Poor Little Rich Girl | ✓

Chapter 13: I'm A Pretty Good Listener

Chapter 13: I'm A Pretty Good Listener

The next morning, the sound of my iPhone ringing with a FaceTime request wakes me up from my peaceful slumber. I lift my head from my flat pillow with an irritated look. I was having a really, really nice dream. I was back home in L.A., we were still rich and I was packing for the summer trip to The Bahamas. I reach underneath the ridiculously flat pillow, feeling underneath it for my phone. That’s another flaw with this room. There’s only one pillow on the bed. A flat pillow, as I’ve mentioned. How can I sleep with one flat pillow? I need at least six, three in the back and three in the front for support. I come here and what do I get? One. A stupid white pillow that’s not in the least bit fluffy. In fact, I could probably go sleep on top of the dirty roof and have a more comfortable head.

My phone rings on and my fingers wrap around it, pulling it from underneath the pillow. I peer down at the screen and see that it’s Samuel. I check the time, 9:30 a.m. Why the hell is my stupid boyfriend calling me at 9:30 in the morning? Granted, in Puerto Rico it’s 10:30, but still. The phone rings again in my time - man, I guess he just isn’t gonna hang up until it does it for him. He’s probably wondering why I sent him that ‘I’m sorry’ text last night. I thought I could tell him, you know, confess that I cheated to him today, but I can’t. Especially not over FaceTime. I guess the Wi-Fi’s back on. I can’t stare into his emerald colored green eyes and tell him what I did. I just can’t. Not yet anyway.

So, I hit the decline button and put my phone down. Yes, I’m a wimp. I’m painfully aware of this fact now. I yawn loudly and sigh, pulling my fingers through my hair absentmindedly. I yawn and decide that I haven’t had enough sleep. I barely got eight hours, which is my bare minimum. I was up thinking about what I should do until the wee hours of the morning. I try to get at least ten hours each night. What can I say? A girl’s gotta have her beauty sleep. I mean, it’s not like I need it or anything since I’m already so beautiful, but you can never have enough sleep, right?

There’s a knock on my door and I sigh. So much for going back to sleep. I push myself up on my elbows in the bed and narrow my eyes at the door as the intruder knocks again. Well, I guess I couldn’t really call whoever it is an intruder because an intruder would just come on it, but still.

“What!?”

“Can I come in?” Spencer wonders.

“Sure,” I sigh.

The door opens and my brother walks in with a tired look on his face, his hair sticking up and a pair of gym shorts on. Why he chooses to walk around like that, I don’t know, but I wish he wouldn’t.

“Hey little sister,” He greets, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Hi,” I chirp, trying to sound lively.

“You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you didn’t answer when your boyfriend called, which is rare.”

“How’d you even know that?” I ask, eyebrows raised.

“He called me and asked me if you were sick or still asleep or something.” He explains.

“Oh,” I say, shrugging. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just didn’t wanna talk to him right now.”

“Should I ask why?”

“No,” I reply, shaking my head.

I already feel like crap over it and I don’t want my own brother thinking his baby sister is some kinda dirty whore or something. So, for now I’m keeping this to myself. Well and the few that already know.