Not So Cinderella

by Rebekah L. Thompson

  Athena,

  Been thinkin’ bout you.

  You became so beautiful.

  V.

  “Is this some kind of joke?” I ask, standing from my chair. This is sick. Whoever did this has to be playing a trick, a game, or… or something. Ray’s eyebrows pull together, and his lips purse in confusion as he stands too. I hand him the note, and he reads it, an angry look crossing his face when he looks up.

  “Fan?” I shrug.

  “More like a stalker,” I mutter, running my hand through my hair.

  “What’re you gonna do?” He asks, giving the note back.

  I bite my lip and lean up against the locker. “Wait to see if it happens again. If it does, then we can try to catch this guy,” I answer. It’s not my best plan, but I’m sure I can handle a simple stalker. Ray gives me an unsure look, but I ignore it. I don’t want police here, and I don’t want to go to them unless I have to. I try to think of someone else who can help, like my parents’ old friends, but the only person who comes to mind is someone I haven’t seen in years.

  “Thanks for the concern, but I can handle myself,” I tell Ray, chunking the flower in the trash bin, shoving the note in my pocket, and walking to the door, but I pause and look back at him. “Don’t tell anyone, understand?” I ask, and he nods. I know he wants to tell someone, probably Mason or Drake, but I can’t let Ray be the one to inform them. They’d both freak the freak out.

  As I leave, I yell out that I’ll see him later since I fight tonight. Sighing, I get on my bike and pull my phone out of my pocket. I send a quick text to Drake, telling him that I’m not returning to school, and I pull my helmet on. Once I’m situated, I pull out and head to the flower shop. I don’t remember if we sell black roses, but I can ask Mrs. G. She’d probably know where they come from.

  Minutes later, I’m pulling into the flower shop parking. I don’t see Mrs. G through the window, so I head inside. My eyes scan the room taking in the dumped-over flower pots and trampled plants. The place is a mess. Immediately, I’m on alert and make my way to the back room.

  “He wants more money!” I hear a male voice yell. Quietly, I move along the wall and peek around the doorframe. I narrow my eyes at the man from the other day, the one I paid to stay away. The one I told never to return. This guy must be dense.

  Stepping into the room, I cross my arms over my chest. “I thought said never come back here.” He turns to look at me and scoffs. I may not look like much, but he’ll feel the regret before he leaves. “I told you I’d hurt you if you came back. Ready?”

  “What’s a wee little girl like you gonna do to me?”

  Now, I smirk and move closer. “You shouldn’t have come back,” I warn him. I notice his arm tighten and his leg move before he lunges. I duck and dodge the punch, kicking the side of his knee in the process. My kick sends him to the ground, and I immediately send several consecutive punches to his face, then chest.

  The man’s feet hit my stomach, sending me stumbling back and gasping for air. He lunges again, punching my left cheek. My head snaps to the side, yet I dodge his next attack and grab his wrist. I spin him around and kick the back of his leg, which causes him to crumple to his knees. I pull his arm up behind him, gripping his wrist.

  He cries out in pain as I twist, putting pressure on his shoulder. “Stop!” He yells, and I twist more. I told him, and he ignored me. This is what he deserves.

  “I told you never to come back! I could end you right now!” He cries out in pain again.

  “I’ll leave!” Again, he tries to wiggle out of the hold. The movement pains him even more. I smirk and pull his arm back, making him yell out.

  “The only reason I’m not killing you is that Mrs. G is here. If I EVER see you here again, you will regret it,” I growl and yank, snapping his wrist. He howls, and when I let go of him, he cradles his broken wrist to his chest, scrambles to his feet, and runs out of the room. Maybe he’ll get the message this time.

  As soon as he’s gone, I turn to Mrs. G and see the terrified look on her face. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you,” I murmur, and she nods. I push some hair out of her face and immediately see the bluish-purple bruise forming on her cheek. “I should’ve killed him,” I growl under my breath.

  Who hurts old ladies? I mean, what kind of monster is he?

  “I’ll get you some ice,” I tell her and walk over to the small refrigerator she keeps on the far side of the room. Anger flies through me, reminding me of the ways she could have gotten worse injuries, so much so that I have to force myself to calm down by taking deep breaths. I don’t want to frighten Mrs. G more than I already have.

