How Zoe Made Her Dreams (Mostly) Come Tr - By Sarah Strohmeyer Page 0,42

night with Marcus had worked its magic, because, so far, I’d never seen RJ so interested in another person . . . besides himself.

“Hey,” I said, hoping to grab Jess for a minute so I could explain why I was Cinderella.

Jess took one look at me all dressed up and opened her mouth in shock. “What’s this about?”

“Long story,” I said. “I’ll go into it later. In the meantime don’t believe any of the rumors. They’re all lies.” I tried communicating on our nonverbal level by the usual lifting of the eyebrows, rolling of the eyeballs, etcetera, but Jess only said, “It’s okay. I’m happy for you. You look really good, Zoe.”

No kidding. She was about to cry.

I took her aside. “Listen, you blond bubblehead of a cousin, this is only temporary. Adele got demoted today, and the Queen is making me fill in until she picks a permanent replacement. You should totally apply because . . .”

Adele was sauntering down the hall, tiara in hand. “Hey, Jess. Look what your roommate got for ratting out you and Marcus to the Queen.”

Jess turned to me, aghast. “You told her?”

“No. Of course, not.”

“Then quit running your mouth, Adele.” Jess made the most of her five-feet-four inches, stepping between me and my accuser. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, little Jess. Trust me, your cousin is a backstabber who doesn’t give a damn about you.” Adele pushed herself between us and stuck the tiara into my wig. “Here. You finally got what you wanted.”

RJ the senior statesman tried to take control. “Listen, people, this happens every summer. The Queen does a staff reshuffling, and egos get bruised, and suddenly the accusations start flying. Why don’t we all take a deep . . .”

“Screw you, hipster!” Adele barked. “I’m so sick of you always telling us what to do. You’re nothing but a freaking babysitter.”

Jess gasped and patted RJ’s arm. “That’s not true,” she gushed, as if any of us really thought he was.

Karl, his face red and sweaty, was coming down the hall in his wolf costume, carrying his smelly head. He took one look at the fracas and spun right around, heading in the opposite direction.

“RJ does have a point,” I said, attempting to appeal to Adele’s questionable sense of reason. “This is just an Ordinary Cast—”

Adele slapped her hand over my mouth. “Shut up and listen. You’ll be Cinderella, and you’ll get the twenty-five thousand dollars that should be mine. But this is not the end, Kiefer. You’re going to pay for messing with me.”

Enough! I’d had it with this high school melodrama. Reaching into the pocket of my dress, I found the Queen’s letter to Adele that she’d requested I deliver earlier and stuffed it down the front of her hot-pink spandex tank. “Here, liar. You’d better read this before you go making a fool of yourself.”

The first buzzer rang. Our cue to get in place.

RJ slipped his arm around my waist. “Come on, Zoe. I’ll show you where to go. Let’s get away from the crazy girl.”

We got to the top of the stairs, where Simone was waiting impatiently. “Wait. What’s she doing here? Where’s Adele?”

RJ said, “Just go, Zoe. I’ll fill in Simone.”

I descended the stairs and walked onto the stage, where a huge crowd of eager faces awaited. Toddlers sat on their fathers’ shoulders. Mothers held cameras poised to click and shoot. These good people trusted us to put on a terrific show, one worth the steep admission fee and the long, hot drive down the Garden State, and I was about to ruin their expensive trip with one disastrous performance.

“Wave!” Valerie in her rose-colored Sleeping Beauty gown was waving madly, first with her right arm, then her left.

I waved.

“Twirl!” ordered Laura, dressed as Snow White with her big, puffy red-and-white-striped sleeves. “Hold out your petticoat. Don’t forget to curtsy! That’s what Cinderella does.”

Could the crowd hear them? I hoped not as I tried to coordinate waving with twirling and holding out my petticoat. Valerie and Laura were just standing there waving and blowing kisses while I was like some messed-up toy monkey on meth, twirling and waving and dipping crazily off to the side. I was so dizzy that, once, my foot slipped and I nearly pitched into a couple of kids.

Ian rode up on his horse and, at the sight of me bobbing about, quickly dismounted, handed the reins to a troll, and took the steps of the palace