However, I thought defiantly, the last thing I want are two spiteful step-sisters. With that in mind, as I passed Anastasia struggling to make soup, I said quietly, so step-mother wouldn't hear, "Turn the element to 4."
I waited for dinner to be ready by combing my hair, singing a little to relieve my emotions. I made the bed, and watched Lucifer, the furry little devil, play around on the newly cleaned toilet (after the morning's episode, I had cleaned it everywhere, taking care to use lots of soap), exploring the bowl. If he fell in, I wouldn't help him out. My conscience gave a little tut. Okay, so maybe I would help him out, but I wouldn't dry him off. Or clean him. Maybe.
I emerged from the bathroom just as Anastasia was finishing up the meal. "I'm taking credit," I hissed at her. She opened her mouth to retort, but I shot her a look. Step-mother walked in, stopping anything Anastasia meant to say.
"You're finally done, Cinderella. I thought you planned to feed us at midnight," Step-mother said, laughing at her own joke. "Oh, hello, Anastasia darling! Come eat with mummy."
I scooped the girls and step-mother some soup, and was about to scoop some for myself when step-mother coughed, spluttering soup down her front. "CINDERELLA! This soup is retched!" Great. So much for taking credit.
"I didn't cook, step-mother. Anastasia wanted to, so I let her," I responded, emphasizing the words 'wanted' and 'let' so Anastasia would get the hint. I also narrowed my eyes at her, just in case the message didn't get through her thick skull.
"Yeah. Yeah," Anastasia said, catching on, "I asked Cinderella if I could cook dinner. After all, one day I'll be cooking meals for my husband!"
A sour taste came into my mouth. What a ridiculously sexist thing to say. "Oh, darling!" Step-mother squealed, practically peeing her pants. "What a wonderful thing to do! How splendid!" I was reminded of Mrs. Lumber.
I snuck away from the soup, not wanting to be a victim of Anastasia's cooking, even if her mother endured it just for her, smacking her lips with every mouthful and claiming how delicious it was. I grabbed a juice carton and slurped it down quickly, having loads of chores to do, especially with a party on board.
"CINDERELLA!" Step-mother screamed some minutes later. I swear, how is it possible she can even talk in the mornings?
"Yes, step-mother?" I said dully.
"Clean up the dishes you filthy girl," she sneered.
Once, just once, I would love to respond with something clever. Even just, clean up the dishes yourself. That's all I wanted. To not be the maid of the house.
As usual, though, I complied to her orders.
I got home to find step-mother already gone. I guess she left early. I started by cleaning up the newspaper that Lucifer had torn up. Anastasia set to brushing her teeth to make her breath nice.
I washed the sink, and then Anastasia barked at me to get my party clothes on. I argued that I didn't have any. She grinned meanly and said that it was laid out on 'mother's bed'. What was laid out on the bed was the ugliest waste of fabric I've ever encountered. Green with blue spots and a greenish brown sash, it was the dress that only hipster grandmothers would wear to a wacky-tacky party. On top of it were little red shoes that would have made my step-sister's feet bleed if they tried to get into them. Thankfully, I had quite minuscule feet-my normal footwear was too big and gave me sore feet. I slipped my feet into the shoes and they fit. I decided to continue my chores regardless, ignoring Anastasia's request for me to wear the dress. Maybe I could find a way to burn it...
I proceeded to scrub the kitchen sink clean and wash the counter.
Suddenly I noticed floods of teenagers arriving on the doorstep. Kids from school, neighbours, kids I didn't recognize-how could Anastasia and Drizella be that popular? For a vain second, I kidded myself that it was because of me. Maybe they heard about me and came to free me. But a scolding voice shot that from my mind. Obviously the kids had shown up because they knew that it would be a parent-free household. I glanced over at Anastasia and Drizella, who were smoothing their identical skimpy dresses. Although the dresses may have looked sexy on another person, someone with curves, or an agreeable face, the thigh-high pink and green dresses with ruffles just reminded me of girls who made duck faces-desperate try-hards. Somehow, my step-sisters had also managed to dig up knee-high matching lace-up high heeled boots that screamed, 'I'm a creepy girl playing dress up'.
As I looked at Anastasia and Drizella, who looked giddy yet overwhelmed by the amount of people. As I passed by them to go put on the hideous dress, I heard them whispering loudly, "Cinderella's dress is so slutty! She's such a whore. I mean, really, she has no self-respect. But I suppose it isn't completely her fault that no man would ever love her. Her filthy mother probably gave her that repulsive face."