  Sighing, I grab a plastic bag and drop ice cubes in it, grab a rag, and wrap it around the bag. I pass the bag to Mrs. G, and she tenderly places it on her injured cheek. When she winces, I mentally curse myself. I should’ve gotten here sooner. I was supposed to keep her safe from this guy.

  For the next minute, I study her for more injuries. Her white and purple dress has dirt smudged on it, and her hat hangs from the string around her neck. Her thin braids are messed up, her hair sticking out everywhere, either because he pulled her hat or it fell.

  “Mrs. G, what did he want?” I question, sitting on the floor in front of her chair.

  She regards me with a soft smile. “More money. That man said that I owed him interest, but I told him he’d said nothing about interest last time. I also said we had paid him the exact amount owed,” she says softly, wincing a little as she talks.

  I incline my head and run my hand through my hair. “I don’t want you staying here right now,” I tell her. She lives in the apartment above the shop. Now I don’t feel comfortable with her living here by herself. “Let me call Drake, and we’ll figure something out,” I suggest, standing from my sitting position. She wants to protest, but I shake my head firmly. It’s no use. I don’t want her here.

  Sighing, I pull my phone out and walk over to the refrigerator again. This time, I grab myself an ice pack since my cheek smarts from that punch. It was a lucky punch too. I place the ice pack on my cheek and hold my phone up to my other ear.

  “Athena, is everything okay?” Drake immediately answers, making me smile. I love that he’s so worried.

  “Uh, yeah. I need to show you something at the shop. We need to talk about Mrs. G,” I tell him and hear shuffling on the other end of the phone.

  “On my way.”

  Not even five minutes later, Drake rushes into the room, his sharp eyes observing the room. When his gaze finds us, he runs over, drops to his knees, and cups my cheeks in his palms. “You okay? What happened?” He asks, his eyes flashing with anger, worry, and confusion.

  “I stopped by and found the man from last week demanding more money. He had hit Mrs. G and trashed the place, so I got rid of him. And I’m fine,” I explain, and he looks over to Mrs. G. His expression softens when he notices the large bruise on her cheek. Slowly, he moves to her side and kneels, inspecting the bruise.

  “It’ll fade in a few days, and you’ll be right back to your pretty self,” he coos. Mrs. G smiles at him and pats his head like older women do with little boys. Again, he’s adorable. The softness with which he treats her and the care he shows warms my heart.

  “Drake, she can’t stay here,” I announce, making him glance back at me. “They know she lives here,” I say, and he frowns, then runs a hand through his.

  “She can stay with us,” he says after a minute of thinking.

  “You have an extra room? What about the guys?” I ask, feeling a little bad for dumping this on them. They didn’t sign up for taking in an old lady. I should probably find another solution, or I could go to the cops.

  Drake shakes his head and crosses his arms. “It’s fine. There’s a master bedroom downstairs that none of us use. She can stay there,” he says. Then he turns to Mrs. G. “If you want.”

  Mrs. G stands on shaky legs and walks over to us, putting one hand on each of our cheeks. “Thank you,” she
coos softly, making me smile. She’s the sweetest, and this is only one way to repay her for the many things she did for me. I can offer her safety.

  Drake smiles back down at her, takes her hand, and kisses the back of it. “I’ll call the guys and tell them to prepare the room while you help grab her stuff. I’m just glad I brought my car today,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

  He kisses me before leaving the room. I stare after him for a second before turning to Mrs. G, who’s smiling. And her grin grows wider when I study her with a confused look. “What?” I finally ask, offering her my arm. She gratefully takes it.

  “I remember when my late husband looked at me the way your Drake looks at you, with such love and admiration in his eyes that anyone within one hundred miles could see it,” she sighs, a wistful smile on her lips. “He loves you. I can see it in his eyes and body language,” she continues, making me smile this time. We make our way up the stairs to her apartment door.

  “Well, I love him too, Mrs. G,” I admit, heat blooming in my cheeks as she opens the door. She nods and pulls her hat off, setting it on a table by the door. Next, she pats her mussed hair and smiles before walking into the very homey apartment.

