I live with my stepfather and his sons.

My mother died years ago.

And I’m the main person in charge of everything going on in the house, meaning that I cook, I clean, I wash the clothes and do the dishes, etc.

I’ve been called multiple times a “Cinderella Case” by my somewhat friend Tobias because of my predicament, and I find it rather annoying. Sure, my life isn’t the perfected one that most everyone wants to live, but my stepfather hardly watches me, which means I can basically do whatever I want when I get out of school. My stepbrothers are the only ones who cause me trouble, really, and I just ignore them anyway.

I’m at lunch right now, finishing the last of my math homework so I don’t have to pull it out at home. If my stepbrothers don’t find it, the cat does.

When I get to the last question on the sheet, Tobias shows up with a nervous look on his face. When he sits down and sees the homework on the table, he rolls his eyes. “Really, E-man? Homework?”

“I’ve told you several times not to call me that nickname, Tobias.”

“I’ll stop if you stop. Come on man, just call me Tobi.”

I raise my eyebrows, unfazed. “Make me.”

We stare at each other for one heartbeat, two, three, four, until Tobias turns away and puts a palm over his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut.

“You sick or something?” I go back to my homework, but keep my ears on him.

“No—no. At least I don’t think so. Yet, anyway.” He clears his throat then places his hands down on the table, his lunch forgotten in his lunchbox beside him. “Hey, E-ma—Evan, are you going to the Snow Ball?”

I blink. Happening next week on Saturday, the Snow Ball dance is a social outing where members of the school go and dance for around four hours in the cafeteria. During those four hours, all they do is eat, dance, flaunt, and gossip. Knowing this, I have my answer.

“No.” A thought pops into my head. “Were you just asking me this so you could be my “fairy godmother” and whisk me off to the ball if my stepfather said no?”

He stammers. “Well—no—not your fairy godmother. Maybe, like the pr—”

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, Tobias, but you yourself know how much I hate dances, so I’m not going. Never. Ever. ‘Till the end of time.”

The bell rings and students start to rise from their seats and head towards the nearest trash can. Tobias stays seated, looking at me with hurt in his eyes. For some reason, I care, very much, but I don’t say anything.

“See you later when I pick you up, Tobias.”

He says nothing in response.

＊＊＊

“Is that all for your order, sir?”

“Yes,” I say into the speaker, slightly annoyed at the drive through man who seems to be slower than a snail, “Yes, that’s all.”

“Aaalrighty then, your total is six seventy-five. Pay at the next window.”

“Thank you.” I move my car forward and put my hand out, palm up. A quiet Tobias—which is uncommon and honestly a bit frightening—hands me his debit card. I pay for the food at the window. He takes his card from my hand limply, usually he snatches it in a playful manner.

When we leave the drive through and arrive at his house, I snap.

“What’s wrong with you, Tobias?”

He lifts his head, confused. “Huh?”

“Why are you—why—“ Where are my words? “Why are you so mopey right now? You weren’t at school.”

He purses his lips in thought, then his eyes widen and he looks me. “I asked someone to the ball today. And they declined.”

Oh, of course it isn’t anything serious. This is Tobias, perfect rich boy we’re talking about.

“Okay. Then ask someone else.”

Tobias looks less mopey now, and more…hopeful? “No, I don’t want to. I like them very much and have for a long time. I don’t think they know though.”

“Who is it?”

He smiles at me. “You know them.” And that’s all, then he moves onto the next topic of the conversation. “I want you to help me ask them again, but in a better way.”

I open my burger, suddenly hungry. “How? They already said no.”

“But I’m sure—oh yeah, I forgot we have food—“ He gets his fires out and eats them slowly as he continues. “I’m sure they’ll say yes after the surprise.”

“So, you want me to be your fairy godmother? And you, my Cinderella.”

Tobias nods, then hesitantly reaches over and pats my leg. One, two, sit. Why am I counting this? His hand feels nice and warm, so I let is sit there as he answers. “Yeah! I know I probably should’ve thought of this a long time ago.”

“It’s fine, I know your brain can’t handle difficult problems that quickly.”

“I’m going to ignore that. But, Evan,” my name in his mouth gives me a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach, “this would help me out a TON, dude.” He takes my shoulders and shakes me playfully. “Come. On. Man. Please!”

“Well,” I brush his hands off of me, “I was going to say yes before you shook me.”

His eyes widen.

“But, I’m going to ignore that—quoting you—and help you with your problem.”

Tobias grins. “Thanks man! You won’t regret it!”

“I better not.”

＊＊＊

A week later, the day before the Snow Ball, I have all my materials ready. Bought by Tobias’ card of course. He invited me to come over to his house, his mansion really, to talk over the plan we created.

