I'm grateful phones are banned in class. If they weren't, I'm not sure how I'd survive today.
The posts have been relentless, appearing every hour. It seems people are enjoying exposing their classmates; they're submitting impossible wishes just to see their peers exposed. Poor Julia Hewitt has been the worst victim so far, although I'm pretty sure her secret should've qualified as enough payment for Simon Harris' wish to not be called 'Shorty' anymore. Apparently, Julia has slept with her sister's boyfriend not once but twice. Whilst that's pretty unforgivable and Brittany has a right to know, surely the new so-called Rumpel could've come up with a better nickname for Simon?
Then again, this imposter-slash-potential murderer can't even think of their own fairy tale character to mimic.
I bite my tongue, on the verge of cursing Rumpel and their stupid stalker habits, and focus on the task at hand. I need to make sure I include a seam allowance for the bodice pattern, otherwise my costume will end up far too small. Ari, Jordyn, and Mr Crocker have already cooed over the fabric, demanding to know where I'd got it. It brings a smile to my face recalling their enthusiasm and, dare I admit it, their touch of envy, knowing I have Nanna to thank for it.
She and I worked hard all afternoon and well into the evening on my costume's skirt and perfecting the pattern. I still have to do most of the work myself, but Mr Crocker has relented that, for this project, we can have minor help at home for the more difficult aspects of our work. It's a good thing, too, because I hadn't realised how hard putting eyelets in will be.
Ari nudges me and it's only by luck I don't slice into the fabric the wrong way.
"Hey, carefu—"
One look at her paled face, however, and I know she's only bumped me because it's an emergency. She drags her stool closer to mine, drawing a few curious eyes our way when the legs screech against the linoleum floor. Ari quickly sends them back to work with one quick glare and motions to her lap.
I shudder when I see the familiar green-and-gold background of the app she's in, new dread wiping out any sense of the happiness I'd just been feeling.
Subject: Family is everything.
Status: Wish granted, payment juicy.
Well, now, my pretty little sinners, haven't we been naughty lately? It seems my own wish to test your loyalty to each other has been granted, and my oh my, have the knives come out.
This wish does meet my criteria, but as I heard a certain someone pretending they thought I was blasé, I thought it cheeky they'd want a wish granted on the side. Whilst I may be generous enough to not request money, that doesn't mean you can use me.
But hey, consider your wish granted anyway.
From TuiTheTennisTitan:
Rumpel,
Loyalty is everything to me. FAMILY is everything. But the way my cousin treats me has me seeing red.
Wish: I wish Aroha would stop throwing parties.
Confession: Aroha Hira uses performance-enhancing drugs in competitions.
If you share that, I will hunt you down. They don't call me the Tennis Titan for nothing...
T. H.
My heart is in my stomach and my stomach is in my throat and everything is pounding and shaking and not where it should be. I think I'm going to be sick, but my legs are like jelly and won't take me to the nearest bathroom. Drawing in deep breaths of air certainly doesn't help.
YOU ARE READING
Call Me Rumpel
Teen Fiction"There's something I need to tell you," I say, my mouth instantly going dry. "About Call Me Rumpelstiltskin." Seventeen-year-old Mishka Winscott knows all there is to disguises. On the outside, she lives the perfect fairy tale life. No one knows abo...
