Hello, guys! After a week filled with tests, I'm pleased to present the third chapter of my most recent story. Hope you like it! Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon of A Cinderella Story. If I did, there would've been a few changes to the storylines.

That was eight years ago, and nothing had improved in the meantime. You don't need to hear the details to believe that-just imagine living life in an attic, surrounded by a stepfamily that just wishes you would disappear.

Some days were better, some days were worse, but in general, nothing much changed. Laurie got older and older, her stepsisters got uglier and meaner, and Fiona got better and better at making Laurie's life miserable.

But here's the thing: Laurie was tough, and she made it through. She even made it bearable. Almost. She'd hidden the grimy walls of her attic bedroom behind a layer of posters, and filled the room with hundreds of books that she loved, books that had gotten her through so many long nights growing up. A Princeton banner reminded her that there was hope for the future-and her prized possession, a picture of her and her dad at their last Yankees game together, reminded her that life hadn't always been this hard. Sometimes, shut up in her room, enjoying her privacy and dreaming about the future, she could almost forget the realities of her present. And then-

"Laaaauuuurie!" screeched Fiona. The wicked stepmother herself, still around and still the bane of Laurie's existence. Did she care that it was 5 A.M.? That Laurie was sleeping? That the entire world didn't exist merely to serve her every whim? Not a chance.

"Where's my salmon?" she called, her piercing voice flying up the stairs and rocketing Laurie out of her sleep more efficiently than the loudest alarm clock.

"I need my salmon!" (Yes, you read that right-her salmon-just wait, you'll understand soon enough.)

Laurie carried the plate out into the backyard, ready to rescue Fiona from her salmon crisis. The sun was still hovering on the horizon, but she knew Fiona would already be lounging by the pool, watching her two precious daughters practice their synchronized swimming. Brianna and Gabriella, wearing matching bathing suits, swim caps, and nose plugs, were performing mirror exorcises in the shimmering water under the watchful eye of their synchronized swimming coach, Blane. Blane was a man in his mid-thirties who spent his days teaching prissy suburban girls how to spin around in the water at the same time. And that's all you need to know about him.

"Come on, girls," he called to them, "let's keep our concentration. You're a mirror of each other."

Brianna-or maybe Gabriella-seemed confused. "Is that me? Or is that my reflection?" Laurie shook her head, trying not to laugh. Apparently the complicated concepts involved in this 'sport' were a little too much for her idiot stepsisters.

"Laurie!" Fiona shouted, distracting her from her morning's amusement.

"Coming," she said, and-as slowly as humanly possible-made her way over to Fiona's lounge chair. Fiona looked pretty much the as she had eight years before, although she'd expanded about four dress sizes since then(refusing to admit that, she continued to buy clothes appropriate for a woman a fourth of her size). Laurie winced, thinking that she was almost related to this. . .this creature-badly chosen clothes, badly colored hair, badly done nose job, and all.

This morning, as of every morning this month, Fiona had fer new favorite book propped open in front of her: The Salmon Diet. Laurie wasn't too sure that Fiona had actually read the book(actually, Laurie wasn't too sure that Fiona could read at all), but the woman had certainly taken it to heart. This was the latest in along string of fad diets Fiona had picked up and dropped over the years. None of them seemed to work. . .but they did provide Laurie with an endless source of entertainment.

"Is this Norwegian salmon?" Fiona asked. "I need my Omega-threes."

Her what? But Laurie just smiled politely and nodded. "They're Norwegian salmon, just like you asked."

"They better be," Fiona said, shooting her a warning look. Then she glanced over at the pool, where Brianna and Gabriella were attempting an elaborately symbolic water dance-or were trying to drown each other.

"Just look at them," Fiona continued, her voice dripping with poisonous motherly warmth. "So, so, so, so gifted. Laurie looked again and stifled a laugh-yep, definitely trying to drown each other.

"Well, don't just stand there with your mouth gaping open!" Fiona snapped. "Get to work!"

"But I have school," Laurie protested. Fiona looked disgusted.

"Oh, school, schmool," she said. "Stop being such a whiner. Most kids would love to skip school." she waved her hand-the signal that Laurie and her mundane concerns were officially dismissed.

"Now get going!"

Laurie sighed and traipsed back toward the house. If she was going to head over to the diner this morning, she might as well get it over with. And then, just when it seemed like the morning couldn't get off to a worse start, the sprinklers went off. Right were Laurie was standing. Drenched, Laurie raced for the spigot to turn off the water.

"Leave them!" Fiona commanded. "The lawn is looking a little brown."

"But we're supposed to be conserving," Laurie reminded her. The whole city was in a drought crisis, and lawn sprinklers were definitely on the list of 'don'ts'.

"But we're supposed to be conserving," Fiona mimicked her in a baby's voice. She looked at Laurie as if her stepdaughter was a wet and bedraggled stray cat who'd just stumbled onto the property-and was destined for the pound.

"Droughts are for poor people. You think Madonna has a brown lawn? We have class." And with that, Fiona stuffed an enormous piece of salmon in her mouth and went back to 'reading' her book. Laurie shook her head, heading back into the house. That was Fiona in a nutshell: always thinking of those less fortunate than herself-thinking of them and then, of course, shrugging in indifference.

That's all for now, guys. I promise you'll see more of the cast in the next chapter. As always, R+R, and no flames!