Finding Cinderella (Hopeless, #2.5)

by Colleen Hoover

It’s weird and normal and hot and sad and strange and I don’t really want to let go. It feels kind of euphoric, like we’re in some sort of fairytale. Like she’s Tinkerbell and I’m Peter Pan. No, wait. I don’t want to be Peter Pan. Maybe she can be like Cinderella and I’ll be her Prince Charming.

Her breath tastes like Starburst and it makes me want to keep kissing her until I can identify every single flavor.

In reality, people are who they are and they’ll never really change.

I don’t even know if people should use the words fucking and angel in the same thought structure, but shit. She really looks like a fucking angel with her blonde hair and big eyes.

“Children are naturally inclined to make choices that will displease their parents. If we had told you how we really felt about Val, you probably would have ended up marrying her just to spite us. Which is why we pretended to love her.”

“I might hate you by the end of the date.” “Or I might hate you,” I say. “Impossible.” She props her foot up on the dash. “I’m unhateable.”

“Ignore it all. I want to kiss you and I want you to want me to kiss you and I don’t really feel like waiting until I walk you to your porch tonight because I’ve never really wanted to kiss someone this much before.”

“Don’t open your eyes,” I whisper, still staring at her. “Give me ten more seconds to stare, because you look absolutely beautiful right now.”

“We all have deal breakers, Daniel. Some of us just hope we can keep them hidden forever.”

“It’s human nature to judge.”

“I have no idea who you even are and now you’re my damn girlfriend. What the hell have you done to me?” She holds her palms up defensively. “Hey, don’t blame me. I’ve gone eighteen years swearing off boyfriends and then you show up out of the blue with your vulgar mouth and terribly awkward first kisses and now look at me. I’m a hypocrite.” “I don’t even know your phone number,” I say. “I don’t even know your birthday,” she says. “You’re the worst girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Daniel?” I raise an eyebrow to match his expression. “Holder?” “What are you up to?” “I do not know what you are talking about,” I reply innocently. “You do know what I am talking about because when you are lying, you do not use contractions when you speak.” I ponder his observation for a few seconds. Is that true? Shit. It’s true.

“She fist bumped me,” I say, pointing at Six. “It’s not my fault. She hates purses and she fist bumped me, then she made me push her on the damn merry-go-round. After that, she demanded to see where I had sex in the park, then she forced me to sneak into my own bedroom. She’s weird and half the time I can’t keep up with her, but she thinks I’m funny as hell. And Chunk asked me this morning if I wanted to love her someday, and I realized I’ve never hoped I could love someone more than I want to love her. So every single one of you who has an issue with us dating is going to have to get over it because . . .” I pause and turn toward Six. “Because you fist bumped me and I could care less who knows we’re together. I’m not going anywhere and I don’t want to go anywhere so stop thinking I’m into you because I’m not supposed to be into you.” I lift my hands and tilt her face toward mine. “I’m into you because you’re awesome. And because you let me accidentally touch your boob.”

She’s smiling wider than I’ve ever seen her smile. “Daniel Wesley, where’d you learn those smooth moves?” “Not moves, Six. Charisma.”

“You talk to him about the fact that we haven’t had sex?” Six says, completely embarrassed. My father shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t have to. I know because every night he comes home he goes straight to his bedroom and takes a thirty-minute shower. I was eighteen once.” Six covers her face with her hands. “Oh, my God.” She peeks through her hands at my dad. “I guess I know who Daniel gets his personality from.” My father nods. “Tell me about it. His mother is terribly inappropriate.”

“Why would long showers embarrass you?” Chunk says to me, taking a seat across from Six. “I would think wanting to be clean is a good thing.” She picks up a slice of pizza and begins to take a bite, but then her eyes squeeze shut and she drops the pizza onto her plate. By the look on her face, the meaning behind the long showers has just hit her. “Oh, gross. Gross!” she says, shaking her head.

I didn’t know hearts could literally ache like this. It hurts so much I want to reach inside and rip it out of my chest so I’ll never feel this again.

“I love you, Daniel Wesley,” she whispers. “I love you Seven Marie Six Cinderella Jacobs.” She laughs. “Thank you for not turning out to be an asshole.” “Thank you for never asking me to change.”