Secrets of the Sisterhood (The Cinderella Society, Episode 1)

THE CINDERELLA SOCIETY

Episode #1

Kay Cassidy

THE CINDERELLA SOCIETY has gotten its very own ultimate makeover
(just like Jess)
!

Go behind the scenes with Kay to find out how the original
CINDERELLA SOCIETY
novel became a full-fledged series:

www.kaywrites.com

For my mom:

My role model, my friend, and the world’s first Honorary Cindy.

I miss you.

Chapter One

There are moments in life when you know things will never be the same. When you’re called to the edge of adventure and given the chance to break free, uninhibited by your past, and claim the life you were meant to live.

Relax. This was totally not that kind of day.

Everyone around me was either scribbling furiously to finish their advanced algebra final, talking quietly until Mr. Norman gave them dirty looks, or texting each other on cell phones discreetly tucked into pants pockets and Prada totes. Me? I was mostly trying to be invisible. Praying to end my heinous year without drawing more negative “new kid” attention from my cohorts at Mt. Sterling High.

The last bell finally rang, and the rest of the class rushed the door in hot pursuit of a summer of freedom. In two seconds flat, it was just Mr. Norman and me gathering up our stuff.

“Great job catching up, Jess,” he said as he shoved our exams into his battered briefcase. “Transferring mid-semester is tough, but your grades are top of the class. Your last math teacher would be proud.”
 

Super.

Don’t get me wrong. Usually, a teacher’s compliment is not something I’d scoff at. I work my butt off to keep up my GPA. But right then, being a brainiac was about the only thing I had going. And when the one person who bothers to engage you in conversation is a fortysomething who reads
The Calculus News
cover to cover, you know you’re inches away from rock bottom on the social barometer.

I waved my thanks—not wanting to alienate a teacher I’d have for trig next year—and headed for the door.

By the time I hit the hall, it looked more like a frat house than a high school. Or what I imagined a frat house would look like. High fives were being exchanged, and many a folder’s contents had been unceremoniously dumped in the nearest trash. Kids raced outside, throwing confetti laced with M&M’s and shouting reminders of upcoming parties to friends, while Janitor Joe bellowed about messes and respect and proper receptacle use. Even Rick, the hottie assistant janitor, was shaking his head, and he couldn’t have been much older than we were.

And then there was me, silently making my way through the madness. I reached my side hall, but couldn’t get to my locker because of the couple making out in front of it. Classy. Now I had to stand there looking like a gawker or find something to do, quick.

I leaned against a standard-issue gray door a few lockers down from mine and started doodling on my folder, keeping the writhing couple in my peripheral vision until I could make a play for my locker.

The bane of my existence walked by, flanked by her cronies, and slowed to look into my locker alcove. Lexy tossed her straight jet-black hair over one shoulder and whispered to her gang. They stared at me with undisguised contempt while Morgan, Lexy’s chief suck-up, cackled with laughter.

Subtle, my enemies were not.

You’d think Lexy would’ve gotten bored of tormenting me after two months, even though I made an easy target. I’d only been there a couple of weeks when they’d had cheerleading tryouts for next year’s team. Cheering was the one thing I looked forward to no matter how many times we moved. I loved it. The precision, the creativity, the high of nailing the perfect stunt. The problem was that by adding me—an outsider in the MSH cheer ranks—to the varsity team, there was one less spot for the insiders. Namely one Alexandra “Lexy” Steele. A defeat she did not accept gracefully. Or quietly.

So now, most people knew me by face, though I’d usually be referred to as “That New Girl.” Spoken with disdain. That New Girl who stole super popular, nasty-as-a-Rottweiler Lexy Steele’s spot.
 

Sometimes invisibility is bliss.

Knowing she had my full attention, Lexy turned into my alcove. She bumped past the heavy breathers and stopped inches away from me. “Rumor has it you’ve got big plans for the summer. Hanging with our Beaumont besties, are we?”

Lexy’s sidekicks snickered at the infamous rumor that I’d wanted to cheer at rival Beaumont High because I thought the MSH cheer team was “a bunch of stuck-up divas who wouldn’t know a handspring from a hand-me-down.”

I considered ignoring her, but it was kind of hard to do when she was close enough to smell the Tic Tac on my breath. I tried to sound bored. “Why would I do that when I’ve never met them? The rumor doesn’t even make sense.”

Not that any of my teammates seemed to notice. Lexy had succeeded in planting a jerky snob reputation on me before I’d even gotten to know them. My chances of winning them over as the nice new girl? Slim to none.

Stuck on the outside again.

“Funny thing about rumors,” Lexy said. “They don’t have to be true, now, do they? They only have to be believable enough to make an impact.” A self-satisfied smile hinted at her lips. “Tell me, Thief . . . did it make an impact?”

