Fighting Ever After (Ever After #3)

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Authors: Stephanie Hoffman McManus

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Fighting Ever After

 

Stephanie Hoffman McManus

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2015 by Stephanie
Hoffman McManus

All
rights reserved by the author, including the right to reproduce,

distribute
, or transmit in any form, by any
means.

This
book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations,
places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination
or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

 

 

For

Prince Charming . . .

Wherever he’s hiding

Prologue

 

I flipped my phone open
to check the time. It was almost four. Elaina should be here any minute.
Shit.
I had to adjust my jeans; I was already getting excited just thinking about
her. I hoped Mom had some stupid campaign function to plan, or charity board
meeting to be at. Not that I think charity is stupid. The women that run those
meetings with my mom and spend most of their time gossiping while they delegate
the real work to assistants and volunteers, who get treated like slaves, are
fucking stupid. If it means Elaina and I will be able to have our “tutoring
session” without my mother hovering, then they can gossip about whatever the
fuck they want all damn day. It was rare that we spent any of our sessions
actually working on my violin playing anymore. No, what we did was so much more
fun and satisfying.

I walked over to my
bookshelf and pulled out the copy of
The Sound and
The
Fury,
by Faulkner, that I hollowed out on the inside. I had to make sure my
stash wasn’t low. I have to hide them in there, because if my mom found rubbers
in my night stand, she would flip her shit and make my dad beat my ass.

I had got plenty, which
is a good thing because I swear Elaina has the stamina of a marathon runner and
it’s hard to keep up with her. I don’t mind trying though. My eye caught on the
little wrapped box sitting on top of the bookshelf. I nervously ran my fingers
over the paper and bow. I wrapped it myself. It wasn’t the best, but I hoped
she liked it. Her birthday wasn’t for a few weeks, but with elections right
around the corner, I didn’t know how much I’d see her. I had no doubt Mom would
have us traveling all over the damn state for Dad’s campaign. This state
representative office was just a stepping stone on his way to the senate. I
also had no doubt he’d be elected and eventually get there.

He’s a charmer and a
good looking guy – has that smile that makes you want to trust him, comes from
the right background, went to fucking Harvard and studied law. He says all the
right stuff and makes all the right promises. It’s such a crock of shit. My dad
is an asshole. My parents expect me to follow in his footsteps. They don’t care
what I want. In fact, I don’t think they’ve ever, not even once in my life,
asked me what I want. It’s all about them: their image, their name. Every
decision they make, from the clothes they were, the house we live in, the
people they associate with or don’t, the friends they allow me to have – it’s
all about power and feeling superior, what they can gain or who they can
control or who they can impress.

Elaina cares though.
She’s the only one who really does. My parents don’t allow me to attend school,
they hire private tutors, so the only people my age I get to hang out with, are
the pre-approved sons and daughters of their friends. Most of them are as
fake
as their parents and mine. It doesn’t bother me much
though, I only need Elaina. We talk about everything, real shit like what we
want to do with our futures. As soon as I graduate, we’re going to take off
together. I want to pursue my music. It’s the only thing that’s mine, the only
thing besides Elaina I’ve ever really wanted. It’s my escape from this life.
Every time Mom is bitching at me, or Dad is on my case, I can go to my room,
pick up my guitar and shut out everything else. I love the violin, okay, that’s
not true, I think it’s kind of lame for a dude, but I love that the violin
brought Elaina to me. I guess I do have one thing to thank my controlling
mother for. If she hadn’t forced it on me, I never would have met Elaina, but I
feel like I was born to play the guitar. I’ve never known peace like I feel
when I’ve got a guitar in my lap and my fingers are gliding over the strings.
Being with Elaina is about the only thing that comes close to touching that
feeling I get when I’m in my own little world, making the music I want,
expressing myself through those chords.

I’ve started writing
too. I haven’t shown anyone though. I don’t know if my songs are any good. They
probably need a lot of work, but I think I’m finally going to show Elaina the
song I wrote for her tonight when I give her the necklace. I hope she likes
them – the song and the necklace.

