-Cinderella by Rayland Baxter-

It didn't take long for Mark to decide that he was going to leave Massachusetts. His talk with Denise inspired him, and now that he has the means - why not?

Nothing and no one was stopping him.

Just like Denise, nothing was keeping him there. He didn't have anything to lose.

So, he quit his construction job, told his landlord he'd be moving out of his apartment, and begin to prepare. After doing some research, he found out that many people live in their cars - specifically vans.

People convert their vans into homes and hit the road without ever looking back.

After finding out how he could make Dawn his new living quarters, he drew out his plan, bought what he needed, and got to work. It took twenty-nine days - almost a month - to fully convert Dawn. 

Since sleep was something he didn't do already, he worked day and night - with the help of Dunkin' Donuts, of course. 

Mark ate that Boston creme donut and was never the same.

Every morning, he would drive to the Dunkin' down the street from his apartment and order a Boston creme donut and a medium french vanilla coffee with two creams and two sugars.

Every time he pulled up the Dunkin', all he could think about was Denise.

How she was doing and if she was okay. Which she probably was; it's not like she couldn't stand on her own. Mark thought about how beautiful she was. From her bright smile to her fiery brown eyes.

Then there was her laugh.

It rang in his head like a song on replay. Almost put him to sleep a few times. 

All he could think about was seeing her again. Of course, he went back and forth about it, but once he finished with Dawn - Mark realized he needed to see her - at least before he left town.

Part of him felt like, seeing her was his way of finding a reason to stay. While the other part just wanted to know if she was okay.

It had been a month since he met Denise and the figured he could find her at the Dunkin' Donuts she worked at.

So that's where he went. 

Mark was hoping to find Denise at the cash register when he arrived, but instead, he found Emmanuel. 

At the sight of Mark, Emmanuel was anything but happy. The teen was relieved that Mark didn't become a familiar face, yet here he was. Not to mention how scary he looked.

"How may I help you?" Emmanuel didn't smile.

"Hi," Mark clears his throat, "is Denise working today?"

"Why?" Emmanuel glared. "Did you come to ruin her life too?"

Mark's eyebrows furrow, "what?"

"She's had enough guys walk all over her like she's nothing, so if you're here to do the same,  just leave."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," scoffed Mark. "Kid, it's not like that. I just want to talk to her." 

"Yeah, that's exactly what he said before he started ripping the place apart," snapped Emmanuel, blamingly. 

"Wha - who?" Mark questioned in confusion. Then it started hitting him. 

"Are you talking about Erick?" he guessed. "Did he come here? Did he hurt her?"

Realizing that Mark didn't know about what had taken place, Emmanuel calmed down. Clenching his mouth shut, he looked away.

"Look, kid, I told you, I'm not here to hurt her. I just want to talk to her."

Lifting his head, Emmanuel raised an eyebrow at Mark, skeptically. 

His tattoos made him intimidating and scary, but just like Denise did, he saw the goodness in Mark's eyes - his heart - his sincerity.

Emmanuel sighed softly, "she got fired a week ago because of Erick," he confessed.

"For the past month, Denise had been complaining about how he was stalking her and blowing up her phone. She had been ignoring him, and I guess he got tired of it. Erick came to the store one day on a busy shift too. Said she was going to pay the repairs for his dumb car. Of course, she told him she wasn't paying for crap. Thankfully, they were in public, so he couldn't do anything to her. But that didn't stop him from making a scene."

Shaking his hand, the teenager scoffed, "he started messing up the place, tossing chairs, pushing over tables, came to the kitchen, knocking stuff over. Denise tried to stop him, but he wouldn't. Not until she promised to pay him back."

"What a dick," Mark felt a tinge of anger prod at his gut.

"Yeah, I know. Why doesn't he fix his own car?"

Mark snickered at the question.

"What?" Emmanuel's eyebrows rose in intrigue.

"It's just, Denise, she kicked the mirrors off his car and punched in the window with her bare fist."

Emmanuel's face fell, "oh, she didn't tell me that. Not that she had to anyway."

"Yeah, well, she wouldn't' have done it if Erick hadn't put his hands on her."

Emmanuel's heart broke at Mark's information. He found himself angry too. Denise was rough around the edges, but she didn't deserve some douche bag putting his hands on her. He had been working with her for months.

Even shadowed her when he first started working at Dunkin' Donuts.

She was nice to him, helped him out, fixed his messes before he got the hang of everything. 

Emmanuel knew that she would never be his girlfriend, but without a doubt, he considered her a friend. 

Mark tapped his knuckles on the counter, "thanks, kid. I know where to find her."

Emmanuel gave a slight nod, watching Mark turn away.

"I know about the money!" he blurted out.

Mark turned around to look at him.

"Denise told me about it and what you guys talked about."

"So?" Mark lifted his shoulder. 

"Are you gonna leave? Massachusetts, I mean."

"Yeah," Mark nodded, "why?"

"Then promise me you'll take Denise with you. She deserves better, something new - a fresh start."

"Well, I can't make her -"

"If you're her friend like you say you are, convince her to leave - and don't ever bring her back. Ever." With a desperate look in his eyes, Emmanuel gulped, "promise me."

