Taste You In My Tears (ON HOLD)

chapter two - moving on... hopefully

-chapter two-

moving on... hopefully

    Pulling my iPhone out its the dock, I scanned the songs. I created a new playlist and sighed. The playlist was labeled “Break Up Songs.” In it, I placed all the I’m-so-over-you-cuz-you-SO-don’t-deserve-me songs. I played it and hopped over to my closet. Today I planned on wearing a black Dolce & Gabbana mini dress with  silver Miu Miu 6-inch heels. I grabbed the dress and a new set of underwear and dashed to my bathroom. The dress was sleeveless, casual, and very form-fitting. After I slipped it on, I checked myself in the full-length mirror. It wasn’t bad. I raced back my room, grabbing my flat iron, a few clips, and a comb with me. My heat-protectant spray was in my room, so I didn’t need to get it. Sighing, I plopped down on my daybed, which was right next to my window, and plugged my Chi in. As my Chi warmed up, I sauntered over to my full length mirror and wheeled it over to my pink and green daybed. I glanced at my black modern desk, where a brown-with-polka-dots (that actually HAD real gold in the paint) clock read 5:55. School started at 9, so I had about four hours to do my hair, makeup, and eat. So I grabbed the heat spray and spritzed my strawberry blond locks. My hair was cut straight, falling about three inches above my glute. I sectioned off and curled my hair while I thought about my PERFECT revenge plan. When my hair was finished, I padded over to my vanity and turned on the lights on the mirror. I grabbed my M.A.C. makeup bag and unzipped it. I pulled out a couple Bare Minerals and M.A.C. products. When I was done applying makeup, I checked the clock again. It read 7:30. I sighed again and walked down the huge, spiral, marble staircase and into the dining room. “May I please have sausages and eggs? With orange juice? Please? Thanksss!” I murmured into a small, white intercom in the corner of the room. Almost immediately, one of Father’s maids came in with a tray.

    “And don’t forget, miss, take your vitamins,” I heard a familiar voice say. I turned to her and gasped.

    “Joyce? Ohmigosh! When’d you get back??” I almost yelled at her. I stood up and hugged her. Joyce was my nanny from when I was one to when I turned thirteen. Since I was the only child, she left the state in search for a new job. After she left, I had no idea what happened to her. Because my parents were always gone, either at an appointment or working, Joyce had become my parental figure. She was the one I would always tell my problems to, and she would understand them completely. She knew me like no one else did.

    “Guess what? I couldn’t find a job outside your family, so your father hired me! Instead of being your nanny, I get to be your ‘lady-in-waiting.’” Or so says your dad. I think he hired me because he felt bad for your no-parent upbringing. But, I’m staying!” She said excitedly. I giggled. My parents were really rich, one of the richest in the country. Him and my mother owned several companies, two of which were a wind power plant and a gas chain station. I had enough money in my bank account to buy at least two houses. I wasn’t spoiled, not really used to getting what I wanted because I didn’t want much, but because Joyce had taught me how to be a civil, middle-class-seeming girl.

    “I’m so excited!! Thanks for the breakfast,” I said, sitting down. I started to cut my eggs when Joyce pulled up a chair.

    “Why so dressed up?” she asked suspiciously. I glanced at her. Yup, I thought, same old Joyce. She knew me so well, she could almost read my mind. Of course, she knew that I wouldn’t wear a dress and heels to school for nothing. And I wouldn’t curl my hair and apply makeup if I wasn’t trying to jealous-ify or impress someone. Not like they weren’t jealous or impressed already. “Is there a guy?” she asked with a small smile. Joyce was so modern, because she was only eighteen when she started taking care of me. Her family was pretty poor, so she couldn’t go to college. That’s why she got a job. Her mousy brown hair was cut in layers and came down to her midback. She had clear blue eyes, pale but soft skin, and heart-shaped cherry red lips. She was so pretty I had a hard time believing she was single, and has been from birth. Joyce told me she had no interest in dating because her parents taught her to focus on her study and ditch boys altogether.

    “Yeah, well...” I sighed, trailing off. I pulled my iPhone out of my handbag and checked the time. “Holy crow, its already 8:45!!! Where did time go?” I gagged on my OJ. Morningside High, our private high school, was 15 minutes away. It was a not-so-expensive school, but it was the best private school in the area. “Can I tell you after school?” I asked her, swinging my curls over my shoulder and grabbing my Stella McCartney tote, which was my school bag.

    “Sure. But stay true to your promise, kay?” she said, tossing me a bag of breakfast-in-a-bag. It was my way of eating in the limo.

    “You know me,” I said with an eyeroll. I walked out of the dining room, shoved on my heels, and walked out the door. I exhaled loudly as I walked into the driveway where my chauffeur was waiting with the engine on. This was gonna be a long, hard day, but I’ll make it. I swear I will.

    I had no idea what I would see there.