• 111: Cinderella •
Melody
We sat in a café near the MoMA. It had a rustic vibe inside; wooden tables, white walls, and many potted green plants. Carson ordered a sandwich and a mocha latte. Though I should have been hungry, I wasn't and ordered a black coffee with a packet of artificial sweetener. Our order came in cute white dishes and mugs that looked aesthetically pleasing against the tables. We were by a window, looking out into Manhattan.
"So, I have something for you..." I said quietly, as I opened my little black backpack up. Carson's eyebrows arched in surprise.
"You didn't h–"
"Shh!" I laughed. Carson grinned at me. "Happy Valentine's Day." I pulled out a card in a red envelope and handed it to him. Carson took it gingerly from my hands and smiled. I watched as he opened it and his eyes widened when he saw the tickets I bought for him and inside the card.
"Tickets to IndieFest? How did you– what? Thank you!" Carson exclaimed. IndieFest was a music festival that many of the artists and bands he had shown me would be performing at. It was so last minute, and I was nervous to give it to him, but it was the best thing I could think of.
"Do you like it? I wasn't sure if you would, and you know how I'm not too familiar with music and–"
"Shh!" Carson repeated teasingly, poking my nose lightly. "It's perfect! Thank you so much!" He grinned. My cheeks heated and I glanced down at the table.
"I'm glad you like it," I murmured.
"I do... and I hope you'll come with me," Carson said.
"Okay," I said shyly. The truth was, I'd be happy to go anywhere with Carson.
***
We hung around the café a bit longer, before beginning our drive back to Greenwich. We wanted to avoid traffic since it was almost a two-hour drive. Carson had indie music lined up and ready to go; the perfect background music to our drive. As we drove, we played our usual game; asking each other random questions.
"What are your three favourite books?" I asked.
"Um... Diary of A Wimpy Kid and its following two sequels; they're the best sorry, I don't make the rules," Carson said. I laughed at that. "If you won the lottery what would you do?"
"Move to Manhattan... maybe overlooking Central Park," I replied, without missing a beat.
"That's fair. It's a great view," Carson grinned.
"It is!" I agreed.
And back and forth we went, until we pulled up to his house.
When we went inside, only his brother was home, as his parents had gone out for a romantic evening by themselves to celebrate Valentine's Day. Carson and I commandeered the living room for ourselves as we decided to watch a movie. After grabbing blankets and various snacks, we turned on Beauty and the Beast. I rested my head on Carson's shoulder, deciding to eat a celery stick slowly, seeing as Carson had been with me the whole day, and I hadn't eaten a thing yet. I knew he was probably suspicious of my lack of food consumption, but I didn't want to make it worse. So, when he offered, all I could do was give him a tiny nod and take a piece of the green vegetable.
One wouldn't make me feel full.
One could be okay, I told myself.
***
The next day at school, more people seemed to know about – or at least they thought they knew about – what happened at the party. I was dressed in my own version of camouflage, loose and ripped blue jeans with an oversized grey sweater. My hair was down to hide my face and I hoped at least I didn't have to see the staring sets of eyes on me. Diesel wasn't there again, and I wondered if he was suspended or something. At least I didn't have to keep tensing for him to pop up unexpectedly.
At lunch, I began putting the finishing touches on my painting when Ms. Foster walked into the art room.
"How are you?" she asked.
"Fine," I said. She gave me a tiny smile and nodded though I knew she was frustrated that I wouldn't talk to her. Feeling guilty, I threw her a bone. "It's a bit hard... having everyone talking about it. But I'm dealing." I didn't look at her as I said it.
"I'm sorry. I'm sure they'll get over it soon though," she replied softly. She paused for a minute before adding, "Your painting is amazing by the way."
"Thanks," I mumbled. "Oh! Um, I have something for you."
"For me?"
"Yeah, I went to the MoMA yesterday... I thought of you when I saw it," I rambled. I reached into my bag and pulled out a pen. It was covered in various van Gogh paintings. "I remembered he was your favourite artist. It's small..."
"Oh my gosh! It's wonderful! I love it so much! This is so sweet of you!" Ms. Foster beamed. "May I give you a hug?"
"Sure," I said shyly. My lungs constricted as if to yell at me. I was terrified she'd feel how fat I was even with the oversized sweater, but she seemed so happy that I gave in. As she pulled back, there was something in her eyes that made me think she felt it anyways. I bit the inside of my cheek as she spoke.
"Thank you so much!" she said.
"You're welcome," I replied. I began walking over to my easel once again.
"Are you – are you sure you're handling everything okay?" she asked.
"Yes," I said quietly.
Carson and my friends walked into the room then, her check-in was over. And I was grateful. It hurt too much to think about how I really felt so I kept pushing it down, hoping that nothing would bring it to the forefront of my mind. My hands were already shaking because I didn't want her to ask me anything else.
***
When I walked through the door after school, Mia came sprinting down the stairs. Her face was bright red and she seemed flustered. I took my boots off as she took a breath before shrieking, "You hooked up with Diesel?!" I couldn't tell if she was excited or upset.
"I didn't hook up with–"
"I mean first you take over my school and now the guy I was seeing?" Mad. She was definitely mad.
"You were seeing Diesel?" I gasped. "He's horrible!"
