It Started with Goodbye

You won’t be able to put this book down. This heartfelt read totally sucked me in.

MIRANDA KENNEALLY, bestselling author of Catching Jordan

Honest, fun, and entirely compelling, this is a story about how being in the wrong place at the wrong time can lead to a whole lot of right. Tatum is a character you’ll relate to, cheer for, and want to befriend.

LAURIE ELIZABETH FLYNN, author of Firsts

An unfailingly entertaining and thoroughly engaging read from cover to cover … highly recommended.

—MIDWEST BOOK REVIEW

Christina June’s contemporary retelling of Cinderella is a delightful debut that addresses family, friendship, trust, and going for what you really want. A lovely story that’s full of heart.

—LAUREN GIBALDI, author of The Night We Said Yes

"Tatum’s complex and realistic relationships with her friends, family, and a potential love interest will have you savoring every chapter while heavily anticipating the next. It Started with Goodbye is an adorable and clever contemporary that will enthrall you with its fairy tale-esque charm."

AMI ALLEN-VATH, author of Liars and Losers Like Us

[A] fun, contemporary take on the Cinderella tale that explores what it takes to be yourself while finding your place in life, love, and your family. June’s characters are vividly drawn, complex people that you’ll want to root for, and Tatum’s story will strike a chord for anyone who’s felt like they were misunderstood.

LISA MAXWELL, author of Unhooked,

Sweet Unrest, and Gathering Deep

A sweet and satisfying portrait of family, friendship, and discovering your own path. Tatum’s journey from fear and disappointment to honesty and freedom to be herself is one that will resonate with many readers.

ASHLEY HERRING BLAKE, author of Suffer Love

With an adorably charming heroine and a swoon-worthy love interest, Christina June has created true YA perfection.

—HEATHER VAN FLEET, author of the Reckless Heart series

A heartfelt and refreshing take on a classic fairy tale, with a modern Cinderella you will root for. Tatum is a complex and realistically drawn protagonist, and the slow-burn romance with her Prince Charming had me grinning and yearning for more.

—CAROLINE TUNG RICHMOND, author of

The Only Thing to Fear and The Darkest Hour

BLINK

It Started with Goodbye

Copyright © 2017 by Christina June

This title is also available as a Blink ebook.

Requests for information should be addressed to:

Blink, 3900 Sparks Drive SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546

Epub Edition March 2017 ISBN 9780310758631

ISBN 978-0-310-75866-2

Any Internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by the publisher, nor does the publisher vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of this book.

This book is a work of fiction. Any character resemblances to persons living or dead are coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

BLINK™ is a registered trademark of the Zondervan Corporation.

Cover design: Darren Welch

Interior design: Denise Froehlich

Printed in the United States of America

17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 /DCI/ 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Dedication

A strong spirit transcends rules.

—PRINCE ROGERS NELSON

For anyone who has ever had to defend

the things that make them happy.

Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Q&A with Author Christina June

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Chapter 1

Tatum, they have your license plate on camera. This is as good as it’s going to get." Mr. Alves stood at the head of the table in the plush conference room.

I stared blankly at him, still trying to process what he was saying. My head was spinning, and it sounded like he was speaking Greek while his cheeks were stuffed full of mashed potatoes.

My stepmother, Belén, poked my shin with the toe of her pointy pump. Tatum Elsea, Mr. Alves is trying to help you.

I yelped, even though it didn’t hurt. You didn’t need to kick me, I said loudly, making sure my dad, Mr. Alves, and the people in the next office over heard me.

Tatum, my dad warned, putting a hand on my shoulder. Tom, could you please run through the deal again? Tatum, you need to listen. This is your future.

Yes, sir, I said, eyes down, guilted. The temperature in the room seemed to increase with each second that ticked by on the wall clock. I wiped my palms on my skirt.

Mr. Alves cleared his throat. Right. Here we go again. He looked at me over his glasses. You’re expected to confirm the figures seen on the security camera at four thirty-seven p.m. on June ninth, exiting Mason’s Department Store. He pushed his glasses back up on his nose and glanced down at the paper in his hand. Ashlyn Zanotti and Chase Massey. Is that correct?

Correct, I said, and checked out my reflection in the table’s polished surface. This was torture.

The official charge for both is grand larceny, because the total amount stolen exceeds two hundred dollars. Normally in Virginia, you would be charged with the same felony, since you were the driver. However, as you have no record, you’re issuing this statement, and there was no merchandise found on your person or in your car, the commonwealth attorney has agreed to reduce it to a misdemeanor instead.

Thank goodness for small favors, Belén said. This is still going to affect your college applications, you know. I was reading on the Focused Parent blog about the impact of criminal charges. You’ll have to disclose it, Tatum.

It was so typical of her to bring up that ridiculous blog. Just because the author was an expert and was on TV all the time did not make him the authority on life. If I’d had the power to take away her voice temporarily, like in The Little Mermaid, I might have used it. I bit the inside of my cheek instead.

The silver lining is that we can petition to have your record expunged. Mr. Alves offered me a sad smile, while Belén exhaled the biggest sigh of relief the world has ever heard.

