Bad Boy's Ain't Bad
Cassidy's POV
For some reason, I've been thinking about what Brendan told me. But then I thought it made no sense to me at all. Clive and I were known to be best friends. Maybe Brendan was just saying that to get to my head.
I was on my way to the theatre. A few of my other schoolmates were rehearsing their scripts. Clive always sat at his small corner, wearing that genuine smile that made my heart smiled at ease.
I walked over to him and sat down, hugging my arms around him, “How are you?”
“With you here, I think I am fine, ” he told me, murmuring in my hair.
“Why so?”
“Mom was in surgery yesterday. I'm a little bit worried, ” he said.
“And you haven't told me. I can't imagine what you're going through. I really am sorry.”
“Don't be. She's strong. She will pull through, ” he told me, slightly smiling, “So...have you practised your scripts?”
“I did. Did you?”
He sighed, looking down at the scripts in his hands, “I tried to.”
“Listen to me. She will be fine. Take your mind off it a little bit. Okay?”
He nodded, “Okay, ” he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.
Apart from all this, I could hear a few murmurings and chattering. Now I knew what the problem was. Everyone was talking about me and how I had sex with Brendan when I sure did not. Talk about rumours and boys like Brendan.
“This is definitely not happening, ” I rubbed my temples.
“It is. You didn't do it so just try your hardest to ignore them, ” Clive told me.
“I will try, ” I told him.
--
I was tucking myself in the Cinderella dress while the other girls were bickering about me as they changed into their costumes. Breathe. I need to breathe.
When I was ready, I went out on set to get in line for rehearsal. For once, the bickering ceased. Clive was all suit up in his Prince charming outfit, making my smile glowed. He was handsome.
“Okay students. The musical is four days away. Today, we are not using the scripts. I hope you rehearsed your lines and remember them. We are rehearsing the second to last scene and we should start in about five minutes. In the meantime, recap your lines until the time is up, ” Mrs Phillips told us and we listened.
Clive walked to where I was and his smile grew wider, “I mean, you really are Cinderella.”
“I should say the same thing about you. Quite the prince type, ” I raffled his hair and he frowned.
“Come on. You can't do that here, ” he whines.
“Fine. I will not. Okay, let's start, ” I told him, looking at the scripts in my hands.
Whitney walked inside the theatre and scanned her eyes around the place. Her eyes landed on me and her stare hardened.
Every step she took revolved around her in anger. She walked on stage but luckily before she got to me Mrs Phillips walked out and stood in front of her.
“And why are you here, Whitney? If you want to make excuses to come back in the play, your spot has been taken and you shouldn't be here. Leave before I give you another detention.” Mrs Phillips scolds.
“But-”
“Leave, ” She warns.
Whitney took a long glance at me before she looked back at Mrs Phillips then stormed out the theatre.
“Why do I feel like a dead person when I did nothing wrong, ” I told Clive.
“It's Brendan's fault. He's the one that posted on the gram telling people that you had sex with him. That was low of that...” he lowered his voice,“...fuck-face.”
“You're right, ” I told him, then laughed after.
“Time is up. Get in your places and let's start, ” Mrs Phillips told us as she walked off set.
We all jumped in our places for the musical. Here I go.
-*-
Narrator: She entered the ballroom and the prince laid eyes on her beauty.
The theatre door slowly opened to reveal Brendan. He closed it slowly and sat in the audience section, looking at me then smiling. For some reason, I found it quite intimidating.
Clive walked over to me since he was my prince charming in the musical, “Can I have this dance with you?”
“Oh yes, your highness.”
“Cut, ” Mrs Phillips cuts the play and rubbed her temples in frustration, “I am not feeling it.”
“Um...Mrs Phillips. I can help you with that, ” Brendan stood from his chair from the audience section.
She turned to look in his direction, “Okay. I didn't know when you came in. What are you planning?”
“Well, I think musicals are a little bit too...old. I'd advise you do the story instead. But you'll have to change the scripts and get new posters for this one. I'd like to help, ” Brendan told her and she nodded.
“He is right. We should do the story instead. Okay. I'll gather the other scripts, ” Mrs Phillips said and the others groaned, “Come on guys. I know you don't want to start practising new scripts but he got a point. Meet me every day after school for practice. I'll go get the scripts, ” she disappeared out the theatre.