"Then why would you hook up with him? I mean, you've already got your paws all over Carson... that's a little slutty don't you think?"
"He was forcing himself onto me. I was trying–"
"Forcing himself? On to you? As if! You're not that much to look at," she smirked. When my face fell slightly, her sneer turned into a mean little smirk. "And yet you've given everyone so much to talk about with such skanky behaviour!"
"I guess I learned from the best," I said pushing passed her and going up the stairs.
***
I rolled my eyes when the dinner bell rang later than evening and smoothed down the burgundy, long sleeved dress that I was wearing. My hair was braided back into a high ponytail and I was wearing little nude heels. These family dinners felt more and more moronic as time went on but there was no getting out of them. I didn't plan to eat though my stomach burned with emptiness. It was good. It satisfied me.
I was just anxious about how I'd get out of eating in a room filled with judgemental people. I bit my lip and smoothed down my dress again. The dinner bell rang again, and I rolled my eyes before leaving my room.
As I reached the stairs, Mia sighed from behind me. "That's what you're wearing?"
"Yup," I said without turning around. It sounded sharp and the frown on my face would have betrayed me.
"If you're sure..." she said, following behind me. I rolled my eyes and made my way downstairs and to the table. Margot was already sitting there, and she wrinkled her nose as she saw my outfit.
"That's not your colour," she said.
"Whatever," I muttered under my breath. Her eyes widened before they narrowed into thin slits.
"Watch it," she said harshly. I sighed and sat down. I glared at the table, seeing the food on it. Bacon-wrapped and cheese-stuffed chicken, butter-covered grilled asparagus, and oven-roasted potatoes. I fought back a grimace. It might as well have been a stack of greasy, deep-fried cheeseburgers.
"Ooh. This looks delicious!" Mia said, sliding into the seat next to me.
"It does! Grace was talking about it and I had to get the recipe so that Leslie could try it!" Margot chirped brightly.
My dad then walked into the room; eyes glued to his cellphone. "Okay email sent," he muttered, sitting down. "Oh, looks good."
Margot picked her a serving tong and picked up a chicken breast. She served my father and then herself before passing the tong to Mia. Mia grabbed the smallest piece and I had to bite my lip to prevent another grimace.
I grabbed the second smallest piece of chicken and then served small amounts of the other items on the table.
"So, I missed a call from your school Melody? Everything okay?" My dad asked suddenly.
"It's quite eventful over at Alcott isn't it?" Mia smirked. My heart, which was already pounding in my chest, beating harder and faster.
"What do you mean?" Margot asked.
"Nothing. There was some stupid party that everyone is talking about," I said quickly. I turned to my father. "But they probably just called because I missed school for modelling and forgot to get Gavin to call. I'll clear it up though. Sorry!"
"Okay, sounds good." It was gruff and uninterested.
"Mia, how are your classes?" Margot asked, moving the conversation away from me. And for once, I was grateful.
"They're fine. I'm learning a lot. Just that there's no gossip the way that high school had it... you know?" She gave me a sly look.
"That's good. Keeps you focused," my father mumbled, shoving a huge chunk of chicken into his mouth. I, on the other hand, was cutting my food up into tiny pieces. I peeled the bacon off my chicken, pulled the cheese out of it, ripped the skin off the potatoes.
"Yeah... it does! I mean I'm not off causing drama with boys! I'm just focusing on my schoolwork and minding my business," Mia said.
"You should do that because rumours are for idiots anyways so..." I mumbled.
"Are you calling me an idiot?" Mia asked. Her eyes were icy, and I looked down at my mangled, but untouched food.
"If the shoe fits, Cinderella," I said under my breath.
"Maybe just eat your freaking food and stop being weird." Mia snapped. I glared at her. "Nobody asked you!"
"Shut up!" I hissed, slamming my utensils down on the table. "For just once in your life! Shut up!"
"Enough!" Margot yelled, glaring at me. My eyes widened and I looked to my father who was on his phone. Big help.
"Screw this," I muttered, standing up. My dad looked up from his phone.
"Wait, where are you going?" he asked.
"To my room," I said.
"You should finish your dinner!" My dad had the audacity to look genuinely confused.
"I'd rather starve than sit here a minute longer," I said. And I meant it. But then again, I was already starving, and I was okay with that. It felt better than these stupid family dinners.
_________
Author's Note: Hi! I hope you liked this chapter... I'm surprised I got it to you this soon LOL I can't say that will happen for the next chapters though! My summer has been pretty busy and I haven't been in too much of a writing mood. So, please be patient with me <3
Side Note... I'm so so sorry but I'm going to stop doing shoutouts, because there are so many of you and it's actually pretty overwhelming to keep track of! But know that I see you and I'm grateful for you all! I'm going to keep responding to your comments and message because I love hearing from you and seeing your reactions to what is happening in the story!
However; these are all the remaining people I have from my shoutout lists:
If I missed you're someone who votes and comments a lot I'm super sorry! But thank you all for your continuous support! It really means the world! <3
*
I imagined this song playing in the background of the car ride:
https://youtu.be/O8eITJ88Psg
This is Melody's dinner outfit and hair:
The painting Melody did (which I also painted myself lol):
What do you think will happen next? Comment what you think!
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