Poor Little Rich Girl | ✓

Chapter 1: Someone Sounds A Little Bitter

OKAY I UNDERSTAND THAT ACTUAL MANSIONS COST MORE THAN WHAT I SAY THEY DOBUT I'M NOT A REAL ESTATE AGENT AND I DON'T LIVE IN CALIFORNIA, SO YEAH. IF YOU CALIFORNIANS COULD JUST STOP COMMENTING ON HOW MUCH THEY REALLY DO COST? THAT'D BE SUPER GREAT. 

Chapter 1: Someone Sounds A Little Bitter

I stand outside of my soon to be old house along with my brother willing myself not to cry. It’s been two days since our parents told us the horrifying truth that we’re broke and moving to Tennessee. I wouldn’t be so distraught about this had I had a future notice or something. But no, they just sprung it on us all out of the blue. My parents are both in the house still, talking to the man they’re about to sell it to. It’s completely bare, and everything that was once in there has been auctioned off. Everything

Well, not everything. I got to keep my wardrobe, which is really good. But aside from clothes and small inexpensive things, the rest is being auctioned off this weekend. In fact, the amount of things I get to keep is so significantly low that all I have is one suitcase. Aside from my clothes of course, and those are being shipped to Tennessee, is what my mom told me last night. In my suitcase is my laptop, my iPad, my hair and make-up accessories and a few other things that either no one would probably want to buy or something I was just too stubborn to give up. I had about twelve hissy fits in the two days while we were deciding what had to go.

“Spencer?” I ask as Maria, our chef who my dad just had to lay off since we won’t be living here anymore, walks out of the house and gets into her new Lexus. My dad bought it for her as a goodbye present. He’s such a generous man, and this Jimmy Camden guy better hope that I never actually see him, because I am definitely going to be very upset if I see the man responsible for ruining the rest of my life.

“Yeah?”

“Is jumping in front of a moving car homicide or suicide?”

“Suicide.” He says sighing.

He’s pretty torn up over the fact that he’s gotta miss his own graduation; especially since he was supposed to speak at it. He’s even wrote some of his speech, which I read and it was good, actually. Poor Spencer. Like I said, he’s popular, so he got a lot of offers from his friends to stay with them for the remainder of the year, but our parents vetoed that. It’s pretty terrible, actually.

“Well, then, I guess I’m going to Hell.” I say, about to just end my misery and jump in front of Maria’s car. Not literally of course, but I have a mind to do it. Maria honks at us, waving goodbye and Spencer and I both wave back to her with sad smiles. Maria’s been our cook for pretty much my whole life. I can remember being a little toddler, just learning how to walk. I’d run into the kitchen or something and Maria would always let me do little stuff to help her.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.” Spencer says optimistically. “Grandma Nancy’s place, I mean. I’m sure Hell isn’t very fun.”

“Please.” I say, rolling my eyes. “Have you met our grandmother? I’d rather be homeless than live in her shoebox of a house.”

“Well, technically, you are homeless.”

“And I’m liking it better than I’ll like living with that woman.”

“She’s not that bad.”

“She is that bad. She wakes up at like five a.m. just to feed her chickens. Her chickens, Spencer! Who does that?”

“Steffy, stop talking about my mother and your grandmother like she’s a bad person or something.” My mom scolds, walking out of the house and towards her Range Rover. Seems every-fucking-one but me got to keep their cars. Granted, I am the youngest in the family, but still.