That’s good, I said quietly, to the table. At least this snafu wouldn’t follow me forever.

Mr. Alves continued. Mr. Massey, age nineteen, will obviously be charged as an adult.

Had I heard that right? I picked my head up. Um, Mr. Alves, did you say nineteen?

Yes, he said, his glasses sliding lower on his nose. Why?

My eyes grew wide. He told her he was seventeen.

Belén’s hair rustled against her blouse as she shook her head, no doubt with disappointment over the ineptitude of teenagers, especially that of my best friend, Ashlyn.

It seems that Mr. Massey did more than falsify his age. He also chose not to disclose his long list of previous offenses. Mr. Alves flipped through the pages in his hand. Vandalism, assault, petty theft—it goes on and on.

Huh. I’d always known Chase wasn’t good boyfriend material, for sure not good enough for Ashlyn, and his finer points were sadly the reason I found myself in what the commonwealth attorney wanted to call the getaway car that fun-filled afternoon. But a repeat offender? For Ashlyn’s sake, I’d tried my best to look past the scruff on his face, the ink peeking from beneath his sleeves, and the way he leered at me when Ashlyn’s back was turned. And for my trouble, for trying to watch out for her, it landed me here, in this uncomfortable wooden seat, between my dad and the stepmonster, facing completely ridiculous, unnecessary charges.

These are the people she’s keeping company with? Belén sat up straighter and eyed my dad from over my head. Not only was she pretty, if you liked robotic, she was tall and often used that to her advantage when she wanted to remind all of us that she was in charge.

I didn’t know, all right? I protested. I hope you realize I wouldn’t have been spending time with a criminal if I’d been aware of that piece of information.

My dad and Belén exchanged another look I interpreted as skepticism. I was sure that any trust I had earned over sixteen years of being Dad’s daughter and eight years as Belén’s stepdaughter went right out the window the second the security guard came charging out of Mason’s after Chase and Ashlyn, but still, I thought they knew me better. Clearly, I thought wrong.

Dad patted me on the shoulder to remind me that this wasn’t the time to argue. I sighed as Mr. Alves called for his secretary to come in and take down my statement. A young redhead sat down next to Mr. Alves with a laptop, and started typing as soon as I began speaking.

Well, after school that day, Ashlyn had told me she wanted to go to Mason’s to get a new pair of flip-flops and some nail polish. The weather was finally warm enough to wear sandals and short skirts, and Ashlyn wouldn’t be caught dead with bare toes. She let me know on our way to the parking lot that Chase was coming, which ticked me off.

Be polite, Tatum. Belén narrowed her eyes in disapproval.

I sighed and rested my chin in my hand. I drove because I knew that if I was the one with the wheels, I could make sure we weren’t there all day. The less time I spent with Chase, the better. When Ashlyn and I got to my car—the sensible navy hybrid I shared with my stepsister, Tilly, on weekends—Chase’s hulking frame was leaning against my trunk. A cigarette dangled between two fingers, smoke curling upward. I wrinkled my nose, not just at the nasty smell but at Chase himself.

So is it accurate that you questioned Mr. Massey’s character right from the beginning of his relationship with Miss Zanotti? Mr. Alves gestured to the redhead to make sure she got that.

Of course I did. I know appearances aren’t everything, but I never thought he was a good guy. Chase and Ashlyn had been dating for a couple of months. They’d met at the gas station where he worked. She spilled fuel on her hands while pumping—possibly on purpose, knowing Ashlyn—and was forced to go inside the convenience store and ask for the restroom key. He flirted, she batted her eyelashes, and suddenly my closest friend was involved with someone she knew almost nothing about.

Chase had been Ash’s first real boyfriend, but the guys she’d crushed on in the past were good students, wore clothes that were hole-free, and used hair product generously. Chase, on the other hand, told her he’d dropped out of high school due to family issues but was planning to get a GED real soon, baby. She fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I’d hoped he was just something she needed to get out of her system. There was no doubt that her father, Arthur Zanotti, millionaire real-estate developer, would freak out as soon as he learned his precious princess was spending time with someone like Chase. Luckily for her, he hadn’t picked up on that tiny detail of Ash’s life. Until now, at least.

Chase wasn’t exactly the kind of guy you’d bring home to meet the parents, I told them. I started doodling on the pad of paper in front of me, until Belén closed her hand over mine, halting the pen from moving. I scowled, but stopped drawing and continued.

Anyway, I drove to Mason’s while Ashlyn and Chase sat in the backseat. Him whispering and her giggling, me feeling like a chauffeur. After we parked, I went to the art supplies and they went to the makeup. I remembered wandering through the racks of crayons and markers, grabbing a set of charcoal pencils and a small sketchpad that would fit perfectly in my favorite hobo-style shoulder bag.

And then what? Mr. Alves nodded for me to keep going.

I went upstairs to check out the tablet computers. I was saving to buy one, but babysitting money only went so far. I almost passed out when I saw the price for the one I’d been admiring, which had led to a disappointed sigh. I still hoped that by the end of the summer, maybe, I would score enough cash to get it.

