So, here we are again. The title was inspired by Bridgerton, the (unofficial) Musical. I will also try to keep this one in a more cohesive timeline.

This begins, as all stories do, at the beginning.

For Sanjana.

I don't own things!

Show Him

Cindy Vortex sits on her porch, her eyes prickling with unshed tears. Her French braid is too tight, and the dress her mother picked out is too itchy.

The piece she had been practicing for weeks had been nearly flawless. Her fingers had flown over the keys like the pattern of the melody was engraved in her bones. She had been proud of herself. But when she'd asked her mother how she'd done, Sasha said. "You were fine."

That was all.

Fine.

That one word dug behind her ribs and settled in her chest.

"Hello there," a voice says. An unfamiliar woman is standing in front of her. Her bright red hair is softly curled, and she's wearing a vintage-looking dress. In her hands, she's holding a pie. "You must be Cindy."

Cindy blinks at her. "How did you know my name?"

"Your mother and I ran into each other at the store, and she told me all about you."

"Oh," is all she says. But she's surprised that her mother had been talking about her fine daughter.

"Anyway, I'm Judy Neutron, and my family and I just moved in across the street."

"It's nice to meet you."

"You too, dear. You know, your mother also mentioned that you are going into third grade this year. My son Jimmy is too. His teacher is named Mr. Roez."

"That's my class!"

"Perhaps, you would be willing to show him around the school. I would do it myself, but I'm afraid that unpacking is proving to be quite a challenge." Judy smiles at her, and in her eyes, Cindy sees warmth.

"Okay."

"Jimmy is spending a lot of time in his clubhouse, so you'll probably find him there. It's the funny little building in the backyard. I'll tell him to expect you. Unfortunately, I must be going now, but I'll see you soon, right?

"Right," Cindy takes the pie from Judy.

Judy smiles again. Then she turns to go back across the street. If his mother was that nice, her son couldn't be too bad.

A few days later, Cindy walks over to the clubhouse and knocks on the door. Then, after waiting for a few moments, she knocks again.

"Hello, is anyone there?"

"Go away. I'm busy!" A voice answers.

"I thought your mom told me to meet you here," Cindy argues.

"I don't have interest in meeting a girl," he says the word like a curse.

"Excuse me?" she angrily hisses back. "I am doing you a favor here."

"I'm a genius. I don't need your help."

"Fine! Fall flat on your face for all I care," she storms away without looking back.

Her heartbeat is pounding loud in her ears, and rage swirls in her stomach. How dare he treat her like she wasn't worth his time?

Well, she'd show him.