Worse for Hope- Book #2 in the WF Series

Chapter 2: First Day

✿Bethane's POV:✿

Monday, October 2

"That's your second cup in under five minutes." My dad looks worriedly at me.

I look down at his fourth cup and he follows my eyes, feeling caught.

"I'm a dad," he excuses, and I nod sarcastically.

Our family has a serious coffee addiction. I don't think any of us would be able to survive our day without at least two cups.

"Roman's outside!" my mom calls from the front of the house.

I rush over to grab my bag after throwing in a piece of mint gum because coffee breath is not the best scent. My shoes are already on, so I walk toward the front porch from where I can see my mom talking to Roman who is sitting in his black sports car.

Like I said, they're loaded. I promise I don't say that in a bitter way. It's just that when you grow up with not a lot, you're prone to recognizing nicer things.

"...and she's allergic to almonds," I hear my mom say as I approach closer.

You've got to be kidding me.
She does know I'm seventeen, right?

"Mom," I groan.

She turns her head around. "What? I don't want you to God forbid have a reaction and end up at the hospital," she says in a 'duh' voice, still not understanding that I'm not unable to speak for myself and know how to deal with my allergies. "Oh, and when she gets her period, she gets a little moody so get her some chocolate to calm her dow-," she turns around to finish telling Roman my biography, making my eyes widen before cutting her off.

"Get inside." I point as Roman is finding amusement in my embarrassment.

She laughs at my red face before kissing my forehead and strolling inside casually.

"Have a nice day!" she calls like she didn't just say any of that.

How do I ask Roman to run me over with his car? How much do I have to pay? I'll put down both my kidneys.

Roman looks at me, humor clearly written on his face, but I choose to ignore him as I take a seat in the passenger side. I shut the door, setting my bag in my lap, careful not to get any part of his car dirty or messed up.

"So you need that chocolate?" he turns his head towards me, asking his question "rhetorically".

I roll my eyes. "Shut up," my voice screams in annoyance, bringing a smirk from him teasingly.

Roman's one of my cousins who I was talking about earlier. He's Noah; the stinkin' rich one's son. Although, even Roman has never bragged or said anything about his dad's fortune. Well, Roman also doesn't speak very much. I think him asking me that question and making fun of me was the most I've heard him talk in years. He also looks different since the last time I saw him. Definitely taller, a whole lot smirkier (If that's even a word), and also has grown his dark hair out just a little.

We pull out of the driveway before Roman drives us to school while a comfortable silence plays, along with the radio. I like things being quiet so I don't mind it, and I know Roman likes it too because of the naturally reserved persona he has.

The school isn't very far so we reach in about fifteen minutes.

The building from the outside looks pretty normal, and the kids who are walking and talking outside do too. My insecurities, though, kick in right when I see all the nicely dressed and pretty-looking girls talking to one another confidently. Most of them have such pretty hair or super skinny bodies that I only wish I could have in my dreams.