The Cinderella Agreement (Completed) [Featured Story]

05: The Ugly Duckling

     "YOU look horrible," Finn commented, shuddering, as the both of them moved in the lunch queue.

And it was true; her hair looked like a family of mole rats had moved in to make it their new home, and her baggy attire and half-lidded, bloodshot eyes made her look like a dodgy, homeless chainsmoker. But that didn't mean he couldn't at least sugarcoat it.

Mit pursed her lips in annoyance, bringing fresh emotion onto her stoic face. "Thanks, dear friend. I feel sooo much better now," she said sarcastically. Too tired to pull her disgusted face, she begrudgingly decided to let Dorothy have an easy win today.

"You're basically a slave at this point," Finn laughed, and she wanted nothing more than to rip out his tongue. "What did they ask you to do?"

She yawned, and he became well acquainted with her uvula. "Last night Paris called me at like, ten or so; I'd been sleeping. You know how important my sleep is, right?"

He nodded solemnly.

Mit was unable of functioning like a proper human being without at least nine hours of sleep, her body automatically gearing into zombie mode if it wasn't pleased with the amount of shut-eye it got. High school was bad enough as it was, incessantly tampering with her sleeping schedule; she didn't need anyone making it any worse.

"Apparently she and some of her friends were at the movies. God knows if those girls are vampires, like who the fûck goes to the movies on a school night at two hours to fucking midnight? Must be why they sparkle in the sun; highlighter my ass." She paused to breathe (and lower her rising blood pressure), before continuing, "They needed snacks. Snacks. Like they can't buy some there or at a nearby store or something. I went to Walmart to buy cheeseballs and then met them there, but they said that 'they don't like cheeseballs'," Mit mimicked in a whiny voice, "so I had to go again to get cookies instead."

Her spiel ended abruptly, her chest rising and falling as she drew in ragged breaths, both from a lack of oxygen and a renewed sense of anger.

Her gaze wasn't fixed on Finn; he was quiet, save for a steady, thoughtful hum emitting from his throat as his mind mulled.

To be honest, she thought that he was going to say something contributive, perhaps some advice or even some camaraderie backbites against Paris. But instead, he said, "You never get me cookies."

Her face went flat instantaneously, and she deadpanned, "Just shut up," whilst harshly flicking his ear.

It was her turn to get lunch on the line, and her tray lowered when Dorothy forcefully slapped a dollop of meatloaf onto it. Mit put a crisp dollar note into the payments jar, stepping back to allow Finn get his turn.

He had still been nursing his reddening ear and grumbling beforehand, but he put on a forced smile as he moved forward. "Hey, Dorothy. You look ravishing today," Mit heard Finn say while she walked away from the line. "Is it a new lipstick you're using? Did you polish your mole? I love what you did with your hair; how did you make it come out of your nose like that?"