A Shot with Prince Charming: A YA Romance Prequel Novella Read online

  And then, there she was. The back door opened, and Ruby came out. Just like always, my world tilted around me. Time seemed to stop whenever she entered my line of vision.

  She spotted me and smiled, and I could have sworn I felt that smile all the way to my bones. She looked down and hitched up the skirt of the Cinderella dress that was still a little too long on her, despite whatever last minute adjustments she and my mom had tried to do in there.

  My attention was caught by a crowd of newcomers who’d emptied out of a minivan in the driveway. They were heading toward the backyard. The little kids and older women I didn’t recognize, but there was a girl in the midst of them who was extremely familiar.

  Emily. My ex. Kinda. Sort of.

  It was complicated.

  But she was there, and she was walking this way with a look of boredom that loudly announced just how much she didn’t want to be here. Any second now, she’d see me standing here. Dressed as Prince Charming.

  I did what any grown man in tights and a tunic would do.

  I hid.

  Three

  Ruby

  One second my very own Prince Charming was standing there smiling at me, looking too good to be true and ridiculously hot considering the costume, and then…

  He ducked. Or maybe he rolled. I froze in surprise at the uncharacteristic move.

  Jackson Messner had never struck me as a run-and-hide kind of guy. That was totally my move. Which was why I followed him to the shrubbery by the side of the house. I looked around in confusion at the sight of his tights-clad legs sticking out from behind a particularly large bush. After a quick glance around, I approached with caution. “Um...Jackson?”

  He looked up at me in surprise. “Oh. Hey, Ruby.”

  I hitched up my skirt and squatted down so we were at eye level. I had no idea what he was doing over here, or why I’d even followed him over, but to be honest, hiding on the sidelines was kind of my jam and I was here for it. Even if it meant I was alone with Jackson Messner.

  Which was terrifying.

  But was it more terrifying than being surrounded by a throng of people expecting me to play the part of a happy-go-lucky princess?

  Maybe.

  Possibly.

  It was a toss up.

  Jackson’s smile was pure cool, calm hotness, as usual. “Care to join me?”

  A laugh bubbled up too quickly for me to stop it. “Uh, yeah. Okay.”

  He shifted so I could sit beside him, and then we were both leaning against the house, listening to the sound of screaming children and the quieter sound of their moms greeting each other.

  “So…” he said, smiling over at me like this was totally normal.

  Which it was. For me. “So,” I repeated. “Can I ask you something?”

  He arched a brow. “Is it ‘why are you hiding?’”

  “It is.”

  His smile broadened and morphed into a wince all at once. As someone who’d spent more than her fair share staring at Jackson’s mouth, I was continually amazed at all the myriad and wonderful ways he could smile.

  I had one smile as far as I knew. Jackson had roughly eight thousand. And they were all hot.

  I held back a sigh. One of these days I really had to get over this crush. Ideally today. Right now, in fact. That would be nice.

  He’d turned to stare straight ahead.

  The silence lasted a beat too long, and I’d never been big on awkward silences. I hurried to fill it. “Are you going to tell me why you’re hiding or is it a state secret?”

  “I don’t want to have to kill you,” he said with a shrug.

  Another unexpected laugh escaped. This was the problem with Jackson. He wasn’t nearly as boring as one might hope he’d be. It was what made him lethal. A handsome but boring preppy jock? No problem.

  A handsome but interesting preppy jock? Different story altogether. It made him far too intriguing.

  Which was a problem when you were trying to get over a crush.

  “You know Emily Ellis?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Of course.” Everyone knew Emily Ellis. She was like the female equivalent of Jackson Messner. Beloved. Smiley. Perfect.

  “She’s here,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  Which...maybe it did? I eyed his outfit. “And what?” I teased. “You don’t think she’ll be able to get this image out of her head the next time you kiss her?”

  His head whipped around to face me just in time to catch my blush. Crap. Why’d I have to go and use the word ‘kiss’? Now all I could think about was him kissing someone.

