Cinderella Wore Sneakers

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by H. E. Connor




  Cinderella Wore Sneakers

  H. E. Connor

  Published by Info Block, 2017.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  CINDERELLA WORE SNEAKERS

  First edition. October 19, 2017.

  Copyright © 2017 H. E. Connor.

  Written by H. E. Connor.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Cinderella Wore Sneakers | By H.E. Connor | Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

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  About the Author

  Cinderella Wore Sneakers

  By H.E. Connor

  Chapter 1

  BOBBIE TURNER LOOKED out over the crowded gymnasium and wanted to turn tail and run. But no. Turners don’t turn away. Damn it. There were times she hated her father’s little peppy motto.

  She glanced at her watch. It was okay. She just had to get through four hours of this. Oh, God. Four hours! No, don’t panic. She could do this. She fidgeted with the mask on her face, trying to set it in a comfortable position.

  A masquerade ball. Of all the themes the fall prom organizing committee could come up with, it had to be one where you had to wear a dress and a hard, uncomfortable mask that blocked your peripheral sight. It was Halloween, for crying out loud. What she wouldn’t give for a horrific zombie scar or a Day of the Dead pasty face. But no, this year they wanted classy. Elegant. Dresses. Obviously Charmaine Buxton, head of the prom committee and resident bitch witch wanted to get her inner princess on. Bobbie had to admit, though, the prom committee had done a great job with the decorations. It really did feel like a ballroom, with bolts of fabric dipping from the chandelier in the center of the room and out to the edges. Very opulent.

  Okay, let’s get this over with. Bobbie took a determined step into the crowd, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floor. She glanced down. Good. You couldn’t see her shoes unless she kicked up the skirt of her full-length gown. She’d just take small, ladylike steps...

  She snorted as she made her way over to the drinks stand. Screw ladylike. Her shoes were comfortable, a darn sight more comfortable than some of the stilettos she could see wobbling around the room.

  “Oh, my god, what is that girl wearing?”

  Bobbie stiffened at the familiar voice, the voice that had tormented her since kindergarten. Her hand was outstretched toward the plastic cups full of fruit punch. Please don’t let her mean me. Please don’t let her mean—

  “I can’t decide what color that is...”

  Yep. Charmaine Buxton was definitely talking about her. Bobbie had had a similar challenge naming the hue of the thrift shop gown her mother had found for her. She forced herself to pick up a cup, then pasted an insincere smile on her face as she turned to face her too-pretty nemesis. Charmaine was easily recognizable, despite her bejeweled sky-blue mask. She wore a frothy, pale blue gown with a gauzy overskirt that twinkled under the lights, and sported a cleavage that just had to be enhanced. She was surrounded by her three-person posse, the shadows who followed the girl everywhere. Bobbie had mentally re-named them Huey, Dewey and Louie years ago.

  “It looks like she puked all over herself,” Dewey stated, then smirked.

  “I was going for baby-poo brown, personally,” Bobbie said, and had a brief moment of satisfaction when Charmaine blinked in surprise. She was obviously expecting Bobbie to crumble. Well, apparently Turners didn’t crumble, either, no matter what life sent them. The girl frowned, tilting her head to the side. “Who are you?”

  Bobbie hesitated before taking a brief sip of her drink. Charmaine didn’t recognize her? How could she not? Charmaine had made it her mission to tease and torment her since Bobbie had blackened her eye with a baseball in kindergarten. Accidentally, of course. Not. She didn’t know whether to feel offended or ecstatic. She eyed Huey, Dewey and Louie, noticing the similar blank expressions behind the mask. She looked back again at Charmaine and her obvious confusion.

  “Cindy,” Bobbie lied. If they didn’t recognize her, she could virtually get away with saying anything. For a brief moment she was tempted to tell Charmaine exactly what she thought. Nah. Charmaine was the bitch, not her. Besides, she had more serious things to worry about in life than a bunch of mean girls. She was supposed to enjoy tonight. Dad’s orders. She raised her cup. “Have a nice night.”

