic musical piece with notes overlapping and bumping against each other, rising to a nearly deafening crescendo. His confession was the final note, a slam of the hand against the piano that made us stop. We only stared at each other, for how long I didn't know. Me, stone-faced. Tristan, with his chest heaving and his eyebrows scrunched. 

Then:

"No. I really think you're being very optimistic, and I'm confused and tired and I have a lot of other things to be concerned about," I said with another shake of my head. I rubbed my eyes with my wrist then wiped my nose with the back of my hand. "Let's stop this, okay? It's getting late, and we still have school tomorrow."

He stepped forward, trying to reach out again. "No. We can't end this without—"

"T, please. Our thoughts are all over the place tonight, and any word we exchange now is gonna sound stupid. It's best if we leave each other alone. That way we can re-evaluate this whole thing with our heads on straight."

He dropped his hand, blinking several times. We stood in silence again. Then, he sucked in a shuddering breath.

"Okay. If that's what you wish. Okay," he said. "I'll leave you alone."

"Thank you... And I'm sorry about this." My foot was facing the house, ready to leave him, but the other one was still pointed in his direction, wanting to stay for a bit.

ღ

I entered my bedroom and closed the door behind me, my hand lingering on the doorknob. I glanced at my desk. It seemed like I wouldn't be able to finish my scholarship letter tonight, no thanks to him. I had to hit the sack to reset my emotions. My throat was hurting and my vision was getting blurry again, anyway.