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The Cinderella Deception

Novel By: teindre

~~Completed~~ Pretty, hardworking, good-natured Juliette Harving has earned herself a title: Cinderella.

Okay, not really. She doesn’t have an evil stepmom, and she hates mice. But she certainly does have a lot to handle: Chores, babysitting her two younger siblings, an endless amount of homework, with hardly any time for herself…she definitely is your modern-day Cinderella.

Grady Sullivan is absolutely no Prince Charming, with his bad-boy looks, killer smile, and his confident, devil-may-care attitude. But when he finds Juliette’s journal – quite by accident – he’s so intrigued by it that he takes it upon himself to get to know her better.

But Juliette’s no sweet, naïve Princess. She knows Grady’s bad reputation, and is adamant not to have anything to do with him. All she wants is her journal back.

Well, two can play at that game. And Grady had better be careful, because this Cinderella has quite a few tricks up her sleeve, and when all is over, he’ll find himself the victim of the Cinderella deception. View table of contents...


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Submitted:Dec 2, 2011    Reads: 753    Comments: 52    Likes: 9   

Entry #65: Cinderella made Him fall for her. At first sight.

~ The Cinderella Deception by Juliette Harving

I'm so stunned I simply sit there, staring agape at the boy. W-why did he call me Cinderella?

"I'm nothing like Cinderella!" I blurt, finally finding something decent to say at last. "Why on earth would you call me that?"

His lips curve up into a mocking smirk. "That was exactly what I was going to ask you."

"You read my journal?" I hiss, but inside I'm completely horrified. If he read it…I don't know what I'd do! If he read it, it's as good as him knowing me inside out! And this is Grady I'm talking about here.

His dark eyes run survey me intently for a while, taking in my flushed cheeks and frightened expression. Finally, he answers my question.


I visibly heave a sigh of relief. Thank God. "Now, can I have my journal back please?"

Grady reaches into his leather jacket pocket, and fishes out my book. He kept it in his jacket? Why? I thought he'd probably chuck it in the depths of his bag or something. I'm amazed to see it still in pretty pristine and good condition.

I reach out a hand for it. Just when I think he's going to give it back to me, his lips curve into that mocking smirk again.



Every single second that Grady has my journal is an increased temptation for him to read it.

Despite my insistent pleas for him to return me my journal, he's completely ignored me. In fact, I'm pretty certain he actually fell asleep halfway through detention. Meaning he didn't hear me at all.

I particularly blame him for landing me in detention, even if it was indirectly so. After all, if I hadn't run after him for my journal, I wouldn't have interrupted the detention class, and Mr Richards wouldn't have given me the bloody pink slip.

His fault. It's all Grady Sullivan's fault.

After detention ends, I follow him out into the parking lot. "Grady. Come on, I really want that book back."

When he still ignores me, I decide to use physical contact. "GRADY." I say, forcefully, catching hold of his wrist and ignoring the million tingles in the depths of my stomach. What the hell is that about anyway?

Finally, he turns, his dark eyes darkening even further as he stares at me. "Look, you want your journal back?"

I nod, eagerly. Finally.

"Then let's make a deal."

Knowing Grady, it can't be anything good. But I'm too glad to get my book back, and I'd really agree to anything he says. "Really? I'll do anything if you'll give me my book back."

He raises an eyebrow, one side of his lips curving up. "Well, technically, you only need to do one thing. You do anything I tell you to do."

Anything he tells me to do. Well, it can't be that bad. He'd probably want answers to his homework or whatever. "Okay, then." I smile, and reach out my hand for the book. "Now can I have my book back?"

Now, his lips stretch into his full, signature smirk. "No, Harving, you only get it back when you do everything I tell you to do. And the first thing is," He neatly slips my Math book out of my arms. "I need your brains."

Without waiting for my reply, he slips into his car and drives off, sending a cloud of dust in my direction.

What. Just. Happened? I stare after his car, angrily. I totally got played! Urgh. I knew it was just too good to be true. How could that jerk do this to me? I need that journal back.

Breathe in, Juliette. It's no use to get so worked up over this. Think of peace, think of tranquillity…

"Jules!" Someone grasps me by the arm, and I realise it's Callie. "Are you alright? What happened? I was waiting about for you in school the whole time. What were you doing talking to Grady Sullivan? Did he do anything to you?"

"What is this, Cal, twenty questions?" I snap, then immediately feel guilty as I see her eyes widen at my harsh tone. I didn't mean to snap, but Grady has gotten me in a foul mood. "I'm sorry," I say, gently this time. "It's just…urgh!"

I throw my hands up in frustration, and she takes one step back. I'm seldom ever this exasperated. Most of the time, I have the utmost amount of patience, but when dealing with Grady, I cannot keep calm for more than one minute.

"What happened?" She asks, simply.

I relate to her the day's events, and her eyes grow wide.

"My goodness!" She says, at last. "Did you really bug Grady like that? I'm surprised he even let you!"

"Why wouldn't he? He has my journal! I deserve the right to bug him till he returns me the book!"