Lynn, make sure you make a note about our client having been in the electronics department, Mr. Alves said to his secretary. Tatum, did you notice anything odd while you were there?

On my way back downstairs to pay for my stuff, I saw Ashlyn and Chase making out in the cell phone aisle. That made me want to throw up, so I turned around immediately and went to pay. Ashlyn had been up on tiptoe, her mouth suctioned to Chase’s, while his hands roamed over her back. Blech. I liked kissing as much as the next girl, but in the middle of a store, where anyone could walk by? No thanks. I’d sent Ash a quick text telling her I’d be in the car and not to take all day.

You didn’t happen to notice any Mason’s employees near them?

Nope. I paid for my pencils and pad, went to the car, and pulled it up in the loading zone, hoping they’d see me when they came out.

Okay, and what happened when they exited?

When they finally came out, Chase went to open the backseat door, but it had automatically locked. When he couldn’t get in, his face had turned stormy. I had fumbled with the buttons to let them in, which in hindsight was probably lucky. Those extra few seconds were enough time for the Mason’s security guard to come marching out, black walkie-talkie in hand, shouting.

Once the guard showed up, things started getting bad, fast.

The doors had finally unlocked, and Chase clambered into the car, knocking his elbow into the metal doorframe in the process. He swore loudly. I looked behind me at Ashlyn, who was cowering next to him like she wanted to slide down under the seat in front of her. The security guy pounded on Chase’s window so loudly, I screamed.

Shut up, Tatum. Chase had glared at me in the rearview mirror with his teeth bared, like he was ready to bite me. I looked away and found myself eye to eye with the livid security guard, gesturing for me to roll down the window. I did.

Is something wrong, sir? I’d clasped my hands in my lap to keep them from shaking.

You and your friends need to exit the vehicle, miss.

Mr. Alves glanced over his secretary’s shoulder to make sure she was getting all of this. Go on.

I got out of the car right away. Ashlyn did too. With what can only be described as a guilty look on her face, eyes downward, refusing to look at me or the guard. Chase foolishly remained seated and cursed at the guard, until three more came and physically removed him from my car. The men had patted us down; legs spread, arms wide like wings. I’d never been so utterly embarrassed in my life. Even though the evening air was warm and humid, I’d shivered on the sidewalk, waiting to find out what was going on.

They got nothing from me and Ash, obviously, but I guess you know what they found on Chase. The men pulled four brand-new iPhones from Chase’s ragged jeans, and a stack of gift cards from the waistband of his boxers.

Mr. Alves checked his papers. The monetary amount Mr. Massey stole totaled over three thousand dollars, and it seems he had a little help from a Mason’s employee, who left the locked cases open for him and activated the cards.

What a jerk, I said under my breath.

We had taken a little ride in the cop cars that showed up minutes later, and Ashlyn and I ended up together. I remembered looking at her pointedly as we sped to the station.

Did you know he was going to take that stuff, Ash? She didn’t answer me. I stared harder, hoping the weight of my glare might force her to turn her head, but no dice. Ash? Did you know? Did you help him? Because if you did, you not only put yourself in danger, but me too. I thought you were smarter than this. It was a cheap shot, and I knew it.

At smarter, she’d turned her head, her blue eyes neon with emotion. Everything is going to be fine. This isn’t a big deal. Why are you being such a brat?

My cheeks flamed. Excuse me? Not a big deal? You and your loser boyfriend shoplift and try to use me as your getaway driver, and I’m getting scolded for being mad? No way. This could ruin our lives. You do not get to call me a brat. I have every right to be upset. You do not. Right now, you don’t get to be anything. I glanced forward and realized the policeman driving the car was watching us in his mirror.

Ashlyn waved her hand, dismissing me. Whatever. We didn’t do anything wrong. Chase’s friend gave him the phones. He said he put them on layaway and they could be paid for in installments. It’ll all get sorted out.

I’d gaped at her. Who was this person, and what had she done with my intelligent, fun, loyal best friend? If you believe that, there’s a beach in Antarctica I’d like to sell you.

My cheeks warmed with anger again, just recalling that awful scene. Next to me, my dad squeezed my hand under the table.

So just to wrap this up, you talked to someone at the police station, and you were then released to your father, correct? Mr. Alves leaned back in his chair, appearing satisfied with my answers.

Yep. When we pulled in, Mr. Zanotti was already there, wearing his ever-present dark suit, perfectly coordinated pressed shirt, and shiny tie, with cell phone in hand, shouting almost as loud as the security guard had. As soon as I stepped out of the cruiser, my dad’s sedan parked next to us.

Once we’d answered their questions, the police finally let Ashlyn and me leave. When I slid into the front seat of Dad’s car, I spied Ashlyn in her father’s black SUV, the car he carted his clients around in, clearly getting an earful from Daddy. Her eyes were pointed at the floor, as they had been for most of the evening, and I thought I saw a tear falling down her pale cheek. For half a second, I felt bad for her . . . and then I remembered how we’d gotten here.

The ride home was just as uncomfortable for me as I’m sure it was for Ash. I gave up trying to defend myself when my dad started using words like disappointed, unsafe, and poor judgment. Hearing how I