And there you go.
 

I’d always suspected Lexy had to be the source of the rumor—given her personal vendetta against me—but I’d never expected her to own up to the lie so willingly. Or be so proud of it. Then again, what good was her power if she couldn’t flaunt it when the mood struck?

And yes, of course it was a total lie. But it was also a lie I hadn’t known about until the damage was done. With no one to back up my side of the story, the cheerleaders were keeping their distance.
 

I might’ve beaten Lexy for a spot, but she’d made sure they wouldn’t accept me as one of their own.

“Why don’t you just quit and save yourself the misery?” she asked, mock sadness twisting her lips into a frown. “Don’t you ever get tired of being around people who think you’re nothing?”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from saying one of the thousand rude things spinning through my mind. And to keep my emotions under wraps. I’d never let her get a rise out of me yet, but I suspected we both knew that day was coming. Cornered at my locker on the last day of school, however, wasn’t the time or place.

Instead, I stared straight back at Lexy, giving her a carefully schooled expression of self-assured indifference. I’d perfected that look a long time ago to guard against bullies. You couldn’t look angry or threatening (that only engaged them), and you couldn’t look intimidated (a massive bully turn-on). It was a fine line to walk, but you couldn’t afford to overstep it if you wanted any chance of being left alone.

“Not up to a challenge today, huh?” she pouted. “You disappoint me, Parker. I’d lower my expectations of you, but they’re already six feet under.”

Smug in the knowledge that she’d won another round, Lexy about-faced and headed for the main hall. She said something under her breath that prompted her whole crew to swivel their heads in my direction. They looked down their surgically sculpted noses, dismissed me as meaningless, and strolled out of sight.

Relief bubbled up, followed by a depressing sigh. After nine moves in sixteen years (thanks to my dad’s environmental consulting assignments) this was the worst case of new-kid-itis yet.

Most people thought being a cheerleader made you an automatic insider, but no. I only skirted the edges of popularity by association. I’d spent most of my existence so close to the In crowd I could smell their designer perfume, but I had never once crossed the threshold of acceptance. It was like living with your face pressed against the window, your breath steaming up the glass, while the world twirled on without you. If I didn’t love cheering so much, I’d walk away from that window and never look back.

I’d built houses for Habitat for Humanity, ladled out scoops of chili at soup kitchens, and taken countless pictures of abandoned animals to put on local adoption Web sites. I was the quintessential Volunteer Girl. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of karmic payback for being a decent person?

My already sagging spirits were dangerously close to zeroing out when I heard the voice that made me swoon even on the worst day. I looked up, waiting for Ryan to turn the corner into the alcove across from mine.

“No way, man,” Dale Boone was saying as he and my future husband came into view. “I heard Frau Gardner’s given out the same German exam three years in a row. That’s the only way Mike could’ve aced it. His sister had the Frau last year.”

“The vocab killed me,” Ryan said. He shook his head, spun the combo, and opened his locker. “She didn’t pick anything from the first six chapters.”

I watched Ryan’s dark hair flick out from under his Braves hat. So silky, so dreamy, so perfect for running your fingers through. My yummy Ryan Steele. If only he knew my name.
 

Or at least knew me as something other than his sister’s archenemy.

Ryan and Dale continued their German commiseration, and I let myself drink in the sight of him. Tall and muscular, with the chiseled jaw of Jake Gyllenhaal. Toss in major sweetness (even to the geeks and nerds) and good old-fashioned Southern charm, and he was one hundred percent fantasy-worthy. The kind of guy who made me wish I were five-eight, blonde, and leggy, not five-three with a baby face, a smattering of freckles, and a dull brown mop for hair.

I let the fantasies roll free in my mind. If only Lexy weren’t bent on destroying my best shot at belonging here. If only the cheerleaders had tried to get to know me before Lexy got her claws into them. If only Ryan knew I existed.

If only I could break out of my crushing social jail. Then my life would be perfect.

Ryan tossed his things into his sleek black duffel, and as quickly as he’d arrived, he was on his way out. Out of school, out of my life, for an entire summer. I wondered if the world would swallow me whole from Ryan withdrawal.
 

And then, it happened. Just as Ryan turned toward the main hall and a clean getaway, he looked across into my alcove.
 

I froze. How could anyone’s eyes be so mesmerizing? Even from twenty feet away, they made my breath hitch.

In one of the most shocking turn of events since I’d moved—and that was saying something—Ryan’s face broke into a dazzling smile when he saw me. He lifted a hand in a half wave and called out a baritone “Have a good summer” that nearly melted me into a puddle.