Not Your Cinderella

Chapter 1 : Not Your Cinderella

"You are sure about this right B?" Dad asks. His hair sits a brown messy mop upon his head, he straightens his glasses as if the adjustment of the spectacles will help him to analyse my reaction better. His deep brown eyes scream concern at me, and with the glasses magnifying his already large eyes I can't help but feel his gaze burning into my retinas.
"Honestly Dad, I promise I'm going to be fine," I pick up his briefcase which had been strewn to the side of him when he decides to pull me in to a hug that I'm certain has crushed at least one of my lungs. He gratefully accepts it before clutching it deeply at his chest.

Opening his mouth in an attempt to get another excuse out to stay I make sure to quickly halt him with some of my own.
"Don't forget these conventions are really important," I argue which seemed to just cause his eyebrows to knit together into a frown, "It's not the first time I have been left for them as well." I try to shoot him a reassuring smile but his brows seemed very firm in their position of discomfort.
"You did have Leo with you those times Berry."
I cringe at the childhood nickname he had compassed for me. Originating from the original "Rowan Berry" which he still liked to pull out now and then, to the more recent further shortening of the name to B.
"Yes," I nod whilst folding my arms signalling to him that I'm not finished, "But Leo was looking after me from this age. I'm 17 and honestly, we both know I'm a lot less useless than him. And," I continue, "He is coming back anyway."

Dad's face finally crumples into a smile as he releases a chuckle, "That's fair," he says, "You know I would take you?"
"I know dad, but," I say about to use the line he has been chanting at me for the past month, "I have school and an education to attend."
"Yes you do," he laughs, "call me if you need anything okay?"
I pull out my phone and shake it under his nose as evidence that I intend to. He smacks it playfully away, knowing full well that he's being over-protective.
"I promise I'll be home soon, and by soon-"
"I know dad, I know," I giggle, knowing I'm going to have to shoo him out of the door or else he will never leave. He sticks his pinkie out to me and although I know that it's childish, I interlink my own with his. He lets out a grin and pulls our hands down with enough force to pull them apart. He runs his fingers through his messy brown mop for hair before opening the door and at last leaving the property.
"You better stay in one piece," I should as he walks down the drive. He mockingly salutes me before turning back around and finishing his journey to the car. Opening the door, he slides his brief case onto the passenger seat before stopping momentarily as if he has forgotten something.
"Don't forget that Angie is also just a call away," He shouts back.
I wave my phone again in his direction, "I know."
"And-"
"Dad, please stop worrying, I'm going to be just fine."
"Okay, okay," He says putting his hands in air as if he's under arrest, "I just want you to be careful whilst I'm not here."
"Yes sir," I tease, mirroring his earlier salute.
I watch as Dad gets into the car before shutting the door behind himself. He straps himself in and places his hands on the wheel. The engine starts and slowly he reverses off the drive. As the car makes its way down the street, I see a hand from within waving at me. Returning the gesture, I continue to watch until the car is out of sight.

I slip back inside shutting the front door and locking it. Out of paranoia I check the handle three times to ensure that I had indeed successfully locked it. Heading into the kitchen I grab a glass from the cupboard and fill it with the carton of orange juice I had forgotten to return to the fridge earlier, which, had been sat on the side patiently waiting for me to remember it. Although not as satisfying as crisp cold juice straight from the fridge the sweet drink clenched my first and before long the glass was empty once more. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand I steal a glance of the clock finding the time to be 11:15. Feeling tiredness tugging at my eyelids I decide to call it a night.

Slowly, I pad upstairs, and make my way to my room. The light blue walls greet me as I enter and immediately my bed is calling me. Pushing away the voice telling me to just go to sleep right there and then fully dressed I make my way to the bathroom where I find the joggers and vest top I had left on the floor this morning. Changing into the items of clothing as quickly as possible I finish my night time look by pulling my dark locks into a messy bun. I squirt a copious amount of toothpaste onto my toothbrush and tip my 2-minute hourglass before beginning to brush my teeth. Dad had bought both Leo and I one when we were little as he was convinced that we were not brushing our teeth for a long enough time. Using the tiny hourglass had just become a habit of mine, I am certain Leo threw his away years ago. Noticing that the last of the sand has trickled down into the bottom segment I spit out the excess toothpaste in my mouth before having to wash my face to rid myself of the white smudge around my mouth which I have managed to achieve. Patting my face dry I sling my towel back onto the rail and leave the bathroom going back to my room.