God, I was suffocating in this dress. Brendan sat down and looked up from his eyelashes at me, always giving me that cheesy smirk.
Clive looked at him then looked at me.
He broke our stares, “That means we have to start all over from scratch.”
“I think he got a point. Musicals are a little bit too old. This requires sleepless nights. I can't wait until it is over, ” I plopped down on the nearest seat I could find on set. A few other girls gathered around Brendan and giggled at his jokes.
Some kept bickering, hating on me. If they only knew the truth.
“You look gorgeous in this dress, ” Clive compliments.
“As always, ” I stretched my hand out to raffled his hair but he gave me the warning finger.
“Don't you dare, ” he chuckled.
When Mrs Phillips returned, she called us in a group for our scripts. I took mines and scanned my eyes from back to front. Boy, I was screwed.
“How is this possible for me to recite in just four days?” I slapped my hands on my legs and sighed.
Clive rubbed my shoulder, “You will be fine. You will before the time.”
“I hope so.”
“Brendan since this was your idea, I need you to make the posters and get them printed by tomorrow. Is that okay?” Mrs Phillips asked.
Brendan nodded, “Yes of course.”
“Okay, guys. Let me show you how it's done and you'll follow.”
--
[Note: The Cinderella Story below, I got it from Chrome. It is not mines. Thank you]
We were now rehearsing our new scripts. Here we go.
Narrator: Once there lived a poor servant girl. Her days were long and gruelling—filled with the most tiresome and tedious chores. Scrubbing floors. Washing clothes. Dusting shelves. And cooking meals.
She was made to work from dawn until dusk without a single penny in return for her long-suffering hardship. It was the most terrible injustice. You see, her mother had died and her father soon remarried. But his new wife was a simply wretched woman. And she had—from a previous marriage—two equally wretched daughters of her own. They would tease the poor girl dreadfully each day.
Anastasia and Drizella taunted and chanted while I swept the cinders from the fire, “Cinders… cinders… sweep sweep sweep, in those rags in which you sleep, from this day your name will be Cinderella… hee… hee… hee!”
Narrator: And—sure enough—from that day forward the servant girl’s real name was forgotten and she became known across the land as Cinderella. She was a meek and mild-natured young lady. Despite years of torment from her wicked step-mother and beastly step-sisters, she did not once raise her voice to them or try to avenge them. Nor did she wish them ill. She simply continued with her duties in the hope that one day—when she was older—she would escape and live the wonderful life of which she had often dreamed. One day, came a knock on the door.
I opened it.
In front of me stood a small, rotund man dressed in royal regalia, carrying an important-looking scroll. Behind him stood two armoured knights flying flags embossed with the King’s Arms.
The little man unrolled the scroll and began to read aloud, “It is my duty to announce,’ he said, formally, “that his majesty the King sends forth an invitation. To all the young ladies of this fine kingdom to attend The Royal Ball at the palace.”
We finished half of the play and everyone was now hungry, tired and sweaty.
“Your time is up here. I will see you guys after school, ” Mrs Phillips told us as she made her way to the exit.
“I feel like I am dying, ” I walked with Clive offset.
“I'll get you something to eat.”
Brendan got up from his seat and stopped me with that same cheesy smile, “You were good up there. Your poor feet must be killing you, ” he fixed his eyes with my very own.
Clive clenched his jaws, “She doesn't need your pity.”
Brendan rotated his eyes to Clive and fixed his eyes with him, “The last time I've check, she can speak for herself.”
I watched them both giving each other a mental stare-down.
“You guys need help and I don't have the energy, ” I walked off not knowing if Clive was following. I was heading to my locker, by the way. Clive caught up with me as I opened my locker, “Nothing here.” I said, closing it.
“I have your favourite. Donuts, ” he opened his backpack, taking out a doughnut.
“You saved my life, ” I grabbed it and unwrapped the wrapper.
“All the time.”
“Clive...I need to ask you something, ” I bite inside the food.
“What is it?”
“Do you have a crush on me?”
--
Hello dear friends. Thank you all for reading. Remember to drop a comment, vote, follow, share and copy link. Remember to keep your hopes high and aim to the sky.
Q: Do you think he has a crush on her? 2 reasons why?
Signing Out,
Krystal.