 1. Have outfit ready



 2. Ride out in his car, which will be decorated like a pumpkin



 3. Approach the crush and ask—in front of every body—for a dance



 4. If the crush says yes, dance the night away

Tobias and I are on his bed, the notebook in front of us. He smiles, stroking the edge of a page with his pointer finger. “Perfect.” He pokes me with that same finger, laughing when I bat his hands away. He sighs, looking at me wistfully, then drops his gaze back to the paper. “I hope this works.”

“I do so too, then you’ll have someone else to bother besides me.” But this ugly feeling is deep inside of me, clawing at my stomach. “Ugh. I think I’m sick.”

“No!” Tobias’ voice is serious. “You can’t be sick—how am I going to—I mean, I can’t do this without you.”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, it’s not like I’m going to be there. The fairy godmother wasn’t there for Cinderella, was she?”

Tobias goes quiet at that. He sighs, “Yeah…I guess so.”

“All you have to remember is the plan and it’ll be fine,” I continue, rising from the bed to reach for my shoes, “I, on the other hand, am going to watch the rest of my show after I finish cleaning up tomorrow.”

A hand grabs my wrist, tightly, pulling me back onto the bed. Tobias is red, his hands holding my wrists, and our chests together as we lay on our sides. It doesn’t seem like he’s breathing, but neither am I.

“Er. I didn’t mean to do that. I just…I just didn’t want you to go,” he says, voice low and his breath tickling the bridge my nose.

“You could have just verbally communicated that.”

“Yeah, I guess I could’ve.” His grip on me doesn’t loosen; it does the opposite. “Evan, say you’ll be there, and I’ll let you go.”

I frown. I’m not going to that ball. Like I said before: Never. Ever. ‘Till the end of time.

“You can’t keep me here forever.”

“You wanna test that theory?”

“I’d annoy you to death.”

“Evan, you already do, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“I suppose you are. Fine. I’ll help.”

He lets me go, and I leave the bed r finally grab my shoes. While I place them on, I say, “But I’m only staying until eight. Then I leave.”

Tobias shakes his head. “The ball starts at seven. You’ll only be there for an hour; that’s not enough time.”

“I know when it starts, and you’ll have plenty of time to ask your crush and get a dance or two.” Steeled in my resolve, I stand by the door, waiting for Tobias to put his own shoes on. He doesn’t. Instead, he stares at me from the bed with a look that has been coming more frequently these past few days.

“Nine.” He presses.

Ah. So we’re playing this game.

Despite myself, I grin. Tobias’ mouth twitches and his eyes search my face expectantly. What’s he trying to find? A weakness?

“Eight.” I repeat.

“H-how about eight thirty. Splitting half and half. Does that work with your time?”

I pause dramatically to pull on the suspense. Debating is a love of mine, I love being right and I love the rush to win next time when I lose. This time, it’s a draw.

“Deal. Now drive me home, Tobias.”

He almost falls off his bed in eagerness. A part of me wishes that he didn’t want to go to the ball. That he wanted to stay with me and stay up all night in my room watching my British murder shows and getting full on nothing but popcorn and the sounds of our gasps.

There I go again.

＊＊＊

The cafeteria is loud. Loud, crowded, and loud.

Oh, did I say loud, already?

Tobias isn’t here yet, so I go out the doors to the outside section of the party to wait for him. I check the time on my phone: ７：１２. He’s late, he said he’d get here by seven o’ five.

Just when I’m about to go inside, I hear a familiar car and see bright shade of orange. Students watch as the pumpkin car parks beside the grass and the driver steps out of the car in a dazzling shade of blue.

Perfect, I think, looking around at the crowd that has formed, if his crush is here, no doubt they are amazed.

I expect him to walk past me after giving me a glance, but he continues on forward, a smile on his face and something clutched in his hand. The crowd parts for him, and they all watch as he comes to a stop in front of me.

“I have traveled all throughout the land to find my true love,” Tobias booms in a theatrical voice to the crowd before tuning back to me. No doubt my face is stunned. Why is he…?

“My true love, who left this bracelet the night I fell in love with him.” He opens his hand and I see a D.I.Y bracelet with four square beads draped on it. The letters spell my name.

E-V-A-N.

“And now, I have found him,” the crowd is quiet, watching the show. I feel a bit queasy, but when I look up to see Tobias smiling at me, his outfit complimenting his skin wonderfully, that feeling is replaced by something else. “We must see if the bracelet fits—don’t you all think so?”

The crowd cheers as he places his hand out in question. I give him my wrist. The bracelet slides on nicely, hugging to my wrist like a second skin. He throws his hands up and yells triumphantly—

“It fits!”

And as the crowd goes wild, I mutter to him. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Tobias gives me a smile, then leans down to kiss my cheek. I blush. Furious at my reaction, I cover my face.

“Of course.” He kisses me again, happy.

But let me just tell you—

I, respectfully, am not Cinderella.