Meant to Crash | ✓

Chapter Two

"Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but of playing a poor hand well."

-Robert Louis Stevenson 

------

"Admit it, Maddie. We're lost," Akin said in the passenger seat, peering out the window.

Layla fidgeted in the seat directly behind mine. "We've been down this block like three times now."

"No, we haven't," I assured her and turned onto the street my mom had told me to go down. "I've got it under control. Everything is under control."

I was saying it more for myself than for Akin's sake. Because right now, I was definitely not under control. For the past four nights, I'd been waking up with bright sapphires engraved behind my eyelids, not knowing what it meant. And if that didn't make it any worse, we were running late because of my poor sense of directions.

I'd already been in San Francisco for a little less than a year, and I still didn't know who the Lockhart family was. Akin's and Layla didn't waste any time to fill me in during our drive up to the Lockhart Art Center where the banquet would be held.

From what I had learned, the great-grand father, named Richard E. Lockhart, was why the Lockhart's were considered one of the richest families in California, and not just in San Francisco. 

He was a teacher turned household name once people started to take notice to his inventions to make life easier in the late 1800s. Despite me not knowing anything about the Lockhart family, I definitely saw the Lockhart Inc. logos throughout my life, on TV and in stores.

Lockhart Inc. was a respected name brand that sold things from bug spray, cleaning products, air fresheners to even hair products and beautify supplies. The list went on and on. Countless of their merchandise stoked stores nationwide and internationally.

Before Richard E. Lockhart died, he gave his riches to one of his sons, Christopher E. Lockhart, and he eventually gave it over to his own son, Howard E. Lockhart-who would be the only beneficiary of the billion dollar fortune that is Lockhart Incorporated today. Howard then went on to have several children. And sooner than later, as the children grew up, they practically became celebrities in the eyes of this city, watching every move they made, reporting it on tabloids and gossip sites online as they mingled with movie stars and musicians alike and also some royal families. They were the talk of the town whenever a red letter event was held or a scandal erupted.

"Howard has like five kids," Akin informed. "The oldest is Brendon, who's from his first marriage."

"Oh, what went wrong?" I inquired, looking at my friends for the scoop.

"It was a bad marriage and ended up in divorce." There was a sad tone in Akin's voice. "It was never disclosed why they split up to the public, but she fled right after it was finalized, leaving Brendon with his dad. I think he was only three when that happened."

Now I was the one feeling sad, sad for this person I genuinely felt empathy for. My parents divorced when I was young. I knew how it felt, and my mom had ran off on me just the same, leaving me with my dad. Luckily I got to know my mother before all of that happened, whereas Brendon probably didn't remember his.

"Brendon's married now. He doesn't get in much trouble. Which frankly sucks because he's my favorite and I don't really see him blow up on the gossip sites anymore," Akin went on. "Then there's Ava, who is the youngest. And the most recent thing I've heard about her was that she was kicked out of her boarding school in upstate New York. No one knows why yet, but whatever it was, it was clearly a mess her daddy couldn't pay her out of."