The Way You Loved Me [Under Edit]

"Always Cinderella.."

"I'm glad you and Mara have been talking," Mom said later that evening. She was driving me across town to Mara's house and hadn't stopped talking for ten minutes.

    "Me too," I replied, staring at my hands.

    "What are you guys doing tonight?"

    "Probably just hanging out," I half-lied. She didn't need to know about the party; she'd never let me go to Mara's if she had known where we were going that night.

   "That's good," She murmured, turning into Mara's subdivision. Mara wasn't what you'd call a "rich girl," but there was no doubt that her family was well off. Driving up to the three story, brick home, I couldn't help but sigh. I hadn't been a guest there in ages and I couldn't stop the nervousness from creeping in.

    "Well I'll see you later," I grumbled, reaching into the backseat to grab my duffel bag. "Love you." Climbing out of the car, I nodded at mom before closing the door and headed up the front steps.

   When Mara and I were younger, we would dress up as Disney Princesses --she was always Cinderella and I was always Belle-- and parade down the white stone steps.

    "Princess Belle, shall we have tea," her nine-year-old self cooed as she smoothed out her blue dress.

   "Why yes!" I laughed, curtseying. For a moment I paused, my hand clutching the iron railing tightly.

    "Best friends forever," Mara's childish voice echoed, the images of the past exiting just as quickly as they had started.

   The front door opened as soon as I was about to knock, Mara's sunkissed faced spreading into a bright smile. "You came!"

   "Of course I came," I laughed, stepping inside and gasping slightly. I'd forgotten just how big her home was. With nautical blue walls and white furniture, the foyer looked like a picture straight out of a Home and Garden magazine. Mara's mother had always loved interior design and chose that career path for many years.. until she had Mara, that is.

    I'd always thought that Ms. Lange had blamed Mara for her short career as a designer; after all, Mara's father wanted to settle down immediately, while she was quite reluctant.

     Mara's parents never married, they'd never had the desire. Ms. lange and Mr. Hawthorne were best friends growing up, more or less "friends with benefits." Neither one trusted anyone as much as the other and they were reluctant to allow anyone else access to their little world. Mara's mother promised that if she wasn't married by thirty, then she'd settle with Mara's father. At age 31, Ms. Lange gave birth to her second daughter, Mara. And yet, they still never married.

    My mind wandered back to reality as I followed Mara to her bedroom. "Where exactly is the party?"

   "Well, Liam said something about West Egg," Mara replied, shrugging her shoulders. West Egg? That was about a town over.

    "Every time I hear that name, I think of The Great Gatsby," I said, tossing myself onto her queen-sized bed. Closing my eyes, I envisioned that evening. Liam and Spenser would arrive and we'd all drive to the party and have a great time. It'd been awhile since I'd attended a party, far too long.

   "I love that book," She stated, plopping down beside me. Reading a Vogue magazine, Mara hummed to herself. "Do you think tonight will be fun?"

   Opening an eye to peer at her, I raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't it be?"

   "I don't know," She bit her bottom lip, "Things are different now."

   "Everyone keeps telling me that, but I have yet to see why."

   She sighed and nodded slightly, as if mentally agreeing to something, "You'll see eventually."