Cinderella Complex Read Online Free Page A

old Dukes of Hazzard television show my dad loved so much.
    As he backed out of the driveway, he honked and waved.
    ****
    â€œYou still ticked at me?” Jackson sped down the highway toward Grandma’s.
    â€œWouldn’t you be?” I swiped a strand of hair behind my ear, staring at the cornstalks. “Believe it or not, the world doesn’t revolve around you and Riley.”
    He flashed me a smile, taking the curves at white-knuckle speed. I gripped the door and closed my eyes, wondering how I’d look splattered on the road.
    â€œThe way I see it, you owe me a thank you.” He slammed on the brakes at a stop sign. My seatbelt tightened, jerking me against the seat.
    Eyes narrowed, I turned to him. “Have you gone out of your flipping mind?”
    â€œWhat? If it wasn’t for me forgetting you, Connor wouldn’t have given you a ride home. Not that I don’t think he’s a butthead, but still.”
    â€œYou are un-flippin-believable.” I threw my hands in the air. “Mom must’ve boinked some random guy because there’s no way we’re related.”
    He chuckled, socking me in the thigh. “Where do you think she got the idea to call me Jackson? Named me after my real dad.”
    More like Mom had been madly in love with Jackson Logan, a huge soap star when she was younger. My lips twitched. He might be an idiot, but he knew how to make me laugh. “You’re not off the hook, but yes, I did enjoy Connor bringing me home. And he’s coming over after school tomorrow.”
    â€œCool, I can go straight over to Riley’s without you tagging along.”
    Jackson turned down a dirt road. I rolled up my window to keep the dust from swirling in. Trees lined either side of the street, their great canopies like umbrellas blocking out the sky. Clunk-clunk. The car hit a pothole. We veered sideways, as he regained control.
    â€œMight want to slow down before the bottom end drops out on us.” I closed my eyes and uttered a silent prayer.
    â€œYour bottom end or my bottom end?”
    To this day, I’ll never know how he passed driver’s training. Maybe he’d had an affair with old wart-lipped McGee, the instructor. I mean, grannys had needs too, right? Okay, better not think on it anymore. Total ick factor. But it was the only explanation that made sense.
    After two miles on the bone-jarring road, we reached the long, winding driveway leading to Grandma’s farm. I spotted the large white house with the wrap-around porch. We joined several other cars parked in the drive.
    The porch swing rocked back and forth beneath the gusts of wind. The scent of flowers and baked goods floated in the air as we climbed from the car. From the familiar shutters and stained-glass windows, to the flower gardens and the ancient oaks and maples I used to climb as a kid, my grandma’s house welcomed us as if we’d never grown up and left it behind.
    Musical voices floated from the opened windows. We followed the stone path to the wooden bridge leading to the front door.
    â€œI sure hope this doesn’t last all night,” Jackson muttered beside me. “I’ve got fifty calc problems to do.”
    I frowned, elbowing him in the ribs. “Don’t you dare ruin Grandma’s night.”
    â€œOw.” He rubbed his chest. “Violent much?”
    The door swung open. Grandma stepped forward and clutched us to her chest. The smell of her rose perfume made me smile. It was so familiar and calming. So Grandma. She held us at arm’s length to look us over.
    â€œWell aren’t you two my most precious grandchildren?” Her ivory hair was knotted at the top of her head. Her blue floral dress was long and flowy on her petite frame. A pair of homemade bead earrings hung on her lobes, her skin was wrinkled like wadded-up paper, but she still looked beautiful to me.
    â€œWe’re your only grandchildren.” Jackson