Disclaimer: I don't own A Cinderella Story. And I actually wouldn't want to. Yeah, I know Hilary Duff isn't too horribly annoying, and Chad Michael Murray isn't that bad looking, but all the same – meh.

A/N: I don't know why I'm writing this fic, except for the fact that CMM is really adorable in this scene, and I personally think his character a bit too thick in the movie, so! Here is (hopefully) a slightly brighter Austin Ames.

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I sat down at the counter in Fiona's, frustrated at life and everyone in it. This whole Cinderella thing wasn't going at all as I had hoped it to. We were supposed to meet at the dance, find out who the other was, and then go to Princeton and live happily ever after together. Yeah, I know it sounds rather naïve and girly for me to have imagined it happening like that, but I'm a poet inside, and we can get rather melodramatic sometimes. It's what we do. Anyway, now it seemed as though I would never learn the girl's name, we'd never get together, and I'd end up going to USC.

"Hey, can I get you something?"

Glancing up from the peppershaker I'd absently picked up, I saw Sam Montgomery, more often known as Diner Girl. She was holding a small tablet of paper and a pen, waiting for me to speak.

"Do you know what bugs me?" I burst out suddenly, surprising both of us.

"People taking your order?" Sam ventured.

I snorted lightly. The girl had a good sense of humor, unlike a lot of other females I knew. Cough. Shelby. Cough. "No," I said, pointing my fingers at her, "taking peoples' orders."

"Why would you do that?"

Her emphasis on the word 'you' made me feel a twinge of guilt. Did people really think of me as a prince? Did they truly think that I was above rules? And how did that impression come to be? I wasn't more important than any other kid in school. Not really. Everyone was important. I just was the captain of the football team. I grunted and reached out to take a menu. "You don't know my dad." Looking over the list of food, my eyes caught on an item that made my stomach revolt. "Ugh, sushi and donuts? Who does that?"

Sam smiled awkwardly and shook her head slightly as if she didn't know either. With a sigh, I put the menu back. "I'll take a coffee, thank you."

I sat back as she bent down to gather a cup and saucer. It was nice to finally say some of my feelings aloud. Sure, I had ranted about my hidden self to princetongirl online, but she had proved herself to be an elusive character, no more real than vapor. Well, I knew she was real, duh, I had danced with her and nearly kissed her; yet the way she disappeared left me feeling almost as if I had dreamed the whole thing.

Sam set the cup in front of me and reached for the coffee pot.

"Do you ever feel that if you told someone who you really are, they won't except you?" The words leaped from my mouth before I could even consider what I was doing. Great, I was spilling my guts to some girl I didn't really know. Who knew where I would be quoted by tomorrow? No wait, I reassured myself, Sam isn't like that.

"Yeah," she answered, pouring the coffee, "I do. Like being yourself isn't good enough."

Her words rang straight to my heart. My friends would never accept me as a writer. In fact, they were only my friends because of my status at school as football captain. They didn't care about my dreams, all they cared about popularity and what they could get from me. "That's right," I muttered.

"Like you're wearing a mask."

My eyes shot up to meet hers. A mask. The mask I wished to tear from my face every day. The mask I wished to discard so I could show the world that Austin Ames wasn't just some stupid jock. That I had a brain and that I loved words and writing. "That's exactly how I feel," I said slowly, nodding as I lifted my coffee up to take a long sip.

It was amazing how easily she understood me. I had never had such a connection with someone, save for princetongirl. Sam knew, perhaps from all her years as a loner, what it felt to lock yourself up and hide from others.

"You just want to be honest with this person, and tell them 'it's me.'" Sam paused, gazing harder at me, as if she were trying to speak with her eyes. "I'm the one that you've been looking for."

The strength in which she said those words sent shivers down my back. "Yeah." I was nodding again, shocked at her intensity yet emboldened by it as well.

"Austin," her lips trembled as she took in a deep breath, "I'm – "

I didn't hear the last part, because at the same moment, someone screamed, "SAM!"

She sighed, hanging her head slightly. "One second," she tried.

"No, now!"

Sensing her embarrassment, I smiled. "No, it's cool, I gotta bounce."

Sam snorted softly as I set my coffee back on the counter. She began clearing it away while I dug in my pocket for some cash. Tapping her on the shoulder, I handed her the crumpled bills.

She seemed so, deflated almost, as if she wanted to say something but was afraid to. I couldn't help but wonder... "Oh, thank you…very much," I said, deeply meaning it, and hoping to cheer her.

When she didn't answer, I turned and started to leave.

"You're welcome," she finally called after me.

As I stepped back out into the warm Californian air, my brain was whirring a million miles a minute. Sam couldn't be Cinderella, could she? But that was what she was trying to say to me a few moments before. It had to be. 'Austin, I'm Cinderella.' Only she hadn't been able to finish.

No, it wasn't true. Sam was just Sam. Yes, she was both smart and beautiful enough to be Cinderella aka princetongirl, but she would have identified herself already. Not that Sam was in the same group as the girls who threw themselves upon me, but she had no reason to wait. No, no, no, she would have told me, because, why wouldn't she? Why would she hide and prolong the publicity? Everyone wanted to know who "Austin Ames's mystery girl" was? It wasn't like the Sam I'd seen to draw attention to herself.

I considered going back inside and talking to her again. Even if she wasn't Cinderella, she was someone special. Not that I was giving up on princetongirl, it was just that Sam was real. She was there. I could watch her as she listened and see her eyes sparkle as she spoke. Yes, she wasn't rich and she drove a crappy car and she wasn't popular, but she had something that all the "cool" kids didn't. She knew who she was, and she was proud of it. She was the sort of person you were lucky to know. And tomorrow, after school and the pep rally, I was coming back here and getting to know her better.

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A/N: And, of course we know how the pep rally goes…lol! I'd like to know what you thought, so REVIEW please!

-- pj