Mark realized that Emmanuel didn't just have some stupid crush on Denise. He really cared and wanted something better for her.

Here he was, asking a stranger to help a girl he had only met once.

Little did he know that stranger was willing to help.

"Promise?" Emannuel asked firmly.

"Yeah," Mark nods, "I promise."

___________

With a flick of her lighter, Denise lit her fifth or sixth cigarette for the day. She ran through boxes so fast; she tried to keep count, but after three, it just seemed so pointless.

Blowing the smoke in the air, she tucked her lighter in the strap of her tank top and crossed one arm over her chest.

Standing on the second-floor balcony of her room at the North Valley Motel, she thoughtfully started down at the cars driving passed on the road.

She was pissed, on edge and stressed. 

Denise was low on funds, no job, and now had to come up with money if she wanted to get rid of Erick for good. 

If only she were as bold enough to murder him as she was to damage his car, she joked to herself inside her head.

Cracking a smile, she shook her head and leaned on the railing.

Denise would have thought, showing a guy she wasn't one to mess with would help her, yet it only seemed to make matters worse.

Yeah, she could admit, punching in his window maybe wasn't the way to go about it. But what did he expect when he decided it was okay to hit her? Again.

Two wrongs didn't make it right, but ruining his expensive car sure made her feel better. The attachment he had to the thing was revolting. He cleaned that thing better than his own ass.

"Damn, D," Denise shook her head, laughing at herself. "You sure know how to pick him, huh?" she muttered to herself before taking a drag of her cigarette.

Hearing a familiar squeak, Denise turned her head to see her friend, Ana pushing a cart of cleaning supplies.

Ana was her friend who worked at the motel. Due to sleeping with the owner, she got Denise a free room there.

Whether she needed time away, or a relationship went wrong, Denise always had a room at the North Valley motel.

"Hey, girl," Ana stopped the cart in front of Denise's door.

"What's up?" Denise gave her a fist bump.

"Nothing much, working, you know how it is."

"Yeah, I do," Denise nodded.

When Denise said, Ana was a friend; she meant the term very loosely.

They weren't besties.

About a year ago, they met at a bar Denise was working at as a bartender. As always, when customers get alcohol in their system, things can get violent. Ana got into it with some girls and didn't have anybody to back her up. So, Denise stepped in.

Denise didn't like to fight, not unless it was to protect herself. But she couldn't just let Ana get jumped.

No one deserved to get jumped - no one.

So, she backed her up, they hashed it out, and of course, Denise was fired.

In the end, Ana was grateful and said if Denise ever needed anything, to call her anytime.

Due to Denise's poor choice in men, her relationships often affected her friendships so severely; she cut that part of her life out.

Even if she went to a party, a bar, or a club and met someone she liked, she didn't try to build a friendship.

She treated it like a one night stand.

Drink together, laugh, talk about how life crappy is, maybe even share a cigarette and then never see them again.

Denise even made sure to keep an emotional distance from Ana, who luckily respected that.

"So," Ana crossed her arms over her chest, "you figure out how to get the money yet?"

"Nope," Denise sighed, leaning back on the railing. "With no job, I couldn't even pay him in installments if I wanted to."

Ana chuckled at that.

Pushing her curly dark brown hair behind her ears, she bit her lip in thought.

Ana was twenty-nine and didn't look like she was going to be thirty anything in a few months. The Italian girl had light to pale skin, brown eyes, and plump lips that were always painted red - her boss's favorite color.

She didn't have much height either, which made her nowhere close to intimidating. People thought they were dealing with a pushover until her mouth started going.

"I know I proposed this before but, I got a cousin and I -"

"Nah, Nah, Nah," Denise laughed, knowing exactly where this was going. "Nah, girl, it's okay. I want him out of my life, not dead."

"They wouldn't kill him," Ana insisted, "just scare him."

Scratching her forehead with her thumb, Denise cocked an eyebrow in thought.

Ana raised her eyebrows, hoping she was considering.

After a minute, the two women burst out in laughter.

"You're insane, Ana," Denise shook her head.

"Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do," Ana shrugged. "Think about it, though. He deserved what he got after putting his hands on you."

Denise nodded in agreement, inhaling some of her cigarette.

As much as he deserved it, she wanted to do away with him without the cops possibly getting involved. 

Part of her wanted to believe, he wouldn't go to the cops; but for that car, he'd just about kill someone.

"Mind if I go in?" Ana pointed to Denise's room door.

"Have at it," Denise shrugged, turning back around to look at the passing cars, "it's a pigsty."

"It always is," Ana muttered.

Denise chuckled, tapping her cigarette, lightly.

Lifting it to her lips to inhale, she paused when she noticed a van pulling into the parking lot.

An orange van in particular.

A van that she recognized quickly, even though she had only driven in it once.

The encounter she had with the stranger a month ago flashed in her mind like a movie. For her, he was out of sight and out of mind.

So she didn't understand why he was there or what he wanted.

Coming out of the motel room to grab a trash bag from the cart, Ana paused, noticing the orange van parking.

She stood beside Denise, noticing the questioning look on her face.

