Cinderella Who

Chapter Twenty-one

"Did I just get dissed?" I mumbled to myself, frowning and restraining myself from crying out cuss words—tears as the cherry on the top.

"Why did he become so mean?" I asked myself, answering a question that should be answered by Asher himself.

I crumpled a piece of paper, that was completely not wrinkled and new. I gritted my teeth as I did that, throwing the crumple of paper into the trash bin furiously.

All of a sudden, my breaths became fast-paced and short. My throat turned dry and I couldn't seem to gulp. I felt as if air were gone, I couldn't breathe. I felt as if I were choking on nothing, but it felt really uncomfortable. I didn't notice that tears came seeping out and strolled down my cheeks.

I broke down entirely, enduring a stinging pain right in my heart. Small crystal beads that had crept out of my eyes, one after another, soon turned into a flowing stream of sorrow that ran down my face and dripped from my chin into my shirt.

"I hate you, Asher!" I cried out in utter sorrow, falling on my knees.

Fortunately, I was acting all emotional in my dorm. There's a large possibility that I was disturbing my dorm neighbours with my sharp cries, but I couldn't sustain it.

Did I forget about someone?

Peter. I had used to like him, but I was enchanted by Asher's spell.

"Jerk."

***

I could hear a few knocks on the door, soft and cautious. But, I remained under the sheets of my woollen blanket, a forest green one to be exact. I fidgeted under the sheets, adjusting to a more comfortable position.

"Taylor?" The voice outside asked, knocking the door a few times. I was too lethargic to answer the door, so I remained as still as a statue and as quiet as an owl.

"It's Peter." The voice introduced himself, causing me to rise from the bed abruptly.

I looked at a mirror placed near me, examining my look. My hazel hair somehow wrapped itself into a bird's net and I had dark circles under my orbs. I patted my hair, trying to make it look quite decent. I got out of the bed and skittered towards the door. I turned the door knob and opened it slightly.

"What?" I mumbled out, still half-asleep.

Contrasted to me, he looked decent and dapper. His brown hair reflected the morning sunshine, his ocean orbs glimmered like stars, and he wore a chic outfit—a denim shirt and a pair of white pants. He gave me a warm smile and asked me, "What happened to you, Taylor?"

"Why are you here?" I asked him.

"Honestly...Damien told me." He admitted, looking away.

"Hold on, he knows who you are?" I murmured out in confusion.

Peter scratched the back of his neck and said, "Yeah we've never really officially met before."

However, it didn't sound sincere. That's right, he had already known him because they were in the same high school after all. But, they had never met or talked before.

"Ah...yeah. So, why did Damien tell you I am here?" I asked him, lifting an eyebrow.

He sighed and said, "You've been here for days and you haven't come out at all to classes."

"I don't need to." I told him.

"What?" He responded in confusion. "Why?"

"I called in sick, no school can force an ill student to attend classes. As the school knows, I'm very ill." I sarcastically told him, somehow venting my anger slightly.