The Forgotten Fairytales Read Online Free Page A

My legs caved as if made of jelly. His lips twitched into a crooked grin, and the smell of soap, mint, tobacco, and whisky drifted into my senses.
    I detached myself from his grasp and took a few steps back.
    “I w-w-wasn’t sure you’d make it,” Pearl whispered to him.
    “Al said you passed out after the sun came up,” James said. Finn’s eyes flashed to mine; twinkling with secrets.
    Danielle chuckled nervously. “He wasn’t drinking. We have a strict No Underage Drinking policy here. Everyone obeys.”
    I realized Danielle had been talking to me. Like I cared if he drank. Finn rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his thick black hair. Water droplets sprayed everywhere. Beside Danielle, Pearl’s eyes held mine for a moment, silently pleading me to stay quiet. An hour and I’d already witnessed something I shouldn’t have. Fan-frickin-tastic.
    James laughed under his breath. Danielle’s elbow casually jabbed into his side, but no one besides me seemed to notice.
    “W-we should probably g-get to class.” Everyone’s attention turned to Pearl, whose voice was shaking and meek. A blush rushed into her pale cheeks, brightening her complexion. Finn gave her a pathetic half-smile, which only made her cheeks burn more. It was then I noticed the bracelet around her wrist said Anything for love. Intense much?

 
    T he day I turned six, I decided to become a ballerina. Of course, Dad had other plans, which included hand-to-hand combat instead of Swan Lake. His theory? Ballet couldn’t defend me from creeptastic guys and rapists. Dad always knew what to say to ease my troubled mind. Because, you know, all six-year-old girls worry about attacks by strangers and not what their doll is going to wear to a make-believe picnic.
    In the beginning I complained. Until Pirates of the Caribbean hit theatres and I decided being a pirate was way cooler than being a prima ballerina. Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom were pirates and hot. How would I ever impress them if I couldn’t fight alongside them like Elizabeth Swan? So I learned how to sword fight and use a bow and arrow.
    While other girls played with dolls, I studied the art of decapitation.
    After constant training, Dad assumed I’d be prepared for anything.
    Maybe if my school was on the Black Pearl, and not in a castle with freaks.
    During Dining Etiquette, Professor Peach tied my shoulders to the chair with the thickest rope I’d ever seen to keep my back straight. With the exception of two girls, everyone ate their meals without a hitch. Me? Not so much. “A lady’s posture says a lot about her.” Professor Peach’s blonde ringlets were bigger than the state of Texas. “And yours, Miss Hart, is abysmal.” The lush material of her poufy tangerine gown slapped me in the face as she brushed past, tsking under her breath. What I wouldn’t give to stab her with a knife.
    The pepper was out of reach. I stretched forward, accidentally knocking over the salt, which fell against a wine glass of sparkling grape juice, which spilled on the crisp white tablecloth and rolled onto the ground and shattered. Great. Professor Peach stood over me, a scowl fixed over her coral lips.
    People stared at me nonstop, whispering and giggling, especially commenting on the dried dirt on my clothes. I’d tried using water and soap in the bathroom to clean it off, but it didn’t work too well on my jeans. By the time lunch came around I was on overload.
    Chandeliers hung from the ceiling in the cafeteria, filling the room with a warm glow. Everyone sat as they were before, grouped in ridiculous categories. There’s no way real people were fictional characters. Stories were kept in books.
    Sitting at a table with her freaky royal posse, Danielle waved at me. Her smile was so white and bright a person could go blind. I pretended not to see her. Near the lunch line was a pair of French doors leading outside. Freedom. I hurried toward them, but not before almost tripping over a stupid Cairn