[A young adult retelling of Cinderella - LGBT]
What begins as a failed date in a tea shop leads Jay to find his fairy Godmother, the one who could make love finally come his way.
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Jay struggles with being out of the closet to his friends but getti...
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Cindy teleported me home. Both I and my bike are whole, and there is no glitter anywhere this time.
In my bed, Cindy does away with the double of me that was there for the night. Even as I start drifting to sleep, all I can think of is my bike and the five blocks I'll travel with it tomorrow as soon as the sun is out. I can imagine biking against the cool morning air, towards the 21st street.
I feel a mix of emotions:
a kind of awe feeling for finally getting what has been going on during all this time;
some surprise — most of it because I can't imagine how it took me all this to understand;
and excitement for might happen now.
I wish I didn't also feel hurt because of Mara. Now everything seems so obvious, but I think I deserve an apology from her. I'm hoping she'll come to me and show me that we're still are worth it.
I'm unable to pin point exactly when my thoughts turn into dreams and pull me to sleep.
I wake too early in the morning, feeling renewed. And I don't just mean it physically. It almost feels as if I'm a new person.
I have to wait until it's 10 am to bike to his house. I arrive in front of his door fifteen minutes later.
I ring two times and wait; glad it's not raining this time. It's even a bit hot for an autumn day.
The door opens, and Rafael catches me in surprise as I'm straightening the collar of my T-shirt. I attempt a smile, but he doesn't smile back to me.
I didn't expect him to be the one to open the door. Last night when I fantasized about this, it was his mother opening the door. She would tell me Rafael was sleeping, but not send me on my way home.
I'd be invited in, and I would follow her to the living room, where I'd sit awkwardly. That's where I'd wait for Rafael.
Occasionally, I would exchange glances with his father, who would be trying to catch up on another game that he'd have missed the day before. Just like the last time.
This fantasy gave me some sense of security last night. But it doesn't seem like I'll have to go through any of this.
Rafael looks tired as he stands at the door spot. He doesn't say anything for a moment.
"You weren't there last night when I came back with the cakes," he says, subtly showing that he's not happy with it.
"Sorry. I—" I trail off.
"Jord, right?" he says.
"Jord. . ." I echo, feeling stupid because everything seems so obvious now. "I guess you won't ask me to get inside."
He shrugs. "Why would I?"
"I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me you were the one who wrote me the poem?"