At the sight of Mark climbing out of his truck, her breath hitched, "well, hello arms." 

Mark stood by his van, eyes locked on Denise, who was looking right back at him.

Ana nudged her arm, "you know him?"

"Barely," Denise took a drag of her cigarette, contemplating if she wanted to go down. "He was there when I ruined Erick's car. He gave me a ride, I bought him coffee, we talked, and that was it."

"If that was it, why is he here?"

"Good question." Denise turned around and leaned on the railing.

With a confused frown, Mark stared up at her, thinking she would have been coming downstairs already.

"Aren't you going to go down there?" Ana asked.

Denise scoffed, "for what? I told you, I barely know the guy. Besides, how do you know he's here for me?"

Ana clears her throat, "excuse me!"

"Ana!' Denise tried to stop her.

"Hi!" Ana waved at him. "Can I help you?"

"Fuck," Denise growled, keeping her back turned.

"I'm looking for Denise, " Mark pointed, "I need to talk to her."

Ana put up a finger, telling him to wait.

"He's here for you," she told Denise, who let out an amused laugh. "Come on, don't be like that?" Ana tells her.

"Like I said, I don't know him," Denise didn't budge. "I'm already in debt with Erick; I don't need another guy on my ass."

"Fine," Ana backed off, "but I want you to think about this. How many times does a girl get found by a guy she only met once? And a month ago?"

Denise ignored her question, continuing to smoke her cigarette.

She didn't know why she was behaving so stubbornly. Mark was nice when they met, respectful - cute.

When it came to guys, Denise never turned down a game of flirting and possible love story that would probably turn to shit like it always did.

Yet here she was, resistant and unwilling.

Ana goes inside the motel room, leaving Denise alone.

Denise stood her ground, staying put without a word or even a glance at Mark. 

She expected him to leave, but when she turned around to look, his van was there, and he was not.

Turning her head, she noticed him climbing the steps to her floor.

"You've gotta to be kidding me," she tossed down her cigarette and smashed it with her black sandal.

A smirking Ana peeked out of the room, watching Denise stalk over to meet him half way.

Mark reached the top of the stairs, finding himself smiling at the sight of her.

Like last time, she was wearing a tank top, only this time it was navy blue, and she wore jean shorts that put her thick thighs on display.

She was visibly pissed, but the sound of her sandals flopping made it all anti-climatic. 

"What are you doing here?" she greeted Mark, crossing her arms over her chest.

The whole way there, Mark had practiced what he was going to say but, now that he was here, under her fuming gaze, he had lost his words.

"Hello?" she stuck her neck out at him. 

Mark clears his throat, "oh, um, sorry, I uh, I stopped by Dunkin', but you weren't there."

"Okay, and?" she shrugged.

"And . . . Emmanuel told me what happened."

"Right," she laughed, glancing away. "So, let me guess you came to save the day?"

Mark's eyebrows furrowed, "what?"

"You're rich now, so you can give me the money to fix his car, and then what? In return, I rock your world for a night?"

"I didn't -"

"I'm a lot of things," Denise stood close to him, looking him right in the eyes.

She was nowhere near his height, but that didn't make him any scarier to her. 

"But I don't do things for money, so you can take your offer and shove it up your ass," she smiled. "We clear? Okay, great."

Turning around, she walked away.

Mark stood there thoughtfully.

His feelings should have been hurt, but they weren't.

Denise had been with a lot of bad guys.

And here was Mark, a stranger sitting on a wad of cash; coming to see her after hearing she got fired from her job and owes her boyfriend money.

Who was he deserving of respect?

To Denise, he was just another guy trying to screw her life up.

Mark started to turn around and leave but stopped himself.

Denise kept walking and didn't bother to look back.

"Are you okay?" his question made her stop.

With a bewildered look on her face, she slowly turned around, "what?"

"I just wanted to know if you were okay," he explained sincerely. 

Denise was so caught off guard by his question; it only made her angrier.

Unfortunately, she had already made a fool of herself, so she took a deep breath, calming down.

"Yeah, I guess," she flailed her arms. "I mean, I will be. I'll figure something out, I always do."

Anything but content with that answer, Mark only nodded.

What else could he do? 

She made it clear she didn't want help or even a confidant.

"Damn it, D," Denise watched him go back down the stairs, remorsefully.

After a moment of contemplation, she went after him, "Mark! Wait up!"

She went downstairs, meeting him at the end of the steps.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she shook her head with a huff, "I just - I want to know if you figured out what you were going to do with your money."

Denise leans on the railing, listening curiously.

"Yeah, I did," he propped his leg on the second to last step, "I'm taking your advice, leaving Massachusettes to travel the country."

"Really?" her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wow," she nodded, impressed, "that's great. Kudos to you."

"Yeah, thanks," Mark pushed his hands into his front jean pockets.

"It's been a month, and you're still here, took you that long to decide?"

"No, actually, I was busy converting my van into a home on wheels."

Denise's eyebrows furrowed, "you what?" 

"I converted my van," he smiled proudly. "Come on; I'll show you."

****

Another update is coming real soon this week. 

xoxoxo