I checked my phone
again. It was four. She should be here by now. She’s always on time. My mother
is a stickler for punctuality. Even when she’s not here, I’m sure she has the
maids report to her what time Elaina and my other tutors arrive and leave
again. I wish I could text her, but she always says I can’t, that it would be
too easy to get caught. I grab my violin case and head down to the music room.
Maybe she’s waiting for me. Usually she texts me when she gets here. She says
that’s alright, but it’s the only time she ever texts me. Outside of our
sessions I can’t see or talk to her at all. It kills me, but I trust that she’s
right. I don’t want to get caught and have anyone come between us.

When I got to the bottom
of the staircase, I saw my mother was on her way out the door.

“Is Elaina here yet?” I
asked.

She paused and looked at
me with my violin case in hand. “Oh, did I not tell you? You won’t be having
violin lessons anymore,” she informed me like it was a trivial bit of
information that just slipped her mind, but to me it wasn’t trivial. It was my
whole fucking world, and she just turned it fucking upside down.

“What do you mean?” I
asked, trying not to give away how close I was to losing it.

“Exactly
what I said.
I’m
sure you understood
me,
I don’t think I could have
made it any clearer. You will no longer be receiving violin lessons.”

“Why?” I started to
panic. I didn’t think she had any idea about me and Elaina. If she did, she
wouldn’t be as calm as she was right now, but I couldn’t think of any other
reason for her to end my lessons.

“Hmm, I really meant to
tell you after your last lesson, it must have just slipped my mind, but Elaina
informed me weeks ago that she would be quitting. She didn’t want us to tell
you right away because she said she’d noticed you had a little crush on her and
was worried you wouldn’t take it well. She recently got engaged to her
boyfriend and now that she’s finished with college, they’ll be moving to be closer
to his family before the wedding. Your father and I decided that rather than
try to find another competent teacher, you’ve had lessons long enough that your
time would be better spent focusing on your studies. The SATs are right around
the corner, and even though they’re more of a formality, because you’re already
assured a spot at your father’s alma mater, low scores would reflect badly on
us.”

I heard her words, but
it was like they
  weren’t
registering. My mother looked
at her watch and then said something about running late and then she was out
the door. I just stood there like an idiot and everything crumbled around me as
realization finally began to sink in. Elaina wasn’t coming. She wasn’t ever
coming back.

She has a boyfriend.

They’re engaged.

She was marrying some
other asshole and she told my mother I have a fucking crush on her. A crush! Is
that what it was when I was inside of her and she said she loved me, just a
damn crush? She promised we were going to be together. How could she do this to
me?

I’m not sure how long I
stood there, but every second I grew angrier and angrier until finally I
couldn’t take it. I sprinted up the steps to my room, slamming the door behind
me. She was just a bitch, a lying, manipulative bitch. Just like my mother. She
fucking used me. She played me. She got off on making me fall in love with her.
I gave her fucking everything and it was all a joke. I threw my violin case
across the room. It slammed into the wall and then flung open. The instrument
and lyrics I’d planned to show Elaina spilled out onto the floor. I walked over
and picked them up, tearing them to pieces as I did. Then I grabbed the violin
by the neck and swung it at my dresser. It splintered and snapped, chipping off
a piece of my dresser as well. I didn’t give a shit. I just needed something to
make this stabbing pain in my chest stop.

I picked up the shreds
of paper and tossed them in my trash, and then I did what every teenage girl
does with pictures of her boyfriend when they break up. I found a lighter and
set them fucking ablaze. The words on those pages turned to ash, as did the
love I felt for Elaina. I told myself I should have known better. I’d thought
she was different, but she was no better than my mother and
her
stuck up friends and their stuck up daughters. They were all the same.
Every last one of them.

I felt something wet on
my cheeks and realized I was fucking crying. I angrily wiped at the tears. She
wasn’t worth it. No bitch was. All they did was use people. They get what they
want and then rip your fucking heart out. Lesson fucking learned. I wasn’t
going to let it happen again. I grabbed my guitar off its stand and did the
only thing I could to take my mind off the vice grip that was clamping down on
my heart. I started playing and let the words just come to me as I felt them. I
wrote my first breakup song, promising myself it would also be my last. I was
determined not give any girl the chance to make me feel that way again. So from
then on, I wouldn’t let any of them get close enough to. I would take what I
wanted and then take off before they could try to sink their claws into me.

At least that was the
way it worked until her.

I never fucking saw her
coming. She was like a damn meteor, burning bright and hot, crashing into me
and changing everything.

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