  Charmaine rolled her eyes and brushed forcefully past her. Something hard and sharp dug into the top of Bobbie’s foot. Bobbie gasped at the pain, then hopped as each of the three shadows followed their fearless leader.

  Damn it. Charmaine had stepped on her foot on purpose. Bobbie pressed her lips together to avoid crying out in pain, or just plain crying, and limped over to the exit that led out toward the playing fields. Damn it, that really, really hurt. If she could just get out before anybody noticed...

  A strong hand clasped her elbow, and she turned, startled. A guy stood at her side, wearing black trousers, shirt and jacket—no tie—and a mask that could have been a jewel thief, Batman—or maybe Zorro.

  Chapter 2

  She had no problem recognizing Lucas Jordan, junior star of the basketball court and Charmaine Buxton’s current crush.

  “Let me help you,” he offered. “I saw what happened...”

  And now her humiliation was complete. “Uh, I’m fine—”

  “No, you’re hurt. Here, use me like a crutch.” He slung her arm over his shoulders—oh, wow, he had really broad shoulders—and walked her through the doorway and over to one of the benches that was nailed against the wall outside. Her lips rubbed inward. His body was pressed against her side, and all she could feel was hard muscle, and he smelled divine. She inhaled as he lowered her to the bench, trying to get as much of his scent before he left. Yep, she was sniffing the jock. She’d found an all new low.

  “Uh, thank you,” she said in a low voice, and reached down to rub the top of her converse shoe.

  He chuckled, the sound warm and smooth in the gloom beyond the ballroom gymnasium as he looked down at her feet. “You’re wearing sneakers?”

  She shrugged as she hiked the long, flowing, baby-poo brown skirt up so that she could rest her ankle on her opposite knee. “They’re more comfortable,” she muttered defensively.

  Lucas raised his hands. “Oh, hey, I’m not dissing your wardrobe. I think it’s awesome, actually.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “Awesome? Your girlfriend is Charmaine Buxton, who channels the Kardashians, and you think my sneakers are awesome?” She shook her head in disbelief. She’d drawn on her shoes, so they weren’t even clean. She looked down at the little peace sign on her left toe. She sucked at art. She’d drawn it the day her brother had last shipped out, and it was a constant reminder of him. There was no way she was cleaning it off. Not now.

  Lucas shrugged as he sat down on the bench next to her. “I like it when people keep it real,” he said. “And Charmaine and I are just dating.”

  Bobbie shifted to give him a little more room on the seat. “Uh-huh.” Charmaine seemed to think they were a legal age away from marriage. “Um, look, thanks for helping me, but it’s fine if you want to go back inside...” She kept her eyes averted as she undid the double knot on her sneakers and slipped her shoe off.

  Lucas grimaced. “Nah. I need a breather. It’s too ... busy.”

  “Must be hard, being so popular...” She tried to be sincere. Really. She winced as she rubbed her foot. Fortunately she couldn’t feel any puncture wounds through her sock, but she was
n’t about to remove it to check. Not in front of Lucas Jordan.

  Lucas gave her a half-hearted smile, then frowned. “It’s not fair. You obviously know who I am, but I have no clue who you are...?” He raised his hand toward her mask, and Bobbie pulled away, dodging his grasp. She couldn’t help the frown that tugged at her eyebrows. Lucas, too? God, was she really that invisible? That inconsequential? They’d all gone to the same elementary school, for crying out loud. Did a revoltingly-colored dress, a careless up-do, and a mask seriously make that much of a difference to a person’s appearance? God, if only it was that easy to be someone else. The concept was so damn tempting. Just for one night, to live outside of her normal skin...

  “Call me Cindy,” she muttered.

  Lucas tsked. “That’s the same line you used on Charmaine. Let me guess, short for Cinderella?”

  “Yeah. At midnight I’ll turn back into a pumpkin.”

