"Oh, yeah, what's that?" he asked, dancing toward her and slipping his arm around her waist.

"They found a cure for diabetes and the benefit's off?" Ever since we moved to New York,

Mara's been dragging my dad to all these fund-raisers. In theory, she hopes to cure every scourge

that threatens the planet. In fact, she just wants to show off her new man on the charity circuit.

"Lucy seems to be under the impression it's my fault her room is such a mess," Mara said.

"That is so not true!" I said. "I just said I couldn't

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put my clothes away until I had some furniture to put them away in."

"And then she took a very snotty tone that I did not appreciate," Mara continued, ignoring me.

"Oh my god, it's like unless I'm kowtowing to you every second I'm taking a snotty tone," I said.

I could feel tears brewing and I choked them back.

"Hey, hey!" said my dad, who wasn't smiling anymore. "I just got home. I don't want all this fighting." He put his arm around Mara. "Lucy, I'd like you to apologize to Mara, and I want this room straightened up."

"I'm going to straighten it up. I'll straighten it up tomorrow."

"No," said my dad, "you'll straighten it up tonight."

"Dad, I'm supposed to go to a basketball game tonight."

I was sure I could see my dad hesitating, but then he said, "I'm sorry, but you're not going out

tonight."

"WHAT?!" It almost wasn't a word, just a strangled yelp.

"We want this room cleaned up, and we want it cleaned up tonight." The way my dad said "we"

as they stood next to each other, his arm around Mara's waist, only highlighted how the two of

them comprised a perfectly coordinated team. I suddenly felt very conscious of being the only

person on my side of the room.

"Why can't I just clean it up tomorrow? If you let

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me go to the game, I promise I'll get up early and clean everything." I was fighting back panic.

My dad was about to relent, I could tell. He'd never been one of those parents who cared what

my room looked like, and I knew he wouldn't mind if I cleaned up in the morning. But just as he

opened his mouth to say something, Mara spoke.

"Lucy, your father and I said tonight, and we mean tonight," she said, turning on one heel and

heading upstairs. My dad took a step toward me just as Mara said, "Doug, we're going to be

late."

He hesitated a second and then said, "I'll see you in the morning, Goose."

"What?" I said, and I was crying for real now. "Are you saying this conversation is over?"

"There's no conversation," he said. "We asked you to do something and we want you do to it."

The way he repeated we almost took my breath away.

"And that's all you have to say?" I asked finally.

"Lucy, I'm sorry," he said. "But you need to do what you're told." Then he, too, turned around and headed up the stairs.

Trying to stop crying, I picked up my cell and dialed Connor's number.

"Yo, what's up? It's Connor. You know what to do."

"Um, hey, Connor, I--" a sob almost escaped, and I took a deep breath. "I can't come to the game tonight.

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I--this whole thing happened at home, and I'm grounded. I'm really sorry. So, good luck and ...

have fun at the party." The last part of my message nearly pushed me over the edge. I hit end call

as quickly as I could. Then I dialed Jessica's number.

"It's Jessica. Leave me a message and I'll call you back."

"Hi. It's me. My stepmother is trying to win some kind of bitch-of-the-year award, and I'm

grounded tonight. So have fun for both of us."

After I hung up I sat staring at my cell for a long minute, wondering what happens if Cinderella

never makes it to the ball. Does Prince Charming spend the night pining away for her, crying

into his royal beer? Or does he just meet someone else, some girl who doesn't have a wicked,

stepdaughter-grounding stepmother?

Some girl who no longer doesn't "go out with high school guys"?

The answer was too obvious. I turned my phone off and shoved it into my bag. That way I

wouldn't have to listen to it not ringing all night long.

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Chapter Eleven

I'd forced myself not to check my messages before I went to bed, knowing how bad I'd feel if

Connor hadn't called. But the first thing I did when I woke up in my immaculate room was check

voice mail.

Two messages. My hands shook so much I could hardly manage to dial in for them.

"Hey, Red." I let out a tiny, involuntary scream. "Do you need me to take out a hit on one of your family members? 'Cause I'll do it." Just the sound of his voice made last night's fight with my

dad seem like a bad dream. "You better not be grounded all weekend, Red. I'm picking you up at

seven on Saturday and taking you out for dinner."

I played the message three more times before saving it. The second call was from Jessica. "Can I

just say that your stepmother totally gets my vote for bitch-of-the-year?

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Call me when you wake up. We're going shopping tomorrow." I played that message again, too.

Guess what, Mara, not everyone takes your side, you dumb cow.

I'd barely hung up the phone when it rang. "Hello?"

"We'll be at your house in twenty minutes," said Jessica. "We're going to Miracle Mile."

"Connor's taking me out to dinner tonight," I said.

Jessica screamed. "Oh my god! He loves you."

I couldn't think of what to say to that, so I just screamed. Then I remembered something.

"Jessica, I don't have anything to wear."

"Okay, do not panic," said Jessica. "They don't call it Miracle Mile for nothing."

Madison's mom dropped us off at Bistro des Filles for lunch, where Madison, after telling us

how many millions of grams of fat were in each of the entrées we'd ordered, just got a glass of

water. Then she ate about two-thirds of Jessica's Croque Monsieur before Jessica threatened to

stab her with a fork if she didn't get her own sandwich.

By four o'clock, despite my duet of personal shoppers, I still didn't have anything to wear on my

date with Connor. Madison and Jessica dismissed everything I liked as boring, while everything

they wanted me to try on cost about a thousand times what I'd planned on spending. Finally,

since we were running out of time, we

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agreed to split up. Madison went to Chanel to get a mascara, while Jessica and I headed to Ralph

Lauren to look for a dress for me.

As soon as we walked in the door, I saw Jessica notice a blue linen tank top and hesitate for a

second before continuing past the rack.

"That's nice," I said. "You should try it on."

She shook her head. "We're here to find you a date-worthy dress."

But I nudged her toward the top. "Go for it," I said.

"Are you sure you don't mind waiting?" she asked. "I'll be really fast."

"I'm sure," I said. "Take your time." While Jessica went to look for a dressing room, I wandered around looking for something I could possibly wear on my date. But unless Connor was taking

me for a cruise on his yacht, there was nothing in Ralph Lauren that would be right. Finally I