The Time It Takes To Fall

As Classy as it Gets

USA, 2019 A.D.

A ping sounded from Cinder's back pocket, eliciting a groan from her. It was the third text that she had gotten that morning, and she knew that this one would, just like the other two, not be from Iko.

Cinder pulled out her phone, trying not to look at the message as she muted the device. Unfortunately, she caught a glimpse of the cautionary words, and Pearl's urgings for her to go to Seattle. But Cinder didn't want to go to Seattle— especially not today. Not when she had a date with Kai.

She was still trying to wrap her mind around the idea of going on a date with Kai Prince. Did he like her? Thorne had said as much, but he generally assumed that everyone liked everyone, much as he liked every semi-attractive woman who glanced his direction. But Cinder didn't think that way.

Her thought process had switched between believing Kai to be a jerk or an idiot— though neither made sense. The way he had spoken to her—with the manners that of a British boarding school boy— made it impossible for Cinder to imagine him as anything less than a proper gentleman. And the intellect held within his words prompted her to presume him to be a man of great acuity.

But then the question still stood: why had he asked her out?

Cinder's phone began to buzz from her back pocket, vibrating her backside. She rolled her eyes violently, and pulled out her device, praying to all the gods in the sky for a patience unknown to her being.

She didn't need the extra allowance of patience, however, because when she pulled out her phone, it wasn't Pearl's name that lit up the screen, but Iko's.

Surprise bloomed within her— Iko had never once called her through all their years of friendship. The few times they had talked on the phone had been Cinder's doing. But there was always a first time for everything.

"Hey," Cinder answered a grin lighting up her face. She was abundantly relieved that it was her best friend on the phone and not her sister.

Her joy must have shown in her voice, because Iko laughed a little as she spoke. "Someone's excited for tonight, now aren't they?"

Cinder scoffed, "No, I'm happy that you're not my sister calling." Cinder walked into her cramped bedroom and flopped back onto her bed. She always had Saturday's off, due to the fact that Thorne thought that weekends should never be worked. Normally it agitated her— but today, she was grateful. "And don't talk like that; it's weird."

"Your mom's weird," Iko muttered, and Cinder rolled her eyes.

"My mother is probably dead or something, and my adoptive mother is more psycho than weird." Cinder deadpanned, kicking her socked feet up above her head. Her socks were dark green and unbelievable warm, despite their years of use.

Iko huffed, clearly exasperated. Cinder grinned. "So do you know what you're gonna wear tonight?" Iko asked, moving past the point of bitter delusion.

Dropping her feet back to the ground, Cinder propelled herself from the bed. Her features were a mixture of agitation and panic, though those particular emotions were not conveyed through her tone. "Probably the same as usual," Cinder said, voice a dry monotone.

A dramatic breathy scream emanated from the other end, causing Cinder to nearly drop the phone. She let out a few of her most choice curse words, then held the device back up to her ear, praying for no more loud surprises.

"Iko-" Cinder started, a little fed up. She was already nervous enough about tonight without having to worry about something as trivial as clothing.

But her fashion-loving friend would not allow her to win this one. "Cinder, so help me. You cannot wear a tank-top and cargo pants— both of which are extremely greasy and smell like the bottom of Thorne's toilet. That is just inappropriate on too many levels and a major embarrassment to me."