  Lucas looked at the curls her mother had pinned to the top of her head, toured down over the mask, to her mouth, and then met her gaze. He slowly shook his head. “No. You could never be a pumpkin.” Then he grinned. “Besides, it was the coach that turned into a pumpkin, not the chick.”

  He reached over and grabbed her foot, and she squeaked as he rested her leg on his lap. “Does it hurt?”

  “Uh, no—not really...” She winced when his fingers found the bruise on the top of her foot.

  “You are a lousy liar,” he said, and started to gently massage her foot.

  She had to close her mouth with a snap. Lucas Jordan was massaging her foot. She could close her eyes and drift away on this bliss forever.

  Until Charmaine came looking for her man.

  Bobbie tilted her head to the side. “Seriously, wouldn’t you rather be inside with your friends then out here holding my stinky foot?”

  Lucas held up a hand. “Hey, I’m trying to have a chick flick moment here, do you mind?”

  Her lips curved, but then she frowned. “Why are you hiding out here?”

  She knew why she was happy to hide out here, but why the star basketball player? Wouldn’t he prefer to be inside with his hot girlfriend and teammates?

  “Who says I’m hiding?”

  “When Mr. Popularity prefers to hold my stinky foot, he’s got to be hiding from something. What?”

  Lucas stopped with the massage and looked at her. “Wow, you don’t mess around, do you? No chit-chat, just straight out with it.”

  Bobbie shrugged. “Why waste time with being fake? I’d prefer to be straight and honest. Saves a lot of time in getting to know the real person.”

  “That’s funny, coming from someone who won’t even tell me her real name.”

  She tried to pull her leg back, but his grip tightened on her ankle. He tilted his head. “Is that too honest for you?”

  Chapter 3

  She pursed her lips together for a moment. She didn’t want to concede he had a point. “I have known you since elementary, we currently share three subjects at school, and this is the first real conversation we’ve had in I don’t know how long. How’s that for being honest?”

  Lucas shook his head slowly. “God, I wish I could take that mask off. I’m dying to find out who you are.”

  She grimaced. “Yeah, well, don’t set your expectations too high. You’re bound to be disappointed.” The last time he’d taken any notice of Bobbie Turner was like ... never.

  “Let’s play a game,” Lucas suggested.

  Bobbie arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t want to go inside to be with your friends? What about your girlfriend?”

  He sighed. “She’s not my girlfriend, we’re just ... dating.”

  Bobbie rolled her eyes. Dating, schmating. “Whatever. Fine. What’s this game?”

  “Twenty questions, so I can figure out who you are.”

  “So I just have to answer yes or no?”

  “Yep. And you can’t lie.”

  Bobbie considered it for a moment. Did she want Lucas to guess who she was? Part of her was relishing this time with him, where he treated her like an honest-to-god girl and not some shadow at the back of the classroom. Another part of her was terrified—what if he did figure out who she was, and was disappointed, horrified, angry ... insert any world-ending adjective of choice here.

  The part that was enjoying being a girl with a cute guy won out. “Okay.”

  “You say you’ve known me since elementary school. Were we friends?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you come over to my place?”

  She wasn’t worried about that one—Lucas had had his birthday parties at home. Lots of kids, boys and girls, attended. “Yes.”

  “Do you have any brothers and or sisters?”

  The question caught her off-guard, and she sucked in a breath. Such a simple question, with such a complicated, painful answer. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she blinked them back. “Uh, that’s a hard one.”

  Lucas chuckled. “How is that hard? It’s a simple yes or no question. Do you have brothers or sisters?”

  She struggled to breathe, and Lucas frowned. “Hey, are you okay?”

  Oh, God, she was going to lose it. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, trying to hold in the gasps as she tried to suck some oxygen back in her lungs. Lucas fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a square of cloth, pale in the darkness. “Here,” he said, giving it to her.

  She took it and blew her nose. Oh, God. What an idiot. He probably thought she was some massive loser right now. And he carries a handkerchief. And she didn’t have a brother anymore.