"Jules," She states, calmly. "I know you think he's an asshole and all, and yes, you're right - he is. But this kind of behaviour is expected of Grady Sullivan. As a matter of fact, I do think he went really lenient on you this time. Last year, some senior stomped all over his bag on purpose, and Grady punched him till he was black and blue. And remember Sadie Yates? How she accidentally scratched his car with her side-view mirror? He actually crashed into her car on purpose the very next day."

I blink. What's her point anyway? "So?"

Callie sighs and shakes her blond head at me. "I'm just saying that you're really lucky to have come off in one shape after arguing with Grady. That's all. And if you're wise enough, please stop antagonising the boy. No one messes with Grady Sullivan and gets away with it."

Even though I nod, I roll my eyes inwardly at her warnings. Who cares about what Grady Sullivan does? And why shouldn't I mess with him? He's got my journal, I need to get it back at the first opportunity possible and that's all that matters.


I'm putting Jared to bed when the first call from Grady comes, although I don't actually know it's Grady until I pick up the phone.

"I swear, Jared, if you don't go to bed this instant, I will…" I trail off. I almost want to end off with the words 'kill you', but I don't think that's very big-sisterly of me. I mean, I'm supposed to be setting a good example for my siblings and all that nonsense.

"You will?" He echoes; a cheeky smirk on his face. I swear, that boy sometimes gets the better of me, and don't I hate it!

"I will…" I think hard for another solution, and finally land on one. "…I will tickle you to death." And without further ado, I immediately sweep in and tickle his sides.

Even though Jared acts like a tough seven-year old, he's deathly afraid of tickles. He starts giggling maniacally, hysterically, and I grin widely.

"Jules!" Laugh. "S-stop! Stop it!" Laugh. "Okay!" Laugh. "I'll go to bed." Laugh, laugh, laugh.

Satisfied, I pull away and plant a kiss on his forehead gently. "That's my boy!"

"Jules!" He groans, and his face flushed bright pink, and pulls the blanket over his head. He's always so embarrassed of any outward displays of affection, but he does love it, bless him.

"Sweet dreams, cutie."

"Night, Jules."

Josie's already been to bed almost an hour ago. I decide to check on her again, but before I can head to her room, my cell-phone rings loudly. I rush into my room to answer before Josie can wake up.

An unfamiliar number flashes on the screen of my phone, and I pick the call up hesitantly. "Hello?"

"Harving," A deep voice says. "Get your ass to 17th Boulevard Street now. I'm too shagged to drive…"

"Wait." I cut him off, feeling very much annoyed at this guy's demanding tone. He didn't even say 'hello'! "Who the fuck are you and why should I do what you say?"

Usually, I'm not a very vulgar person, but rude people just annoy the hell out of me.

"Seriously? It's Grady, damn it."

Oh, now it all makes sense. The rude behaviour, the arrogant voice…it's all Grady. But how did he even get my number?

I'm about to ask me this, when he cuts me off. "So shut up and get here. My head's killing me."

Now I'm boiling. "So? How does that even concern me?" I hiss, furiously, making sure to keep my voice down low so I don't wake the sleeping kids. "You get yourself home, Grady, and how did you even get my number? You…"

"If you don't want me to puke all over your bloody journal, you'd better fucking get your ass here immediately." He snaps, and hangs up the phone on me.

"Urgh!" I throw my cell down on my bed. Can you believe this guy? Who does he think he is, bossing and ordering me around like that? How dare he?!

Journal, Juliette. Think of your journal.

Seething, I grab my car keys and drive to 17th Boulevard Street. When I get there, there's a party in full swing, with music thumping loudly from the house.

I park my car, and get out to find Grady. I don't know a single person, so I don't think it's a school party. Even if it were, Callie would have definitely been invited to it, and I haven't heard anything from her.

There are tons of drunk couples making out, drunk girls dancing on top of a table, and drunk guys trying to get those girls to have sex with them. A couple of guys wolf-whistle as I walk through the house, but I ignore them.

I finally locate Grady. Actually, I only see the top of his head, because the rest of his body is surrounded by desperate and slutty girls. Not wanting to squeeze my way through a pile of sweaty, grinding bodies, I just stand there, tapping my foot loudly against the parquet.

At last, Grady sees me. He excuses himself and staggers over to me.

"Harving," He greets, trying to maintain his cool, collected composure, but utterly failing.

I can only stare at him in disgust. Great. It's barely eleven thirty, and he's already drunk as hell. What kind of a bad boy is he? Can't even hold his liquor properly!

"Let's go." I say, as coldly as I can muster, and spin on my heel to leave.

Grady sways drunkenly after me, and when we get to the car, he slumps on the passenger seat.

"Where do you live?" I ask.

"Grange Avenue. Number 12." He mutters. "Would you fucking stop yelling?"

I roll my eyes. The things drunk people say and do. I put the car on drive and pull out of the parking spot. Fifteen minutes later, I pull into his driveway, and open the car door nearest to him.

"Now get out."

Without a word, he stumbles out of the car and practically staggers to his doorstep. I can't believe this guy. Somehow or other, I feel my maternal instincts kick in, and before I know it, I'm holding him by the waist, and guiding him towards the door.

I patiently wait for him to unlock his door, and when he's opened it, he turns to face me.

And just as I think he's going to say thanks, or something to that effect, he opens his mouth and spills the contents of his stomach all over my Jimmy Choo's.


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