Finding Cinderella

ღ Finding Cinderella (24)

ღ Finding Cinderella- 24 ღ

-Tristan-

Three words, eight letters, one regret.

I miss her.

I didn't know how long it had been since we'd faced each other, but it felt like ages. I tried to tell myself to forget about her and let everything go, but I couldn't. She was all I could think about, no matter where I was or what I was doing. This heavy feeling caused me a lot of trouble getting to sleep, but I had to bury it deep and go on with my day.

Twirling my keys between my fingers, I headed downstairs and caught a sweet scent. I walked into the kitchen and saw Mom arranging her newly baked mango tarts on a tray. From the ecstatic look on her face, I could tell she was in a good mood, and that was good timing for me.

I knocked on the doorframe and said, "Hey, Mom, I'm gonna go to Jack's with my friends, okay?"

A curly strand of black hair fell to the side of her face as she lifted her head to me. "Just no drinking, Tristan."

I raised a hand. "Rest assured, it's alcohol-free, no-smoking pool hall. And I don't drink." Okay, that one was a half lie because I did drink at parties, but I'd never been a heavy drinker. I kept myself sober at all times.

Mom raised her eyebrow and nodded. "Okay. Just be back before dinner," she said, taking a roll of aluminum foil out of the box. "Your father's coming home tonight."

I grinned at the news. I hadn't seen Dad for almost two weeks because he'd been staying in Massachusetts for fieldwork. He was that much of a workaholic.

"Sure. Thanks, Mom." I kissed the top of her head and tried to take one of her homemade pastries from the tray, but she lightly slapped my wrist, and I shook my hand, mock hurt. "Hey, why can't I get one?"

"Because it's not for you. It's for Emilie," she said and began wrapping foil around the top of the tray. I gulped when I heard the name of Kylie's mother, knowing where this was going. "Oh, right. Since you're going outside, take this to them."

"Uh. Can't." I waved a hand, taking a step away. "I'm in a hurry. My friends are waiting for me."

"Please, Tristan." She rolled her eyes as she wiped her hands on her apron. "It's not like you're going to spend ten minutes on giving this to our neighbor."

"Mom, it's just—this is just bad timing, okay? I'm not going there."

"What?" She put a hand on her hip and scrutinized me. "Oh, don't tell me you and Kylie got in a fight again?"

I shrugged, avoiding her gaze.

She sighed. "I wonder what's wrong with you kids. Why can't both of you settle your differences and get along with each other? I think Emilie and I should talk about sending you to counseling or something. For Pete's sake, how can I have grandchildren if you two keep doing that?"