We Are Home

chapter 4

My parents lived in a mansion. A freaking, marble, huge, pool-possessing mansion. It wasn't unlike Charles', actually. Just as pretentious, and threatening and wreaking of wasted money. At least Charles lived in his mansion. Here, there was nobody that I liked.

Jenna, my alleged sister, was apparently the best person in the whole wide world. At least, she was perfect according to my parents. I had yet to witness her brilliance, especially the brilliance that had been great enough for my parents to abandon me, and have her. She was a year and a half younger than me, my parents said. She was a sophomore it Merkley Private College Preparatory, which I would start in three days. My parents had taken the liberty of signing me up before they even went to pick me up from May's.

The moment we pulled up into the driveway of the stone mansion, I jumped out of the car and went to open the trunk. My parents had put Charles' present in there while I was buying chips in a gas station, because they were evil like that. I needed to find what was in it, both because I couldn't stand mysteries and because I needed some comfort right now. The Mercedes had a small trunk, holding only that unused suitcase of mine, and the small present. I grabbed both of them, hefting the suitcase out of the car and dropping it at my feet.

The gift was wrapped in metallic blue wrapping paper. I desperately wanted to tear the paper off and dump whatever the box contained into my open palm, but my parents interrupted me before I could do so.

"Welcome to our home!" My mother said. I wondered if she was including me in that "our." For some reason I doubted it.

"Yay," I said, very unenthusiastically. Both of my parents ignored me.

Just then, a girl dressed in designer pink strutted out of the double door of the mansion. She was blonde, but I couldn't tell whether it was natural or not, and tan. She wore a short, pleated khaki skirt and a dark pink tank top that displayed the white bra that she had on. A pair of pink stilettos adorned her feet, making me inwardly cringe. They looked painful.

"Hey Mommy, Daddy," the girl exclaimed happily, giving each of them a half hug. I just stared at her.

"You have got to be kidding me," I said.

"What? I didn't catch what you said," the blonde said turning to me. "And you must be Lena. My parents are so gracious to accept you into our home as a guest," she said to me. I didn't miss the implied this is my home and my family, not yours. "I'm Jenna." She gave me a mini hug, which made me stand rigid and awkward. I was half of a foot taller than her and there was something about the way that she pinched my back a little too hard, and stepped on the edge of my boot with her stiletto heel that gave me the distinct impression that she disliked me as much as I currently disliked her.

I probably should have said something like "thank you so much for having me!" or "I'm so pleased to be here," but I couldn't bring myself to do that. Instead, I settled for a fake smile.

"Jenna, why don't you help Lena with her bags? You can show her to her room," my father said. He looked mean and formidable in his suit, with a flat expression on his face.

Jenna scowled a bit, and didn't help me with my bags, but I didn't mind. I pulled the suitcase behind me, the gift in my other hand, as Jenna led me into the towering building that I would be living in, at least until I was eighteen years old. I turned back and found that my parents were slowly following behind us, talking to one another. I wondered if they were saying anything about me. I knew that I couldn't have been what they were expecting. They had probably thought that I would be like their beloved second child, Jenna.

Jenna was silent for most of the walk through the house, but I hardly noticed. I was too busy staring at my surroundings to notice much. The interior of the house was made with lots and lots of pale marble, like my parents were convinced that they were eighteenth century royalty and this was their palace. To open marble sets of stairs led up to a mezzanine, which then led to the second floor. The ceiling of the foyer was high and rounded, like a small white dome, and decorated with small twinkling lights. The floor was so shiny that I felt like I would destroy it with my ratty shoes.