The Princess Pages: A Girl Like Cinderella

Song Twenty Six

HER NAME IS CARA WALL.

Everyone at the ball turned to stare at the new arrival.

She was standing at the top of the grand staircase, her arms behind her back as she timidly surveyed the sophisticated interior of the Jillian Hotel.

All pairs of eyes were on her, watching her, ogling her, and some of the teenagers had pulled out their phones to snap pictures and film her every movement, including Jacqueline Jones.

Luther Henderson's and Brendan Snider's mouths were hanging open stupidly.

Trent Morgan's lips parted in awe, and his heart stilled at the ethereal girl who had caught everyone's attention.

Her blonde semi up-do shone in the vintage chandelier's lights, her strapless white gown accentuating her slim figure, and her arms were clad in long gloves, making her appear more elegant. She looked like she was floating on air; her full skirt made of glittering tiers, bathed in flowing gray tulle. Whenever she moved, the skirt sparkled, and her blue butterfly hairpin shimmered in tune with the bouncing of her yellow hair.

When I see your face, there's not a thing that I would change 'cause you're amazing.. Just the way you are..

But why was she wearing a mask?

It didn't matter. He was just glad that she finally came.

The handsome model watched, transfixed, as the quiet blonde girl gracefully descended the grand red velvet staircase, impervious to the cameras and heated stares aimed at her, and she kept her arms behind her,as if hiding something.

She was so demure, so aloof,that it only added to her mysterious air, making every person in the ballroom guard her every step.

Uncaring of the phones and cameras trained on her from every angle, the placid blonde girl brought her gloved hands in front of her, presenting the prominent singer with a small red paper bag.

In a daze, Trent's bright green eyes met her dark jade ones, and he asked quietly, "Is this for me?"

She nodded fervently,her full red lips tugged into a soft smile. "Belated Happy Birthday, Mr. Trent," she whispered in a low voice, her deep green eyes twinkling with happiness.

Everybody stared at the red paper bag in Trent's hands.

"T-Thank you." Why the hell was he stammering!?

He handed the paper bag to Brad,who'd been openly gawking at the exchange. "Dude, could you..?"

Brad took the item from his friend, retreating outside the hotel to place the present in the limo.

The masked girl shrugged her delicate shoulders, her radiant smile blinding everyone looking at her. 

Oh you know, you know, you know I'd never ask you to change.. If perfect's what you're searching for then just stay the same.. the male pianist resumed the song.

"You're really here," Trent breathed, his forest green eyes surveying her face.

Her mouth formed a teasing smile, making his heart jump. "I suppose I am." She leaned forward so only Trent could hear: "But if I weren't, that would make me a ghost, wouldn't it?" she said in a whisper, then drew back before the sought-after model could reply.

The young man was stunned. She had quick wit, that was for certain. But he recalled her voice, that vivid, talented voice, and he was sure that the girl behind the Cd was her.

Before the male singer could figure out his next move, the Valentine's Ball resumed its earlier state. Sort of. Some teenagers were dancing and serving themselves snacks, but most of them, including half the guys in the place, were feasting their eyes on the latest arrival.

Several young men surrounded her, and across the room, Luther Henderson was watching the stunning blonde girl with a predatory leer on his face.

"Do you live here in California?" one guy asked her.

"Have we met somewhere before?" another queried.

"Is it true you study in Green Day High?"

"Stupid. Of course she does!"

"Can I have your number?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

The lovely masked girl gave short replies, sometimes nodding her head, but often enough, she didn't answer all the questions thrown her way. It only intrigued them more, though.

"Hi." A boy's voice cut in the flurry of banter and flirty comments. The girl knew him.

His name was Josh Mantle. He had blue-colored hair in a small ponytail on his nape, and tonight he was wearing a pale brown tuxedo with a black tie. He had a swimmer's body, as expected of the Green Day High Captain of the Swim Team, and in general, she knew he was a nice guy.

"Hi," she acknowledged him, flashing him a warm smile. 

"My name is Josh. May I know what yours is?" He asked politely, aware of the daggers being shot at him by a group of guys.

Her unreadable green eyes met his expressive brown ones, and she felt like he didn't mind that half her face was concealed behind a white mask.

"Cara," she whispered, low enough for no one to recognize her voice. She made sure to alter it a little so none would be the wiser.

Josh Mantle smiled at her. "May I have the honor of being your first dance?" he bowed his head like a gentleman.

"Cara" paused for a moment, her emerald eyes gazing at his open palm. She happily accepted it, placing her hand in his, and Josh led her onto the spacious dance floor, envious glares being sent in the young man's direction.

"Dude, what the hell was that??" Brad, who had returned minutes ago, shook Trent's shoulder.

The model said nothing, his gaze solely on the blonde in the white gown, currently gliding effortlessly across the ballroom's dance floor. She danced like she sang. Professionally. Flawlessly. Incredibly. He couldn't believe she was really here. In the same room as him.

For days he couldn't stop thinking about her. What she may look like, what her name could be, how their first meeting would ensue.

But now they were breathing the same air, and he wanted nothing more than to talk to her in private. And to dance with her, because honestly, her dancing was smooth, so full of life, so ebullient. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

"You could have asked her to dance! Why didn't you?" Brad demanded.

Trent blinked twice. "I.. don't know. I was distracted."

A hearty chuckle erupted from Lawrence's throat. "Yeah, I can tell."

Brad slung an arm over Trent's shoulders, pointing at the center of attention in a white dress.

"Okay, here's the plan. I'll tell the pianist to take a break and I'll play a good song on my playlist, connecting it to the speakers. You do want to dance with her, don't you?"

The brown-haired model absentmindedly nodded, his eyes riveted on the blonde girl whose white gown was swishing along the shiny wooden floor.

For an instant, the girl glanced over her dance partner's shoulder, her gleaming green eyes locking on Trent's, but all too soon, their eye-connection vanished, as she had to spin in her partner's arms.

For the first time in his life, Trent Morgan was rendered speechless.