I gritted my teeth, lost between amusement and anger at their words regarding my mother.
But I mean, really.
I was the slut.
The people started trickling in, and I recognized some of them. Most of the guests were staying outside, probably to dart quickly if the police showed up. I heard the tinkling music of the ice-cream truck, and the crowd formed a line to it. It would be great business for the ice-cream man. I saw Anastasia talking to Calvin, poor, sweet boy. He kindly offered his host flowers (maybe romantically?), but in a bizarre moment, Anastasia declined them. I was scratching my head for a while about that one. Meanwhile, I thought it was a great opportunity to catch up on my cleaning. The brats couldn't bug me, and step-mother was gone. Even Lucifer curled up for a nap on step-mother's bed to escape the crowd. I cleaned Pino's cage and got rid of a mess Pino had made.
"Cindy," a soft voice said, and I turned with a start.
"Oh, hey, Will," I said, relieved. "You scared me!"
He grinned shyly at me. "Big party you have going on here," he said, gesturing vaguely around the room.
"Ah, well, it's not really mine though, is it? My step-sister's party. I hold no responsibility for this party," I said, smiling.
Will laughed. "So, uh, nice dress," he said, snickering a little. I couldn't blame him.
"I know, right?! This was one thousand dollars, this was! A real bargain," I joked, but then rolled my eyes. "My step-sisters put me in this just to make me look bad in front of everyone," I confided.
"Really? That seems a little harsh. How can the force you to do something?" Will asked with a raised eyebrow.
Before I could say, 'It's a long story,' Girbits joined us. He sipped something from a red cup, commenting, "This is a pretty sweet party, Cind!" Will looked up in awe at Girbits. Both boys were kinda nerdy, but Girbits was an upperclassmate-two years older, and slightly more charming. Although I got the impression that Will would be really cute, maybe even handsome as an adult, Girbits was smooth and though not exactly flirty, he was fun to be around and made me feel special.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted some really weird things happening. Somehow, Calvin had managed to locate another bouquet of flowers, yellow this time, which Anastasia accepted with open arms. Maybe she just wasn't fond of pink flowers. Then, to my amazement, Calvin hugged Anastasia. Was he drunk or something? What about Natasha Gooder? They were exactly like Romeo and Juliet-two families who hated each other-their only link? Two children in love. I had met Natasha. She was proper, slightly snobby, but more classy (Juliet was the rich one), but overall very kind and a good socializer.
I excused myself to Will and Girbits and went to scrub the tub to stop me from retching all over the place. Anastasia did not deserve Calvin.
When I finally remembered that I had already scrubbed the bathtub, I straightened up and headed back out, ready to socialize. To my intense relief, Anastasia was chatting with a girl-black with blue hair. I think it was Medina Hoit, one of the many kids that lived in the slums. Like many of the kids at my school, though, she was nice and good fun. I made Drizella's bed and went outside to clean Gus and Jack's tank. I took a sponge out and was starting to clean it when I felt something touch my hip. I jumped, turning around to see what was out in the dark of the night.
"Relax, kiddo. Just passing by. Sorry 'bout that-I'm not grabby or anything," the guy said, and even in the dark I could see him wink.
I was thankful that the dark could hide my cheeks flushing as I shot, "Who are you?"
"Relax, babe. My name's Don. Don Lothario. Maybe you've heard of me?" he stuck out his hand. I didn't shake. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I looked up into his face. He was pretty good-looking, but at least in his forties. Strongly put off, I backed away, grossed out. "What's wrong, chick? I'm not that old," he said, practically purring. Disgusted, I stepped back, intending to escape this creep. He grabbed my arm, and with his other arm pulled me into him, placing his hand on my back.
"Get off me!" I cried, trying to push him away, but he just laughed. I struggled, looking around for help, but the yard was deserted. How could it be, when there was a party on? "Help!" I screamed desperately, "Help!"
Don Lothario laughed cruelly and pulled me into him, his lips brushing my ears. He placed a hand on my back, slowly descending it...
"Let go of her, dickwad," an unknown deep voice said, calmly, slowly.
I looked up. Lothario looked surprised, but his expression quickly turned to amusement. I turned my head and saw a really handsome guy standing nearby, tall, strong, and probably 17. I could feel little shivers descend my spine.
"Eff off, kid, and no one gets hurt," Lothario said in a light but warning voice.
The guy stepped forward. "I warned you, back off," he said, and I noticed his fists curling into balls.