  “Honey, I’ve told you before that you can call me Nonna.”

  “What’s that?” I ask as I follow her to her room. She’s said it before, but I never took her up on it. I don’t know what it means and felt too odd to ask. Not anymore, though.

  She smiles and picks up a suitcase. “It means grandmother in Italian. My father was Italian, and so was his mother, my Nonna.” As she says this, I realize how much she’s part of my family. How much like a grandmother to me, she truly is. She’s taken care of me, given me a way to make money, and she used to even send home meals with me.

  “Alright, Nonna.” After that, it takes roughly fifteen minutes for us to pack her bag, with last-minute help from Drake. He grabs anything too heavy for us to carry. Once we’re done, Drake takes her bag, and we follow him out of the apartment.

  ~*~

  When we reach Drake’s house, all the guys are waiting, lined up like the Lost Boys from Peter Pan. They all introduce themselves, receiving cheek pinches and cheek kisses from Nonna. She mentions that she’ll love having several handsome young men surrounding her until we show her to her temporary bedroom. She won’t be here forever, just until we can figure out how to keep the men away.

  Now, Drake and I are in his room, lying on his bed. I’d been thinking about the note I received and of Ray’s words of warning. He told me not to keep my situation to myself, and I can trust Drake. If anything, he might be able to help me figure the whole thing out. Taking a deep breath, I sit up and turn to look at Drake. “I need to tell you something,” I announce. This isn’t a mistake. I don’t want any secrets between us that could hurt us. Hurt me.

  “Okay, I’m listening,” he says, concern and interest sparking in his eyes. He sits up, gently takes my hands in his, and rubs his thumbs in soothing circles over the back of my hands. It helps comfort me.

  Looking down at our entwined hands, I swallow my fear. “Someone left a note and a black rose taped to my locker at Underground. That’s why Ray called,” I tell him. Pulling one of my hands out of his, I dig into my pocket and grab the note.

  Drake gives me a pointed look as I turn his hand over and place the note in his palm. He slowly opens it and reads the scrawl. Drake’s eyebrows knit together in anger as he looks up at me. “Do you know who this V is?” He asks, and I shake my head, looking down.

  “No clue,” I mutter, then add, “Maybe it’s just a fan?” Drake sighs, his eyes dropping back to the paper. I flop onto my back, throwing my arm over my face with a groan.

  “I don’t think so,” Drake answers, touching my knee.

  “What am I going to do? Do I wait for him, or her, to leave me more creepy messages?” I question as he starts slowly rubbing small, comforting circles on my thigh. The skin-on-skin contact sends shivers through me, but not bad shivers. It distracts me for a moment.

  “Well, I know for a fact you can protect yourself, but just know that I’m here for you, and so are the guys,” he says, making me look up. I bite my lip, sit up, and crawl over to him.

  “Thanks,” I mumble and place a small kiss on his lips. He gathers me into his arms and pulls me into his lap.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He leans down, and we’re merely a breath apart when someone bangs on his room door. Both of our heads snap up at the sound, and Drake growls. Really? Did they have to interrupt right now? I was about to get a kiss! And I love Drake's kisses. He always has a hint of minty taste, as if he’d just brushed his teeth. Also, his lips are soft. So, so soft.

  “What?!” Drake calls out.

  The door opens slowly, revealing Ross. “Um… your old lady friend made dinner, and she wants you to come down and eat. She set the table and everything,” he stumbles over the words, a thumb jerked over his shoulder toward the stairs. I smile at his cuteness and stand.

  “We’re coming.” Ross leaves when I turn to Drake, who has a scowl on his face. I think he wanted more kisses too. I bite back a giggle.

  “But I wanted to stay here with you,” he pouts, sticking his bottom lip out a bit. I smile at how adorable he looks and move closer to him. One thing I never thought I’d call him when I met him was adorable.

  “We can come back after dinner,” I whisper, straddling his lap. His eyes find mine, and I lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips.

  Drake’s hands travel to my lower back and settle around my waist, pulling me closer as he deepens the kiss. I curl my fingers into his hair and tug him impossibly closer, which earns me a groan. “You shouldn’t tease me, Flower,” he mumbles against my lips.

