Page 25 of Cinderella Screwed Me Over
At the end of lunch, Devin ran a hand over my head, mussing my hair. “Later, you girl.”
After that, Devin, Drew, and their five friends sat by me in the lunchroom; Ross and his gang never picked on me again. There was still a group of snotty girls that made life hell, but I couldn’t exactly ask my brothers to beat them up for me.
Most days after school, I hung out with the guys. They were far from dwarfs—in fact most of them towered over me—but they were my group. My seven giants. Thinking of going home and being able to ride my horse or hang with the guys, I knew I could make it through the day of school.
Nothing much changed over the next few years. I was never what you’d call popular, and when I went out, it was with my seven giants.
The first day of my junior year, I was feeling pretty good about life. I’d finally stopped growing, filled out a little bit, and Mom had taken me to a store in Denver and bought pants that fit me perfectly. The poofy, big-bang hairdos weren’t in anymore, so my straight, blond hair wasn’t as out of place.
Tabitha Newton walked up to me as I was loading school supplies into my locker. Since she’d made no secret of her hatred for me, I was surprised when she didn’t immediately insult me.
“Hi, Darby,” she said.
I stared for a few seconds before responding. “Hi.”
Tabitha ran a hand through her hair. She’d gotten “The Rachel” cut over the summer and had chunky blond highlights running through it. “You should try out for cheerleading.”
Because the cheerleaders made no secret of the fact that they didn’t like me, trying out had never crossed my mind. But it did have a certain allure. “Sure. Maybe.”
“Let’s see how you’d do on a pyramid.” Tabitha shoved me.
Someone had set up behind me on her hands and knees—I believe they call it a tabletop—and I toppled backward over her body.
Tabitha’s face floated above me. “Looks like you failed.” She and her friend giggled and walked off.
That’s what you get for trusting the biggest witch in school, I thought as I lay there, not wanting to deal with life.
A hand extended toward me. It was no True Love’s Kiss, but it got me on my feet again. He had shaggy, brown hair, and tan, I-spend-lots-of-time-outdoors skin.
“Thanks.” I didn’t recognize him, and I would remember a face like that. “Are you new?”
“Just moved in. I’m Sherman.” He shook his head. “Don’t ask about the name. It was my granddad’s and now I’m lucky enough to have it.”
“My name’s Darby, so I completely understand.”
“Actually, I think Darby’s a cute name.” He tapped my nose. “It fits.”
This was the kind of guy I’d been dreaming about.
Two days later, when Sherman and I were sitting outside after lunch, he kissed me. I’d been anticipating my first kiss for a long time, and it didn’t disappoint. After that, the kissing increased at steady intervals. So did his roving hands. He wanted to take things fast; I wanted to take it slow. I didn’t want to lose him, so I kept asking him to be patient.
Around our three-month anniversary, Sherman and I had plans to go to a party out by Burch Lake. Unfortunately, the school had called to talk to Mom earlier that day. The secretary had asked why I was always late for class. (Sherman and I often snuck outside for a few uninterrupted minutes of kissing, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.)
I sat, sulking in the kitchen, thinking about how unfair life was when Drew, Devin, and the rest of the guys came in.
“You need a ride to the party?” Devin asked.
I stared at the back of Mom’s head. “My mom thinks I’ve been spending too much time with Sherman.”
“We can take her with us, Janet,” Drew said. “We’ll make sure she and Sherman stay in sight at all times. In fact, I’ve been meaning to talk to that kid anyway.”
Mom sighed. “Fine. Don’t you let her get into trouble, or there’ll be heck to pay.”
Mom didn’t believe in swearing, and even using “heck” was pretty colorful for her.
“Understood,” Devin said.
My entourage and I squished into Devin’s quad-cab Dodge and headed to the party. The second we got there, I scanned the place for Sherman. Every night away from him was like torture.
