Cinderella's Ghost

Chapter 9: At Clar's

Chapter 9

This is it. There is no turning back.

Well, there obviously was, but I wasn't going to allow anything to bring me through that train of thought. I'd slap myself stupid first. What I did allow myself to feel, though, were the nervousness, the guilt and a spark of excitement as I sat on the train, completely forgetting the mistakes I'd probably made in the test earlier. Paranoid, I had checked my surroundings multiple times before boarding the train – even hissing at Jarell who stood beside me, all nonchalant, when I had asked him to help me out.

"Stupid housefly," I'd whispered venomously.

He'd opened his mouth to say something equally insulting, but a look of defeat crossed his features when he realised that he hadn't thought of a new nickname for me just yet. I had shaken my head in sympathy then returned to looking around my surroundings, before running to the train. It was only when the door closed did I relax.

"You don't look so good," he said a few minutes after the train left the first station.

I glared at Jarell, who was standing in front of me, looking proud of himself. A ghost needed neither core muscles nor handrails to stay balanced on the moving vehicle. Much to his delight, he'd just found another perk of being half-dead.

"Stop thinking whatever you're thinking."

I quickly typed a reply on my phone. Easier said than done. Jarell moved to get a better view. When the man beside me stood up from his seat to alight, Jarell sat. I'd long since lost my patience and had told him he had my permission to sit anywhere, except my bed, he'd like to until forever.

"Doesn't this feel like our positions have reciprocated?"

He needn't say anymore, because I understood. My thoughts exactly, I typed. But don't get cocky.

"Whatever. You'll thank me by the end of today anyway, like how I thanked you that day."

I crossed my arms silently. It felt weird to be talking to him without facing him, but I knew he understood what I was trying to say.

At the corner of my eye, Jarell clapped his hands together soundlessly. "Now then, I shall start thinking up of several nicknames for you. Be sure to keep your expression in check or the old lady sitting opposite you will think you're constipated."

I looked at the woman in front of me who was watching the passing scenery behind me. Oh, God, I wanted to strangle Jarell so badly right now. You are so dead.

"Any pun intended? Because that would be the funniest joke you've made so far."

I gave a soft growl. The old lady made eye contact with me briefly before continuing on with looking out.

"Now, let's see... how about feral tiger? Wait, no, that makes you sound so much better than what you call me. Let's see... an insect. Cockroach!" The thought of it made me shiver. "No, no... although I do see a little bit of resemblance, you don't fit that name." I almost sighed in relief. "Am I really not allowed to say any names in relation to Cinderella? Because I think Gus suits you; you eat a lot." I placed my hand on my right thigh and clenched it into a fist. Jarell chuckled.

So this torture went on for the next hour or so. I'd very nearly been called so many things. After Gus, I'd almost been Glass, Slipper, Pumpkin, Pumpkin Seed, Tomato, Pear, Apple... I had no idea what came to him to start trying to link me with fruits, but it was better than linking me with Cinderella, although I did find myself calmer than before about this link with the fairy tale princess; as long as it was indirectly linked, I was fine. At the end of it though, Jarell had yet to think of something he was happy with.