and she's happy because even though they may be imperfect, they're their special brand of imperfect that seems purely perfect together




"What's your name?"

"Ella Wiston."



"Adam Lenn."

"Oh. Mind if I call you Addie?"

"...that's a girl's name."

"I don't care."

"You drive a hard bargain. Fine. But I'm gonna call you Cinders."

"I. Am. Not. Blonde."


"Fine. I call you Addie and you call me Cinders. Done?"

And they shake hands to seal the deal.


They run and run away from the building, and finally stop when they reach a copse of trees.

"Did you, see his face, Addie?"

"Yes! He was, he was red!"

They laugh together about a spectacular prank, well pulled off. Then the conversation turns to who should take the credit in school the next day.

"Me. Duh. It was my idea."

"I carried it out, Cinders."


"Actions are worth more than words."


He sees her cynical expression. It infuriates him, her continual scepticism and those walls she's built up.

"You know what? Take the credit. FINE. Just don't plan to talk to me again."

He storms off, without seeing her mouth half-open, in the process of telling him she's sorry.

The next day, with everyone buzzing about the prank played on Mr Warsaw, he doesn't dare to come out. Neither does she.


In school a few weeks later, he sees her and is struck by her resemblance to a tortoise in the shell. She shrinks when asked questions and no-one walks with her. And he feels sorry because didn't he know that he was the only one she let in? So he goes to her.


She jumps, her black hair wisping about. "Y-yes?"

"I'm sorry."

And all the pain he goes through while swallowing his pride is worth it because her face breaks out in this brilliant, iridescent smile.

"I'm sorry too. Can we go back to normal?"

And they do.


She doesn't know when or how it happens, but suddenly she's nervous when she speaks to her. He gives her butterflies.



She blushes inadvertently. Her deep tan conceals this fact to a certain extent, though, and for that she is happy.

"I've b-been thinking about... you know. Us. And... I think I'm falling for you."

She smiles. He had always been the courageous one. However, now that the boundary has been breached, she finds the courage to say, "I think I'm in love with you too."

By the end of the week, Atherton High is buzzing with the news that one of the most meant-to-be couples has gotten together. No-one is surprised.


She is typing away on the computer when he picks her up, bridal style. She shrieks in laughter and surprise, because wasn't he supposed to be home an hour later?

"Cinders," because these nicknames have persisted, "let's go out. Picnic. I have the food and everything. Change and we'll leave."

She's slightly shocked. He never packed food. But she didn't think too much about it and changed. They left for Sweetgrass Meadow ten minutes later.

The food was amazing. So was the atmosphere. They talked and kissed and didn't do much else. As she was packing up the basket, he tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to look at him, on his knees with his hand outstretched.

"Ella Winston, I love you. Always have, always will. Will you marry me?"

She is ecstatic. When they reach home, she tells everyone. As before, no-one is surprised.


He is delighted. She is beautiful, and she is going to be his wife. When she reaches him, they say their vows. Their mothers cry. There isn't a dry eye anywhere, and when they kiss fireworks go off outside. His little brother, Brad, claims credit. They thank him.

When they drive off later to their honeymoon location, the whole congregation isn't surprised to see that many of the shoes and tin cans behind their car are rainbow coloured. That is their love story.


They are old now, and their children are adults. Alone in one house, they sit and watch the sunset. Orange and pink streaks paint the sky. They are perfection.

a/n: i have no idea what this is. i like flufffff so that may be a reason.