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As his words sink in, I decide to let him take care of it. After being the one to deal with everything for so long, it’s nice to have help. But the voice of reason whispers in my head, “Too bad it’s temporary.”
He exits toward the back room, leaving me with my thoughts. I smile despite the guilt I feel for blowing off the soup kitchen. It isn’t like me to ditch responsibilities, but I wanted to be there for him. I would’ve been late to the shelter since Jess called in sick. The only reason I’m done now is because Blake stocked the shelves at record speed. It would’ve taken me double the amount of time.
Though, I would’ve been there for cleanup. When I called earlier, it sounded like there were enough volunteers, but the woman in charge sounded flustered. I hated disappointing people, but this was a losing situation. No matter the choice, someone would be upset. I had to weigh which person needed me more. It’s no surprise that I settled on Blake. It wasn’t even a contest. The shelter had a team of people, whereas Blake didn’t have anyone outside his teammates but me. I wanted to be there for him.
Footsteps pull my attention. As I take in the white button-down shirt that fits snuggly across relaxed shoulders, that infectious grin, and the eagerness in those sapphire eyes, I know I chose well.
“Shall we?” Blake holds his hand out, a touch of playfulness still in his posture.
“Let’s give them a show,” I say, intertwining our fingers and getting lost in the moment.
He guides me out, the bell above the door chiming our exit. I let go of his hand just long enough to lock the door, and then we’re walking hand in hand to the parking lot. The move seems so natural, it hardly seems pretend. This game, these feelings—they weren’t part of the plan. But as we walked, his presence beside me felt like the most genuine thing I’d experienced in a long time.
And that thought alone is enough to send a shiver of fear—and excitement—down my spine.
“Are you ready for the party tonight?”
My sigh is heavy. “I suppose.”
He laughs. “Don’t sound so thrilled.”
“Yeah.”
“What do you have against parties?”
“I don’t hate parties in general. But this is a fraternity party. It screams entitled rich people.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and I realize my words may have offended him. But despite his arrogance and ego, he is not like the people from my past. His confidence comes from his talent on the ice, not his daddy padding his wallet.
“I know. The irony. Here I am walking on a college campus complaining about privilege, but my advantages are way different.”
“So, you’re only biased against people like me?”
I shift uncomfortably. “People with wealth, yes. I suppose so. But it’s complicated.”
He chuckles. “I understand, but there must be a deeper reason behind your feelings.”
I nervously bite my lip, feigning interest in the deserted sidewalk. How much should I reveal about my past? No one knows everything, not even Maddy. I clear my throat before speaking, trying to mimic the headmaster’s condescending tone. “I attended General Academy High School, a pretentious prep school that I was lucky enough to be granted a scholarship.” How many times had I heard those words growing up? “You’re so fortunate to have such generous employers. You’re lucky enough to receive a top-notch education. You’ve been given an amazing opportunity.” The endless praises go on and on, but they never mention the struggle my mother went through with her lack of proper medical benefits. Sure, I benefited from attending prep school, but luck didn’t lead us there.
His fingers grip mine tighter. “So, you were a scholarship kid.”
“Sort of. The family Grandma and Mom worked for was very influential, so I got to attend. Because of theirgenerosity, the other students teased me relentlessly.” I bark out a laugh. “You called me Princess … they called me Cinder Girl.”
Curses fell from his mouth as his expression clouded in anger. “Why the hell did they call you that?”
“Mom couldn’t afford babysitters when I was younger, so I often went to work with her and Grandma. I would help them out. Abigail, the daughter of Mom’s employer, never liked how her parents helped foot my tuition. Therefore, she never liked me because of it.”
“That’s fucked up.”
The oppressive heat of the afternoon sun beats down on us, making our strides slow and heavy. I lift my gaze to the endless expanse of a flawless blue sky, trying to blink away the tears that threaten to spill over. The memories of my time at that wretched school and the people who made it unbearable flood my mind, but none compared to the pain of losing Mom. I would endure anything just to have one more precious moment with her.
“She had a sleepover one night in grade school, and when I went into work that morning, her friends came barreling down the staircase and caught me sweeping the floors. They laughed, said a bunch of crap not worth repeating, and then one yelled out Cinder Girl. The name stuck ever since.” I take a stuttering breath. It’s hard to relive when I felt like an outsider, constantly reminded of my humble beginnings. “It’s silly, I know. But those names have a way of sticking with you.”
Blake’s jaw tightens, and his grip on my hand becomes almost painful. “I can’t believe they treated you like that.”
I give him a small smile, appreciating his protective nature. “It’s in the past now. Just another reason I’ve always been wary of wealthy crowds.”
He stops walking for a moment, turning to face me with a determined look in his eyes. “You don’t have to worry about that tonight, Amanda. I promise you I’ll be right there beside you the whole time. And if anyone dares to say something disrespectful, they’ll regret it.”