  I smirk and climb off his lap. “Then you should get up, bad boy,” I reply, running out the door. Drake growls from behind me and chases after me. His footsteps follow me like thunder follows rain, making my stomach somersault like acrobats at the circus.

  Turning the corner, I run down the stairs, practically sliding into the kitchen just in time for Drake to wrap his arms around my waist again and lift me off the ground. The movement rips a surprised squeal from me, followed by a wheezing gasp when Drake tightens his grip and tickles me.

  Oh gosh! How did he know? I can’t help the laugh that echoes through the house as I wiggle in Drake’s arms.

  “Apologize,” he says, his lips dangerously close to my ear. I shake my head, not having enough strength to stop laughing in order to speak. Drake carries me out of the kitchen and over to the couch. He then releases me midair, but a second later, my back hits the cushions, and Drake is standing over me.

  The tickling starts again, and I squeal with laughter. I push at his hands, but he doesn’t stop. “Tell me I’m the best fighter and hottest guy ever!” He commands. I shake my head again, tears forming in my eyes.

  “No!” I gasp, yet he tickles me even more.

  My breathing soon becomes labored, and I struggle to hold in the tears. Maybe I can play this off, mess with him… if I can stop laughing, that is. This seems to be a pattern- me using my acting skills to trick Drake.

  Composing my laughter, I make my breathing sound like wheezing, and I let my tears fall. I start frantically pushing at Drake’s wiggling hands and give him a fearful look. “P-please st-top,” I cry, turning my tone more frantic and scared as the warm tears fall down my face. Drake freezes and pulls me up, staring at me with a concerned expression.

  “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, curling me closer. I shake my head and smirk as I wipe the tears away.

  “I got you!”

  He gives me a skeptical look and scowls. “That’s not fair,” he frowns, “I thought something was seriously wrong!” Athena two points. Drake zero. He grumbles something under his breath and turns away from me with a huff.

  “Aww, I’m sorry, babe,” I coo, moving in front of him and hugging him. He wraps his arms around me, holding me to him.
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  “I’m so getting you back for that,” he promises lightly, pulls away, and walks into the kitchen. Rolling my eyes, I follow him back and sit at the already full table. Nonna went all out. I bet the boys didn’t even know they had the placemats under the glass plates. Actually, I bet they didn’t realize they had glass plates.

  Mrs. G set out several dishes full of food across the table, and each of the guys is staring with glazed-over eyes and joyful expressions. I think they’ll enjoy having Nonna around if she cooks like this often. From what I’ve seen, the guys can cook simple meals, but nothing as fulfilling as this. It’s like she cooked an entire Thanksgiving feast.

  “I’m in love,” Ross sighs after Nonna instructs everyone to eat. With a giggle, I watch the boys dig in, like only boys can do, and devour the delicious meal. A wave of happiness hits me. We’re all here, even Mason, who snuck away to spend time with us, and we’re like a little family.

  My little family.

  Chapter 23

  Athena

  So, it’s been a couple of weeks since the rose and note incident, and nothing unusual has happened. I only have a little over a month until my birthday, and I’ve been fighting regularly. We’ve also gone to a few more of Mason’s soccer games. I’m practically living with Drake now, except for all my stuff still at Alisha’s house. Nonna is still here, and unsurprisingly, all the guys love her.

  It’s sweet to see them interact with her. They help her clean, make dinner, and even drive her to work. It’s adorable. It’s like a nice live-in grandmother for us at the house.

  “So, what are you going as?” Ross asks as we walk down the hallway. I peer up at him confusedly, resulting in his chuckles. “To the Halloween party?” He clarifies in a duh tone.

  “I haven’t thought about it.” And I hadn’t. Before they came, I never went to parties or hung out with people. So, by default, I hadn’t thought about it.

  He gawks at me like I’m crazy and grabs my arm, stopping me from walking. “What? It’s tomorrow night!” He exclaims, his overreaction making me smile and roll my eyes at the same time. The guys decided it’d be cool to go to a Halloween party at another student’s house, and yeah, it’s tomorrow. Despite what I do for money, I’m not a party girl. I’ve never really enjoyed going to parties, either.