  Okay fine, me. The person he was kissing in my imagination was me.

  His eyes were wide with shock. “I don’t kiss Emily Ellis.”

  He sounded...offended.

  Oh crap.

  I stared down at my lap as my brain went into full panic mode trying to figure out how to get my foot out of my mouth. Mayday, mayday. Abort! Abort! “I, um, didn’t mean...I mean, it doesn’t...It doesn’t matter.” Those were the awesomely eloquent words that came out of my mouth in a garbled mumble.

  He leaned forward like he was trying to catch my eye. Impossible to do unless he wanted to lie down in my lap. No way was I going to look him in the eye while my cheeks were still on fire.

  “No, I mean…” He huffed in exasperation. “Emily and I aren’t together. You know that, right?”

  It was the weird intensity in his voice that had me lifting my head. “Um…”

  He let out another loud exhale, and I had the horrible feeling that I’d disappointed him. “You thought we were together?”

  “Yes?” I wasn’t sure why I said it like a question. Or why my voice suddenly sounded like a mouse squeaking. It was just...well, he seemed really annoyed.

  I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Jackson Messner annoyed. Serious, yes. He was often serious on the football field. But never angry, or frustrated, or even annoyed.

  “Emily and I went out on like two dates. Two years ago,” he said.

  “Oh. Okay.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure what he expected me to say to that, but the emphatic way he’d said it made me want to reassure him.

  He ran a hand over his short dirty-blond hair. “So all this time you thought…you thought that me and Emily were a couple?”

  I flinched at his obvious anger. I had no clue why this topic made the typically laid-back Jackson so upset, but I felt bad I’d ever mentioned the ‘kiss’ word. “Um, yes?”

  His head fell against his chest, and he ran a hand over his eyes. “We aren’t a couple.”

  “Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear.” I looked toward the edge of the house as if assistance might come along. I sent a telepathic cry for help to Flynn. We weren’t exactly besties, but Flynn and I got each other. We were both happier on the outskirts of the action, and neither of us were big on talking. He was the only person at these weekend gigs who didn’t expect me to fill the silence, and vice versa. So I supposed that made us friends?

  But apparently our friendship didn’t extend to telepathy because Flynn did not appear to save the day, and I was now officially drowning in the awkwardness of this moment.

  I could feel Jackson’s gaze on the side of my face as if he was taking a blowtorch to my cheeks. “Why would you think we were together?”

  I shrugged. That apparently was not enough of an answer, however, because he continued to stare. And wait.

  “Um…” I chewed on my lower lip. How to explain that everyone thought they were together. Or hooking up, at least. That seemed to be the general consensus. “I don’t know. Pictures, I guess?” And the fact that she’s always hanging all over you in the hallways.

  I kept that part to myself. No need to sound jealous. Because I wasn’t. Only a crazy person would be jealous of a perfect person catching the eye of another perfect person.

  There was their perfect world and then there was Ruby’s world, and never the twain shall meet.

  “Pictures,” he muttered
beside me, as if this word was new to him. Then he shifted to better face me. “Like on social media?”

  No, like your driver’s licence photo. They really give off an I-heart-Emily vibe. I just barely refrained from rolling my eyes as I nodded.

  He scrubbed a hand over his eyes again, looking for all the world like he was battling for patience. “Ruby, you more than anyone should know that pictures don’t tell the whole story.”

  I stiffened in defense. This was just about the worst thing one could say to a gal who was heading to school for photojournalism. But I didn’t think he meant to cause offense, so I kept my voice measured and even. “I don’t know. I think there’s nothing more honest.”

  “In your photos, yes.” He sounded just as earnest, and it had me looking over, my eyes widening in surprise at the intensity in his expression. “Ruby your photos are...are...Well, they’re amazing.”

  I ducked my head to hide another blush. “Thanks.”

