Chapter 3 Fairytale Resolution

Next two years

When I suddenly hear laughing around me, it makes me flinch and make me seek behind me to find the source of the sound. When I realize it's only Dean and Jess, the mist lifts, bringing with it a sigh of relief. They are my pals. Friends who, in contrast to the folks in my history, wouldn't injure me. Since they were in my life before the catastrophe destroyed the nicer aspects of me, they are the only friends I fully allow in.

I've known Jess since kindergarten, which makes her technically my closest friend even though we grew up to be complete opposites. It's true that we both have a passion for marketing. But since I consider baking to be my religion and discovering new recipes to be my holy grail, I research current trends with the hope of one day starting my own chain of bakeries.

Jess? Jess, on the other hand, is the founder of her own religion, with 100,000 adherents as of right now. The whole sassy ensemble: clothing, accessories, lips, hair, makeup, nails, and boobs. Jess advertises herself, I suppose, which is what? Her IG and Vlogs are runway success tales, and she does a pretty darn excellent job at it. After all, the girl is an eleven on a scale of one to 10 for attractiveness at first look.

I certainly make an effort to be current, but such trends don't thrill my old spirit. Maybe Jess is all about the "now" and I'm trapped in the past in more ways than one. No matter what, I've been her supporter ever since she changed her pigtails for purple highlights, she's been in my baking courses for as long as I can remember, and we stand up for each other because that's what best friends do.

In contrast, Dean is the closest guy friend I have. We met in the high school library and got along well. It's so cliche. The story has a twist, however. I've been the subject of his infatuation for nearly as long as our friendship. Nevertheless, he has never been a sleazeball about his emotions for me, so I still invite him around to spend out with us. I admire that he didn't act rudely when he was friend-zoned.

Of sure, he has his shortcomings. The fact that he is smarter than the ordinary Joe does not give him the right to look down on everyone through his black-rimmed glasses, as he often does. His ego is too enormous to see a problem with the way he treats others, and his words have the ability to cut like glass. But for the most part, we get along just well.

I honestly feel bad for him sometimes. Aside from his unfulfilled love, he also has other problems that he "prefers not to talk about." Typical. But based on what I've gathered over the years, his estranged rich father, who refuses to support his goal, is somehow involved. That is perhaps the reason we never visit him at home.

Jess and Dean are diametrically opposed to one another, much as Jess and I are. She is all about the flash, and he has no tolerance for it. We are a peculiar three, yet we manage to get along. They have even helped me out on occasion. After Mom's dying and the incident with Dominic and his asshole cronies, if it weren't for them, I could have gone into batshit insane mode.

They're really the closest thing to a healthy relationship I've ever had. Mom? On the brightest days, my connection with Mom was rocky. On the one hand, I was thankful to avoid becoming a statistic in a foster home because she was all I had growing up after my father left. Foster homes may harm children as much as bad mothers, however. She became a focus of her escalating fears as a result of Dad's absence, which left her insides looking like a frazzled bundle of nerves.

"If you're overweight, people will make fun of you."

"We won't matter if we're too poor,"

Baking is not an actual occupation. You'll never be taken seriously by anybody.

They were the lovely ones, too. I questioned sometimes if I really was her child.

She had a bad attitude, and because of that, I had several disputes with her and for her both inside and outside of the house. She had already left when I finally understood how unhealthy our relationship was. But she left those fears as a legacy deep within me, and sometimes I find myself fighting against them.

"Hey," My haze is broken by Dean's kind words, jolting me once again to the present as we peruse a downtown bookshop. He switches out the tech magazine he was reading. "Have you had any luck finding a job?"

My eyes suddenly lift from the vibrant pastry book in my palm. "Nope. No, not yet. It has been a week since the business where I was working as a temporary administrative assistant closed. I want to work. Desperately. My other costs, such as my college tuition, are set to mount. But like Dean, I'd rather not discuss my financial difficulties.

"OMG, Hannah Plower's brand-new book is out!" Jess screams out of nowhere, surprising me. I attempt to take the book by the famous baker, but she snatches it away.

"Join me in becoming a social media influencer. I know what to do. Her blue eyes intensify and take on a crystal-like sheen. "You can create adorable little culinary videos! Like ramen hacks or mint-choc-chip ice cream with coffee.

Oh, I have no idea about it.

"Go ahead. The brightest concept ever. However, huh..." She examines my loose clothing while grimacing her face as though she had just walked in dog poop. We must first clean up the mess.

I glare at her after pushing the spectacles up my nose. Which mess? Thank you very much, I think I look great.

She is sporting torn black shorts that likely cost twice as much as my phone bill and a red crop top. Even if the expensive shoes and handbag really make the outfit pop, it is still too much for a quick trip to the bookstore. I'm also sporting a pair of out-of-date pants and a plaid shirt that is half a size too big for my little body.

I must seem like a farmer in comparison to her. I've never been stylish since I can't match colors and styles. I don't currently have an income to accomplish anything so simple, thus I often enjoy browsing spice shelves rather than clothing racks. Even so, I wouldn't be spending my money on red crop tops and torn little shorts. Jessica Pruitt is capable of being sexy. I can't.

"Jess, I think I'll decline the offer to vlog."

"Can you picture Ann laughing like you or one of your many blonde sidekicks do on screen?" Dean mocks me and smiles jokingly before turning to face Jess. I don't think your brainy viewers, oh, I mean bimbos, would approve.

Jess gives him a dismissive kiss before raising her middle finger to halt the exchange and the discussion.

Dean rolls his eyes as I stifle a giggle that is about to come. I'm amazed at how patient your partner is with you.

Jess jokes, "He doesn't... which is why I've kicked him out," before bursting her bubblegum. "If you want, you can have him. I may make a request on your behalf.

I stop laughing and bite my tongue to keep from speaking. Both parties find it to be a sensitive subject. Since we discovered Dean using a homosexual porn website in high school, Jess has been making fun of him. Who cares if he had a little bi-curious side? Were we not all? The ticking muscle in Dean's jaw tells me all I need to know despite his attempts to seem unconcerned with her mocking.

Also, Jess manages to attract a new wealthy man every month; I have no idea how she does it. You name the career, and I promise she has been with someone from the field-politicians, CEOs, celebrities, etc. She is, however, a touch too daring, which will finally screw her up. I just know it.

"Avoid guys at all costs. Boys have a single desire.

Should have paid attention to the one thing that Mom was correct. Anyway, I'm listening now despite having a shattered heart and crying a lot. You can count on me to keep a safe distance of a mile from the entire boyfriend nonsense.

Don't misunderstand me. Not all hope is gone. I won't be leaving my will with a dozen cats if I live to be a virgin. Despite the fact that I am no longer the girl I was in college, boys continue to approach me. As long as I'm comfortable, how I appear is irrelevant. Additionally, comfort and beauty are seldom compatible in this place. I have no idea what people see in me, and I couldn't care less. But even though I reject them, I still have a romantic notion that fairytales are not entirely untrue.

However, males are the ones who appear in fairytale resolutions, not guys. Gentlemen. I'm looking for a mature, experienced guy who is the appropriate fit. One who prefers a calm evening in my kitchen after a stroll in the park to a club drowning in alcohol on a date. one who loves sex as much as stability. one whose passion and commitment are boundless rivers. a charming prince. There has to be one available out of the million guys for me.