A Not-So Cinderella Story

When I felt like I was being swept off my feet in a Cinderella story, someone had to be there to drop me, right?
Let's backtrack a little.
Cher Topman. A simple name for a complex girl like me. I'm an orphan at a little orphanage in London, but don't be fooled. Just because it's in London doesn't mean that it's extravagant.
When a rich American single woman makes the fatal decision to adopt me and take me back to America, my life is turned upside down by some people I never thought I'd meet.

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5. Day 2.

I wake up expecting to see the normal crappy orphanage. 

But no.

It's real.

This is real.

I sit up on my bed and rub my eyes. Then I remember how much I have to do today. 

I spring out of bed and into the kitchen to find Haylee making blueberry muffins.

"You bake?" I ask.

"Oh I bake," she laughs and hands me a warm muffin. I devour it in a minute and go for a second. Haylee laughs.

"They didn't feed you much there did you?" she asks,

"They fed us as much as the government allows, but nothing more," I tell her.

"You know, we should really do something for those kids," Haylee says.

"I was thinking the same thing. But if we do, I want to make it really special, so I need to think about it a bit more," I nod.

"Oh yeah, there is a post office down the road, so whenever you need to send letters, you can run it over there. It's very convenient," she says sitting down.

"I might just do that after organizing the closet," I say.

"Oh yeah! We should get started. Bring your muffin and let's go start," she yawns. We walk into my closet to see bags. And bags. And bags. And bags. I didn't realize how much stuff we got. 

"First, we need to take everything out of their bags and organize them into what they are. Dresses, tops, and you get the rest," she says after turning on some music. We unbag everything and sort them by what they are. Then we sort those piles into colors. Then we started hanging everything up and stocking the drawers with scarves and put the shoes into the shoe case. And that's just the bottom floor. We walk upstairs and I see someone I wasn't expecting to see.

"Christopher? What are you doing here?" I asked confused. 

"I'm almost done with your gown so I moved it here to work on. Don't look at it!" he says while standing in front of a mannequin. 

"Alright! We'll go work on makeup!" Haylee laughs and we walk over to the makeup vanity. The floor in front of it is covered in more Sephora bags. Haylee turns up the music and we start unbagging and doing the whole cycle again. Hours later, the whole closet is done and I know where everything is. I flop down on the while runway couch and so does Haylee. We're both silent for a second and all I can hear is the music.

"Haylee, what is this song?" I ask her.

"As long as you love me by Justin Bieber," she laughs.

"This is Justin Bieber?" I ask her and she nods.

"I like it," I smile.

"I'm done darlings! Christopher says and puts a sheet over his design and joins us on the couch. 

"How about we take a break for a bit before we do a fitting and resume Princess training?" Christopher suggests.

"I think I'm going to write a letter to the kids and send it before we finish, is that alright?" I ask them.

"Go for it," Haylee says and Christopher. I walk out of the closet and sit down at my desk, grabbing my notebook. I write a long letter to the kids and then grab my old poloroid camera. I take pictures of almost everything in the house and put them into an envelope. I take a quick shower and dry my hair in 10 minutes. I know, I'm way fast at getting ready because I would always spend all my time getting the other kids ready. I pick out the perfect outfit. Mint jeans and a grey and white polka dot sweater from JCrew. I lace up my brown leather combat boots and do my makeup in pastels. I must say, these new clothes and makeup make me look so much prettier. I grab my new brown leather satchel and put the envelope of pictures and the letter inside of it. At the last second I grab my poem notebook, thinking I could slip a poem in there for Sarah. I say goodbye to Haylee and Chris and start walking to the post office, clutching my notebook to my stomach. 

It all happened really fast. I see a guy running towards me fast, looking over his shoulder, obviously trying to get away from someone. He collides with me and my notebook and his go flying. I grab his notebook and he grabs mine. The crowd around us just leaves a space for us and walks around him.

"You know you should really watch where you're go-" he starts but stops when he sees my face.

"Ah, I get it. Angry New Yorker. You've got that down," I laugh and hand him his notebook. He hands me mine.

"I like your accent. It's sexy," he smirks.

"Thank you?" I raise an eyebrow.

"What do you say, hottie? Want to go out sometime?" he asks me confidently.

"You don't even know my name," I laugh.

"Can I get one?" he raises an eyebrow.

"No, not yet. You have to earn a name," I smile and walk towards the post office.

Dang, he was cute.

Whatever. 

I open the door of the post office and grab a large envelope and start assembling my letter. I throw in the pictures and the letter, but as I'm going to get a poem, I realize something.

This isn't my notebook.

Well crap. He took my notebook. I took his. I'm compelled to open it, but I want to respect his privacy. Maybe I'll run into him again sometime. Guess the poem for Sarah isn't happening. I seal up the letter and pay for the overnight shipping with some money that Haylee gave to me. Soon, it's all done and I walk back home.

"Alright. Now it's time for Princess training session two. Boys," Haylee smiles eagerly as we sit down on my bed.

"Rule one. Never forget this rule alright?" Chris says and I nod.

"A girl worth kissing is not easily kissed," Chris smiles. I take that in and make a mental note to write these things down later.

"Rule two. Never let a guy call you sexy or hot unless he is a designer and admiring how the clothes look on you. It's degrading," Haylee tells me. It makes me think about how the boy with my book who called me both.

"Rule three. Swag is for boys, class is for men. You want a man," Chris says and I laugh.

"Rule four. Never answer to a whistle from a guy. You are a lady, not a dog," Haylee says.

"Rule five. If you present yourself like a lady, the best guys will treat you like one," Chris says.

"And those are the basic rules. Never forget them. Ever," Haylee says.

"It doesn't seem to hard," I reason. 

"But it gets harder. Do you know how to dance?" Haylee asks and I shake my head. She plugs her iphone into the wall and turns on a slow song. 

"Let's show her Chris," she says. Then I go through dance class. They first teach me the slow dance and then how to dance at parties. I learned I'm not much of a dancer. Then, they made me put on one of my long dresses and do each of the dances. Then they made me put on heels and do the dances. Let's just say, that was not the most enjoyable 2 hours of my life.

But it wasn't over. They made me practice my silly smile, my posing smile, my laughing smile, and every other smile you can think of until I can't smile anymore due to cheek failure. Then they turn me loose to study on the internet. I take a bunch of practice tests until I'm positive I'll ace this final. Then Haylee takes me on a second tour of the house and teaches me how to use the stereos and things like that. My favorite part was the treehouse tour when we actually went in it. 

There's a door in the back or the trunk and when you open it, you're greeted by the most beautiful spiral staircase. Once you walk in, you see what Haylee calls a modern day treehouse. It has plush floor that's kind of bouncy, like a trampoline. There are a bunch of beanbags and a flatscreen TV along with another candy bar stocked every 3 days with candy from Dylan's Candy Bar.

After everything is done, Chris leaves and Haylee and I have a girls night. She orders pizza and we watch movies and talk.

"Hey, Cher, have you ever tried setting some of your poems to music?" Haylee asks.

"I've never really thought about it," I shrug.

"Come on," she says, pushing me into the recording studio. She puts me in the room and mic's me up. She tells me that she has one of my poems that Sarah sent her on the music stand. She goes out of the room and controls the sound panel. Soon, some awesome music comes through the headphones and I sing along to the beat. At the end of the song, she comes up to me with a dropped jaw. 

"You swear you've never listened to music before?" she asks and I nod.

"That was good. It was really good," she says.

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