Page 38 of Becoming Cinderella

I’m overcome with my disappointment when Liam reaches over and puts his hand on my knee. Through my jeans I can feel heat on my skin where his hand is.

“I promise you I’m already brainstorming something else for you, okay? Something award winning. I told you I’d help you with Jared, and I will. You’re an incredible girl and you deserve your happily ever after.”

His words create a warmth that starts in my stomach and spreads through my veins.

“Let’s get your mind off of our situation,” he wiggles to sit up straighter against the wall. “How about we play a game? A fact for a fact. I think you need the distraction.”

Anything to keep me from thinking about how my parents are going to react when they find out I’m locked in here with Liam. Will they show up here alone or will they contact the police first? Hopefully they will check the store before calling the police with a missing person’s report. Doesn’t someone have to be missing 24 hours before a missing person’s report is even filed? I will be out of here by then at least.

“A fact? Okay, let’s see.” I stare at the wall next to Liam’s head as I think. “Okay, how about the fact I don’t understand why British people practically have an aneurysm when they find out Americans boil water in the microwave.”

Liam looks at me disgusted. “Lucky for you, I don’t have time to tell you how wrong it is.”

I gesture to the locked door. “Apparently you do.”

“Trust me, I don’t. I do however have time to mention something Americans do that I don’t understand.”

I cross my legs at my ankles and put my hands behind my head. “I better get comfortable for this.”

“One thing that keeps me up at night is the fact American’s call their petrol, gasoline. It’s not a gas though, it’s a liquid.”

“I can’t really explain that one.”

We sit in silence for a moment. He stares at me and I stare right back because I don’t know what else to do right now. I’m trying to think of an actual fact to tell him when he breaks our comfortable silence.

“I had been thinking more like a fact about yourself. I don’t know much about your family, why don’t you start there?”

“I’m not sure what you want to know? I’m the middle child of three girls. My oldest sister, Harper, is away at college, and you’ve met Rylee when we made cookies. We definitely fight and throw hairbrushes at each other and what not, but they’re two of my best friends. For the most part I get along with my parents too, which I think can be rare for a teenager to say. Don’t get me wrong, we have our fights too, but most of the time we get along.”

At least we used to, before they decided to control my life and who I can spend my time with.

“I wish I knew what that was like. I don’t have siblings to try to tag along with or fight, but I wish I did. My parents and I aren’t even close. Most the time I’m not sure why they even had me. It got worse when I got famous, but for different reasons. It’s hard when you feel like you’re more of a business partner with your parents than a son.”

I had no idea he had such a strained relationship with his parents. It must be so lonely for him. I want to reach over and give him a hug. I want to let him know he’s not alone, now that he has me. That he’ll always have me.

He must see the sympathy on my face because he gives me a small smile. “It’s not all bad. I’ve got my best mate Finn. We’ve been friends since primary school and even though he still lives back in England, he’s there for me more than anyone else. He keeps me grounded and as far as I’m concerned, he’s my family.”

“What do you miss most about England? Well, besides Finn?” I feel a little better he at least has his best friend to lean on.

Liam’s lips squish to one side as he thinks. “Nando’s and Banoffee pie.”

“Bana what?” I remember him mentioning it before as part of his last meal on death row.

Liam chuckles. “Banoffee pie. There was this bakery around the corner from Finn’s house called Arabella’s Bakery and they served the most delicious Banoffee pie. Finn and I used to go every Sunday afternoon to get some. We tried other bakeries, but no one could compare to Arabella’s.”

“What is that exactly?”

“It’s this pie with a crumbly biscuit as the crust, bananas, whipped cream, toffee- “

“Oh, so Banana Cream pie?” I cut him off.

Liam looks offended. “No, not like Banana Cream pie. It’s banana slices and ugh,” he leans his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. “Just thinking about it makes me homesick. I’ve tried to make it myself, and it’s never as good.” He looks back at me. “Eventually I started going to Arabella’s outside my Sunday trips with Finn. The pie became something I’d get when I needed a pick-me up. If I did bad on an exam or was stressed about some audition, I’d turn to the Banoffee pie. It didn’t take long for the staff to know my name and order.”

“It sounds delicious.”

“It is. Except last time I was in England I couldn’t go in and get some. I went to the bakery but there were too many people around, it would have caused a mob scene.”

“A mob scene? That sounds familiar.” I tuck my legs to my chest, giving him a teasing smile. “Do you ever wish you weren’t a celebrity?”

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