Poor Little Rich Girl | ✓

Chapter 24: I Don't Like This Conversation

Author's Note: Ah, gosh, I know I missed like, two days that I was supposed to update. But I had a ridiculously sad case of writers block, and I re-wrote this chapter like, eleven times, so hopefully this chapter is good. Please comment and vote, please, please, please! Also, I recently started a new story and it's called Like Crazy so, that'd be cool if you checked it out and whatnot. Monday I'll be started the sequel to Serendipity called Give Me Love, so be sure to check that out if you were a Serendipity reader. There's only gonna be seven more chapters of this story after this one and an epilogue if things go how I'm hoping that they will. Okay, yeah, that's it. The regular updating schedule of Tuesdays and Fridays should resume now, unless I hit wb again. Anyways, happy reading, lovelies. ♥

Chapter 24: I Don't Like This Conversation

“This is so disgusting,” I murmur to myself as I yank down on Daisy’s udders.

Yes, I’m back in the barn, unfortunately, that is. It’s like, 7:30 a.m., and just when I was beginning to think that my grandmother wasn’t a totally crazy old crow, she reverted back to her old habits of waking me up with that stupid air horn. I’m going to steal it from her and then like, bury it in the field. Or better yet, hide it here in the barn. She’d never find it here because she never gets off of her ass and actually comes down here now that she has her own two personal slaves— Spencer and myself. Well, more like just me because it’s obvious that she likes Spencer a lot more than she likes me. Which I don’t care about, but still.

Not to mention the fact that he really doesn’t have to do chores that much anymore, which is completely unfair. I mean, sometimes he does have to do chores, but they’re usually really petty and insignificant. Like, sometimes he has to mop or wash the dishes and stuff like that, which is pretty much nothing considering what I have to do. In my grandmother’s defense though, this is the first time that I’ve done chores in the nearly three weeks that it’s been since the paparazzi oh so rudely bomb rushed.

Peering down into the tall grey pail centered directly below Daisy’s udders, I see that it’s nearly full now, meaning that I can stop now. I stand up from the tiny stool and cringe when my knees pop. I hate that tiny little stool. It’s literally such a stupid thing, the chair that is. It’s abou two feet off of the ground— I’d be better off just sitting on the barn floor for all the relief the stool gives me.

I pick up the pail in disgust, wrinkling my nose as the stench hits my nose. Milk straight out of the cow isn’t the most pleasant smell, you know. I grab the bucket and walk it across the barn, effectively spilling a bit of it on the ground as I put it where it’s supposed to go. I’m about to go over to the huge feeding bag to the four cows, but my phone rings in the back pocket of my skinny jeans. Who it is calling me this early in the morning, I don’t know, but whoever it is, I’m happy for the interruption. I pull my iPhone out of my back pocket and answer it immediately without bothering to check the Caller I.D.

“Hello?” I answer the phone, using the back of my empty hand to wipe my forehead clean of the thin layer of sweat. Stupid labor.

“Good morning,” Wesley chirps into the speaker.

“Wesley!” I exclaim as I place his voice, a smile forming on my face instantly.

I mean, yeah, I do talk to him every day— he is my boyfriend, after all— but I still get really, really excited whenever he calls me. I don’t even know why though. I mean, Samuel never really called me like, ever when we were together, so I guess that’s why I like it when Wesley does. Sam would text me a lot and even that usually wasn’t enough for him, he constantly wanted us to be FaceTiming or together at the same place. It’s was pretty weird now that I look back on it. Weird and unusual. Anyways, back to my adorable boyfriend. We’ve been dating for exactly one week now, so that’s pretty cool. The thing I like about it though is that we’re still exactly how we were when we were just friends, Wesley and me. Well, we kiss and grope a lot more now, of course, but that’s all that’s changed, really.