I guess Lothario noticed too, because his voice turned into a menacing growl. "Last chance, punk, or you'll wish you'd have never been born. Won't make much of a difference, anyway, once I'm through with you."
"Then," the guy said, rolling up his sleeves and smiling grimly, "Bring it on."
In one swift movement, Lothario shove me to the ground with incredible force and brought Gus and Jack's tank down on my back. I let out a squeal of agony identical to Jack and Gus-Gus's as they scurried away, and the weight of the glass was heavy enough to keep me down. My back felt broken; searing pain spread over my skin like scorching daggers. I squinted up through water filled eyes at the fight in front of me. The guy defending me was already hurt, his eye was black and blood streamed down from his leg. I watched Lothario lunge blindly at him-he was powerful, but not accurate. The guy kept blocking his punches and finally landed one of his own. Lothario staggered backwards as the guy's fist connected with his temple. Blood squirted and I closed my eyes. There was a thumping noise, and then all was silent, save for my saviour's laboured breath.
I felt him lifting first the glass off of me, then lift me to my feet. He held my shoulders to steady me. "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned, in a croaky voice.
I realized that I was shaking. I looked up at him. "Yes, thanks to you. Thank you so much."
He did a forced closed mouth smile that just made him look as if he was in pain. Or maybe he was. His leg was bleeding pretty heavily. "He was drunk. Don Lothario. I know him. He's a womanizer to the max. He's not normally that bad, but..." he looked seriously concerned. Now that I thought of it, he had smelled strongly of beer.
"Do you know him?" I asked.
"No," he said, shaking his head as he came to his senses, "But I've heard of him. And today was his last day here. He's moving to Riverview." I knew about Riverview. I didn't think such a quiet, quaint town could handle the likes of Don Lothario. "He was probably trying to have a little bit of fun before he left."
I spat, repulsed and disturbed. "Come on inside," I said, looking at his leg, "You're bleeding. I can clean you up." I had also served as a nurse whenever Anastasia tripped on the sidewalk and scraped her knee, or when Drizella's throat was sore from screaming.
To my slight dismay, he shook his head. "I need to deal with Don. He can wake up in the police station and he can't name me as being his 'attacker'. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know who Chad Luck is," he said, and for the first time, he actually grinned at me. "I'll just make sure you get in safely, and I'll be off."
I hesitated, but Chad raised his eyebrows at me and I went back. It seemed chillier-the grass seemed to crunch with every footstep, and the house was so warm when I stepped in; the chatter, so comforting. I turned to wave good-bye to Chad, but he was gone.
I was shaken, and as I looked at the group of eager faces making their way towards me, I was suddenly exhausted. I turned to see Anastasia giving Calvin a back massage. That was not something friends did. I had to tell Natasha. But then, that wasn't something friends did either. Dang. I marched over to Anastasia and literally hip-checked her into the immense crowd. I was positive that she would have no idea who had done it. Calvin turned around, confused.
"Hey, Cal! Good party?" I said like nothing had happened.
"Hi, Cindy!" Calvin said bubbly. He was so happy-go-lucky.
No beating around the bush. "I, um, noticed, Calvin... Is there something going on between you and my step-sister?"
Calvin turned beet red. Not a good sign, I'm afraid. "With Ana?" he said, and I tried not to retch. Ana? I knew that Ana was just a reasonable nickname for Anastasia, but the idea of a nickname for my horrible step-sister was too great to realize. "Well, maybe... Does she like me?" he asked hurriedly, redder than ever.
I sighed. "What about Natasha?"
"We kinda had a little bit of a fight," Calvin said defensively. "She's not as nice as your-as Ana, anyway." He was careful not to call her my sister-they all were after seeing me bristle numerous times upon hearing the word.
"Natasha is your girlfriend!" I exploded.
"Ssh! Keep it down! Someone might hear!" Calvin shushed me, wincing and glancing around nervously. I had forgotten that they were keeping it secret because of their families. "And she's not really my girlfriend."
"What does that mean?" I whispered.
"We aren't steady."
I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Calvin. How long have you two been dating?"
"One year, three months, sixteen days."
"You even know the exact date! How sweet," I said. He made to interrupt me, but I held up my hand. "Have you two kissed?"
Red again. "Yes..."
"What kind?"
"Do you really need to know wh-"
"What kind?" I cut in.
"French," he said, so red now that he looked sunburned.
"How many times?"
"I dunno..."
"Make a guess."