  “I’m serious. Even the photos you take of these parties are just…” He threw his hands up. “I don’t have the words for it. But they’re special. They capture the laughter and the happiness and all the interesting moments that make these events memorable.”

  I murmured another ‘thanks’ as I willed him to stop. I now knew that the only thing more awkward than discussing who my crush did or did not kiss was hearing him praise my work.

  “And the photos you take for the paper?” He shook his head. “You’re just...you’re just—”

  “Okay, I get it.” I held a hand up with a little smile to soften my words. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  He laughed. “Sorry. But my point was, not all pictures are so honest.”

  I stared at him for a long moment. Part of me just wanted to drop it and move on. Another part of me was insanely desperate to understand what he meant. Like, whatever he was trying to get at was somehow crucial and I was missing it. “What do you mean?”

  His gaze held mine as he fished his phone out of a pocket hidden by the tunic. “Here.” He reached an arm out, wrapped it around my shoulders and snapped a photo of us before I could protest.

  “What are you—”

  “Look.” He turned the phone toward me so I could see the image of him grinning, our heads pressed together. “Now we’re a couple.”

  I stared at the photo with parted lips. I got what he was trying to say. Of course I did. I wasn’t an idiot. But now the whole world was shifting as I reframed the past two years, during which I’d tried my hardest not to get butterflies in my stomach whenever Jackson Messner was nearby, because he was taken.

  I’d thought.

  I’d thought he was taken.

  This changes nothing! The voice of reason tried to calm me down, but it didn’t work. If he wasn’t taken. If he was single…

  He was even more dangerous than I’d thought. Those butterflies were swarms of bees as I scooted away from him. “We should get to the party.”

  I felt his gaze on me, but he didn’t protest. “Yeah, my mom will freak if Cinderella doesn’t make an appearance soon.” His teasing tone put me at ease…a little. This was the Jackson I’d come to know. The one who was nice to everyone, even loners and outcasts like me.

  Like I’d said. Dangerous. He made a girl feel special and liked and…

  Ugh. We had to get out of here.

  He reached a hand down to help me to my feet, and I clenched my teeth so I wouldn’t show any emotion as I felt sparks, even through these silly arm-length white gloves.

  “There you are!” Savannah rounded the corner just as we came to stand, and she stopped short at the sight of us. At me. Her big blue eyes grew wide with despair, and I hurried to reassure her.

  “You can still be Cinderella,” I said. “Come on. Let’s go change.”

  “There’s no time.” Her obvious disappointment wasn’t amusing, exactly. I didn’t revel in other people’s misery. But her disappointment was hard for me to fathom.

  But then again, Savannah was pretty much my exact opposite in every way. Except for the fact that we both busted our butts to make money, she was pretty much my opposite. Her long blonde hair was always perfectly styled, her face was always made up, she was loud and bossy—although if she considered you her friend, that could work in your favor. I knew this firsthand. And most of all, she lived for the spotlight.

  Well...and the tips. There was really only one thing that made all these girls so invested in Mrs. Messner’s troupe, and it was the money. Far better, and easier, according to Callie, than most part-time jobs available to a minor in this town.

  Savannah had been waiting years to have the lead spot on this little princess squad, and now here I was, stealing her glory. “Come on.” I nodded toward the house. “We can be quick and—”

  “It’s okay, Ruby.” Savannah’s sad sigh was only moderately melodramatic. “Cinderella will be announced any second now.”

  Her gaze was tragic as it took in the admittedly pretty blue dress which didn’t fit me nearly as well as it would Savannah. But then her expression shifted to something far more...wicked. That was the only word that seemed to fit. We didn’t do many wicked witches in this troupe, except for Halloween parties, but Savannah would have made a great one with that little smirk as she turned her focus to Jackson. “Besides, you two look so cute together.”

  I felt Jackson stiffen at my side. I heard the mockery in her voice, and I had an icky feeling that I was missing something. It wasn’t like Savannah to mock me, and by the knowing look she was giving Jackson, it seemed to have something to do with him.

