Pretty, Little, Rich Girl

High School Boys

Slipping the keys into the ignition of my white Jeep, I quickly sent a text to Madison; letting her know that I'd be at her house in under 10 minutes. The engine roared to life, giving me the signal to get going. Yet, I was too busy checking my French tips to bother.

"Hmmmm....I need to get my left pinkie fixed." I murmured to myself as I noticed the chip in the cute, little white tip.

Hitting the pedal, I drove quickly and not very well, towards Madison's block.

The thing is, I'm only 15. Technically, I shouldn't be on the roads yet. But daddy said as long as I'm careful, he doesn't mind.

"Hello Loser!" Madison chirped bounding into the truck.

"Hey Hey Hey!" I said, just as cheerful.

Madison and I have been friends since the 6th grade. I remember it like yesterday. We both came to school wearing the EXACT same outfit. All the way down to our hair.

*flashback*

I waved good-bye to my nanny and ran out onto the playground, my hand gripped tightly on my lunch box.

"Morgan!" my friend Brooklyn had called.  

"Brookieeee!" I ran over to her and hugged her tight. She had spent that summer in Greek, to visit her ill grandmother.

"There's a new girl in our class and she has the SAME outfit as you on!" I remember her whispering urgently in my ear.

"WHERE IS THAT LITTLE COPYCAT?!?" I screamed, my blood boiling. I was the trendsetter. I was the most popular. I was the richest kid in the school! No way was someone going to take my crown. ESPECIALLY, not a new girl...

I spotted as girl, just a bit shorter than me, not too far from where I stood by the hopscotch.

Angrily, I stomped over. My blood pressure raising by the second.

"Who-"

"Hi! I'm Madison"

For a second I had forgotten why I had come to talk to her. She was way prettier than me and had the sweetest voice. Her long, dark, silky hair trailed down to her waist and she had flat ironed it.

Snapping back Ito reality I exclaimed; "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STEALING MY STYLE?!?"

She giggled. "My dad works at the shops downtown! He gets alllll my clothes there!"

So, she's rich too. I remember thinking how I would have to fight her for my claim as Miss Popular. I couldn't fight this dainty little, doll-faced girl.

I took a deep breath. "Welcome to Beverly Hills Madison."

And next thing I knew, we were best friends.

*back to the present*

"So, where's HE staying for Thanksgiving?" Madison asked.

"HE should be getting a hotel. And if he EVER-EVER thinks about staying in MY house; than he better have life insurance!"

I shivered at just the thought of HIM living in my house for a week. Can you say EEEW?!?

Oh! HE/HIM is my (ugh) step-brother. His name is Harry. He's a jerk with curly hair and lots of money. To be honest, he is a NERD, GEEK, SCHOOL JUNKIE!

Want to know why I despise his guts?

*sigh* Let's make this short, ok? When I was 9 and he was 11, we were best friends. BEST friends. (that's how his mom and my dad met.)

I had a crush on him but we were too much like brother and sister to date. AND WE WERE KIDS FOR GOD'S SAKE!

Anway, my real mom had just died, I was getting bullied, and my dad was losing money fast because of all the divorce expenses.

But the bullying was the worst. Everyday all the kids at the school would tease me, beat me up, threaten me. I would come home with bruises, cuts, and my designer clothes were ripped!

That's when my eating disorder started. I was farrrrr from fat, but after being called fat and worthless everyday; what was I supposed to do?

Harry knew. I knew he knew. We could read each other like a Dr. Seuss book.

About 2 months in, I had lost 43 pounds and weighed 40. At 10, that's not good. My ribs would be seen, my collar bones, my cheek bones were prominent against my scarred skin.

"Morgan. You have an eating disorder?" my dad asked astonished.

Harry turned away, too embarrassed to show his face. I couldn't believe him.That little backstabbing traitor!

Not only that, but a few weeks later HE JOINED IN ON THE BULLYING! He claimed it was because he didn't know how to act around me or something like that.

But from then on, we hated each other.

And now, we're "siblings".

"Morgan! Let's go! We are going to be late for school." Madison cried.

"Babe, when have we ever been 'on time' for school?" I said shooting her a 'duh' look.

"Sooooooo... let's head to Starbucks!" she squealed and I hit the gas. My Jeep bounding down the main highways of California.

School is well, boring. School is HIS thing. Not mine. I prefer get my nails done. If there was a class in shopping, I'd be Valedictorian!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

HELLO OCTOPUSSIES!!!

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