"Every time we go out."
"How many times do you go out?"
"Once a week."
"What day?"
"Friday evening."
"Is it assumed?"
"Well, yes, but-"
But that was enough for me. How ridiculous. "Calvin, you have a freaking girlfriend. I don't understand what Anastasia could have done to make her appear more attractive then Natasha."
"She makes me feel really good," he said, easily, and suddenly I didn't really want to know the rest. "She said Natasha doesn't deserve me, and that she had been wanting to talk to me for ages but she just couldn't get the courage. She said that I was easily the hottest guy in the school and that she fantasized about me. She said she fantasized about us..." I was about to stop him there, but Calvin didn't appear to want to continue anyway. He shifted, uncomfortable.
"Calvin," I said, then considered. "Klein," I continued, using the other nickname for him that we all thought was really funny, "I don't want to sound mean-I'm not trying to insult you. But if Natasha doesn't deserve you, why would Anastasia deserve you? Cal, sweetie, maybe things between you and Natasha won't work out. But I beg you-do not turn to Anastasia for love. She is desperate, she is willing to do practically anything to get into a guy's pants." Calvin looked very taken aback, especially by how absurd my last words were, and how serious I was when I said them. I turned him to where Anastasia was now to prove my point. She had a boy grinding her behind, and she was bent over so much that her dress was pretty much slipping back up off of her. I turned back to Calvin, who stood there with his jaw dropped.
"I never thought... I never..."
"It's okay, Calvin. It's okay."
I went back to the kitchen to make some macaroni for the guests, giving Lucifer a niblet while I was there.
Just as I was finishing up, I heard a police siren. So did the guests. Absolute panic assumed-people grabbing coats, people grabbing shoes, people grabbing people. I was thankful that Lucifer was in the kitchen, because such a fat cat would have surly been squashed under the stampede. I was concerned that the house would be a wreck after such a large party-not just regular party aftermath. You know, food on the ground, dirt, spilled drinks, etc. I was worried about things such as bathtubs filled with beer and eighteen people. I was worried about the toilet being covered in puke, pee, and poo. I was worried because I would have to clean up after the party, unless... It was time for a little more blackmail. It was my step-sisters' party. They would clean up.
When everyone had cleared out, I could see through the window that the police car was parked outside and a police officer was marching up to the house. As I strode over to the door to greet him, I saw Calvin sitting in our family/living room watching television. "Calvin!" I hissed, "Get out!"
Calvin turned, looking dazed. He had a red cup filled with a clear liquid. Could be vodka, could be water. Anastasia appeared in the room, and seemed to nearly have a heart attack as she saw Calvin. "GET OUT OF HERE!!!!" she screamed, hysterical.
"SHUT UP!" I roared hypocritically, and said, "He can go out step-mother's window! Hurry!"
Anastasia half pulled, half dragged Calvin towards step-mother's room. I glanced around the house as the policeman rang the doorbell. It was clean enough. Plenty of dropped cups, crushed food-but nothing we couldn't pass off as just us girls have a party. I could say the cups were blown by the wind-but the window wasn't open. Ah, I could just say we closed it so they wouldn't blow away again. As for the food... Homemade make-overs?
I pulled open the door to greet the police officer. "Hello, sir!" I said cheerily.
"Good-day, miss. I just came by to check up here. A few of the neighbours were complaining about the noise level, but I don't think it was anything too bad, now, was it?"
"I should hope not, sir," I said nervously, "But I can promise you that I'm extremely sorry for any disturbances we may have caused, and hope for it not to happen again in the future."
The police officer grinned at me, tipped his hat, and bid me good night. It was a little odd-why would he put his siren on? Hmm... He was warning us he was coming, that kind man was. He knew. He was probably tired and didn't think we were causing any trouble.
I sighed and grabbed a bowl of mac and cheese. I sat down, eating, barely able to function I was so exhausted. It must've been midnight, at least. Anastasia sat down across from me, first to brag about the party's success, then to taunt me about how she had sixteen boys at her beck and call (aka, sixteen boys decided she would be fun to grind) and finally to whine about why did you get food when I don't have any? I fetched the brat a bowl to make her shut up. As she ate, I informed her that she would be on clean-up duty. She grunted, "Last time, whore."
I shrugged and headed off to bed. Lucifer was curled up, asleep on step-mother's bed. It was kind of cute.
As I climbed into bed, I could only think of one event from the night. I shivered.
It was for naught, though. I never heard of Don Lothario again.
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