If the Shoe Fits (Whatever After #2) by Sarah Mlynowski Page A

guess.
    “Cinderella, your crownies are really amazing,” she says.
    Cinderella flushes with pleasure. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.”
    “I’m sorry I don’t say nice things more often. I’ve been the worst stepsister ever.”
    “Well …” Cinderella hesitates.
    “Yes,” I fill in for her. “You have been.”
    “I’ve had it so easy and you’ve had it so tough,” Kayla says. “I’m sorry.”
    I wonder if she’d still feel sorry if we told her the whole plan. All she knows is that we’re trying to raise a hundred dollars so Cinderella can move out. She has no idea that Cinderella wants to move out to prove to Farrah that she can rescue herself. No clue whatsoever that Cinderella wants to marry the prince, who just happens to be the guy Kayla is pining for.
    “You haven’t had it that easy,” Cinderella says. “Your dad died when you were really little, and you have to share a room with Beatrice, who’s incredibly bossy. And your mom … well, your mom is really …”
    “Mean?” I say.
    Kayla snorts. “That’s the understatement of the year. She yells at puppies. What kind of a person yells at puppies? But at least I have my own money. My dad set up a big trust fund for me and my sister. I don’t have to rely on anyone for anything.”
    “Still,” Cinderella says, “it must be tough being in your shoes.”
    I look down at Kayla’s shoes. They’re black and shiny. They’re definitely nice. They’re also really big. Her feet are about twice the size of Cinderella’s. Even the swollen one.
    No, the glass slipper is definitely not fitting on her foot.
    “I need another crownie,” she says. “Here’s a dollar.”
    I hand her an extra-chocolaty one. “Don’t worry,” I say. “This one’s our treat.”

E ven though we sold most of our crownies, we only made thirty dollars. Then we had to use ten dollars of that money to buy more crownie ingredients, which only left us with twenty dollars’ profit.
    Which means we have to go back to the market tomorrow morning and make eighty dollars. Which seems kind of impossible.
    And we only have until noon at the latest.
    Then I subtract the time it takes to get to and from the market, and I get really worried. “Do you think Farrah would meet us at the market at noon?” I ask.
    Cinderella shakes her head. “She really seems to like chimneys and fireplaces.”
    Long story short? That night, instead of sleeping, we bake.
    Chocolate chip crownies, blondies — or clondies as we call them — and walnut crownies, even though Jonah keeps shaking his head in disapproval.
    It’s a good thing I’m busy mixing ingredients all night, because there’s no way I can sleep. I’m way too nervous. What if our plan doesn’t work? Will Farrah think we failed our mission? Will she not help Cinderella? Will she not help Jonah and me get home?
    We really have to get home. Technically it’s only been a few days in fairy tale land, so probably only a few hours have passed at home.
    The key word here is probably .
    What if I’m wrong? What if time is going faster at home? What if days have passed? Or what if Farrah doesn’t help us find the magic mirror that will lead us back to Smithville? Then what?
    Then we’re stuck in Floom … forever.
     
    It’s seven o’clock Tuesday morning. I’m navigating through the many booths at the market. Jonah and Cinderella have been heresince six. I stayed behind to wait for the last two batches of crownies to cool and to leave the stepfamily their breakfast.
    But who knows what’ll happen when Betty wakes up and realizes we’re not there. We asked Kayla to tell her that we had some errands to run. I hope Kayla doesn’t change her mind and tell on us.
    As we approach our booth, I feel an explosion of butterflies in my stomach. What if it’s slower than yesterday? What if no one buys anything? What if we can’t pull it off?
    Wow, it’s really busy here today. Look at that booth near the