  Jackson gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed my hand before I could ask.

  We’d nearly reached the edge of the house when Savannah’s voice stopped us short. “Hey, Prince Charming.”

  He stopped and turned. I glanced over my shoulder to see her smirking. The pretty-blonde-bombshell-cat that ate the canary.

  “Don’t forget to kiss Cinderella after the glass shoe part.” She winked. “They eat that up.”

  My heart plummeted to my toes.

  Kiss.

  Kiss?

  How had I forgotten that when Edgar and Kara performed these roles they always hammed it up and ended with a big romantic kiss?

  I was dimly aware of Jackson muttering something under his breath beside me, of Savannah’s smug laughter. But most of all, my heart was pounding like crazy in my chest.

  He didn’t really expect me to kiss him, did he?

  Because that was something I just couldn’t do.

  Jackson squeezed my hand and gave me a little tug to prompt me into action. Next thing I knew, we were living my worst nightmare.

  I glanced up at Jackson, who was giving me a sweet, reassuring little smile as the little girls and their mothers oohed and aahed over Cinderella and her Prince.

  AKA me. AKA Jackson.

  The oxygen seemed to disappear from the hot and humid August air as we drew close to the other princesses who were kneeling down to talk to the little girls at their feet.

  “Here they are!” one of the mothers shouted. She pulled a little girl with a tiara to the front of the crowd. The birthday girl, no doubt.

  My smile hurt my cheeks as Jackson lifted my hand and spun me in a circle, making my skirt swirl around me like I truly had just stepped out of some fairytale.

  “You ready for this?” He drew me close to his side and wrapped an arm around my waist.

  The heat from his body was in sharp contrast to the cold fear that always froze me into a sort of numb stupor when I was in the limelight.

  “No.” My voice was high and tight, and the words were squeezed out from between clenched teeth. Jackson’s low laugh was mildly reassuring, and then...it was happening. “Don’t worry,” he said as we reached the center of the pink and glitter-filled crowd. “I’ve done this dozens of times.”

  I nodded.

  Mrs. Messner, decked out in a fairy godmother outfit, as usual, beamed at me and Jackson. “Let’s hear a
big welcome for Cinderella and her Prince Charming!”

  The crowd went wild, and it was official.

  I was living out my worst nightmare.

  Jackson squeezed my waist, and I looked up to see that dazzlingly handsome smile aimed right at me.

  My heart did a cartwheel as those butterflies launched a full-scale war in my belly. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t breathe. There was a very good possibility I was going to swoon.

  Okay, fine. I was living my worst nightmare...and maybe also my best daydream.

  Four

  Jackson

  The best I could hope for was that Ruby didn’t throw up all over my scratchy, ugly tunic. But judging how well my day had been going so far, I wasn’t feeling too optimistic.

  Her smile was frozen on her face, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who could see the sheer terror in her eyes. But I was definitely the only one who could feel her hand shaking in mine as I knelt before her.

  The little girls and their relatives didn’t seem to notice. They were wide-eyed and open-mouthed with awe as they watched me make a big production out of whipping out the clear, plastic high-heeled shoe my mom had been using as a prop for years now.

  I took Ruby’s hand in mine again. Every time I did, she held on tight, so I had to hope my grip was helping. If nothing else, I could potentially catch her if she were to faint right now. “Almost done,” I murmured. “You’re doing great.”

  Her nostrils flared, but her smile never faded.

  Then she surprised me by hissing through her smile. “Lies.”

  I choked on a laugh at the unexpected whisper. But then again, this was half the reason I liked her so much. I never knew what to expect when I talked to Ruby. Or even just when I watched her. Not to sound too creepy, but I did watch her. A lot. Probably more than was cool, but not enough to classify me as a stalker. I hoped.

  She was just really enjoyable to watch. Her reactions to people and comments were never what I’d expect. It was like she lived to defy expectations. Every time I thought I had her pegged, she’d go and do something to startle me all over again.