  So many thoughts, zinging off with different emotions, bombarded her, confusing her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Lucas shook his head as he slid his arm along her shoulders. His touch was warm, supportive, and didn’t feel like a ‘move’, but a genuine offer of comfort. “Don’t be. I’m sorry. I’ve obviously touched a sore spot.”

  She smiled shakily as she dabbed at her eyes, a challenging maneuver when you were wearing a mask and not wanting to reveal the rest of your face. God, that would just be super humiliating, if he figured out who she was now.

  “What happened?” Lucas asked softly.

  Bobbie took a deep breath. She didn’t really talk about it, but here, in the almost-dark, hiding behind masks, it felt tempting. Easy.

  “My brother died four months ago in Afghanistan.”

  Lucas swore softly. “God, I’m so sorry.”

  She laughed without amusement. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t kill him.”

  “No, but my uncle died over there, too. I know it ... it hurts. I know it’s such a shock, especially when you don’t really understand death. You know, it’s this thing that happens to other people, and then suddenly, there’s a hole in your life where somebody used to be.”

  She looked up at him, nodding, surprised. “That’s exactly what it’s like.”

  He smiled sadly. “He used to come over a lot, and we’d shoot hoops. Dad, too, but my time with my uncle was always special, because it was when he was on leave, or between tours. Now, shooting hoops makes me think of him.”

  “Is that why you don’t want to hang with your friends? The basketball connection?”

  Lucas shot her a surprised look. “Yeah, I guess.” He tilted his head. “Is your brother’s death why you don’t want to waste time with bullshit?”

  “Pretty much. He was only twenty-one, and I’m sure there were things he’d want to do and say that he never got a chance to.”

  Lucas leaned back against the brick wall. “What is one thing you remember about him that makes you smile?”

  She twisted to him. “I’ll tell you about my brother if you tell me about your uncle.”

  “Deal.”

  Chapter 4

  They sat there, talking quietly, the light filtering through the windows above their head from the gymnasium-turned-ballroom. The music was loud enough to cover their conversation,
but muted enough that they could hear each other as they huddled together on the seat, sharing memories in the darkness.

  At one point, Bobbie’s breathless laughter tinkled through the night air. “Oh, my god. I can’t believe your uncle took you to a bar.”

  Lucas chuckled. “Yeah. He caught hell from my dad and mom, but we had so much fun.” It took a moment, but eventually Lucas’s smile fell, and he turned to face her fully. “I never told anyone else that story,” he admitted.

  “Well, I’m honored you shared it with me tonight,” Bobbie responded simply.

  Lucas shook his head, his gaze on hers. “I’ve shared so much with you tonight. You’re really easy to talk to, you know that?”

  Bobbie’s smile faltered. That sounded like he was bundling her into the friend zone. Damn. She forced her smile back onto her face. Go out with dignity, Bobbie Turner. “Well, that’s what friends are for.” She cleared her throat. “Uh, we should probably go back inside, I’m sure your girlfriend will be looking for you.”

  Lucas rolled his eyes. “For the last time, she’s not my girlfriend. We’re just—”

  “Dating, I know.” Bobbie shook her head.

  “What?”

  “I never thought you were a player, Lucas.” Wait—she was in the friend zone, so he wasn’t actually ‘playing’ with her, right?

  He frowned and leaned back, as though she’d hit him in the face. “I’m not.”

  “Really? Tell me then, what is the difference between dating a girl, and a girl being your girlfriend?”

  Lucas sat there for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, fair question.” He shifted a little closer to her, his eyes dark and direct on hers. “Dating is when you go out with a girl to have some fun,” he said softly. “Nothing serious, just some good company.” His hand stroked the back of her neck, just beneath her hairline. Bobbie’s breath hitched as he leaned closer. “A girlfriend is when you want it all—the fun, the fights, the tears, the laughs, and you can’t stop thinking about her, whether she’s there with you, or not, and when she’s not, you count down until she is, because there is no other way you’d rather spend your time than with her.”

 

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