Lesbian Academy (Girlxgirl, Lesbian)

ADVERT! Hell yeah. New Book

This is not a chapter about L. A. I told you last week that I'll be resting today. The next series of posts will be from a new book I'm working on that will be published in September via Amazon select. All copyrights to me. It will not be released in Wattpad until December because it will be locked to Amazon. :)  I'm also urging you to vote for every book of mine you come across here or comment more because that will help me make free books for you in the future. Without much ado, here are the first few chapters of my new book. Hope you support it in September on Amazon. Meow! Oh, and it's in the DRAFT stage so don't mind the errors if you see some.

Chapter 1

My journey to a magical world came in the form of three envelops in different colors. A day after I was crowned homecoming queen, blurry eyed, mascara still on because I was too tired to wipe it clean with a makeup remover, my doting mother of eighteen years (ha!) sent the house help to fetch me. "Your mother wishes to see you," she said, opening the curtains. One should never keep a Roth waiting, my mom even so, rousing me out of bed. Mother was in her red silk robe, sipping her tea when I came to the parlor, concentrated on the stock market report on her Smartphone.

You could conclude a lot about me based from that one paragraph, if I haven't put you to sleep yet. I was eighteen, came from money, and considered attractive in most places except for an island in the south we visited once. They preferred shorter girls with tanner skin tone and straight black hair. I wasn't any of those. In fact, let's get the character descriptions out of the way early in the story. I was taller than most girls, shorter than some. My nose was neither large nor awkward on my face, just right. My hair color would depend on the season. Summer it was lighter. The opposite on winter. As for my eyes, they were a pleasant grey. Not charcoal grey but a lighter Marengo.

My parents looked a lot like me. In fact everyone in our family sort of looked like me, except I'm softer on the eyes. Our similar appearance had caused countless articles to be published both online and in magazines about how we married our cousins and relatives to preserve the family money. It could have been true in the previous generations, but God damn it if I were to marry my brother. That practice had been abolished in years past. Goodness!

And if you were to ask about modesty, it had been nonexistent since Mr. Roth, my banker father, told me that it would get me nowhere in life. "We're a family of go-getters," he said in the autumn of 2005, on my 7th birthday. "Modesty didn't make your grandfather's father rich, nor it had gotten me to the top. One day you and your brother will get all our assets and properties. I want you to understand that playing with modesty will not bid you well." Needless to say, my modesty went out the window at that age, though my brother was able to retain a lot of his.

Where were we in the story? Ah! I was telling you about how I went downstairs to talk to my mother who had summoned me from restful sleep. Mommy placed her phone on the sofa when she heard me come in. Money was gold, but Roth's were priceless, as they said. We made it a point to let go of everything when talking to each other. "Congratulations on your homecoming queen award," she said. "I told you they'll love your gown. It took Donatella three months to complete it. How did Bjorn fare?"

"I broke up with him," I said, keeping a straight face. "It was good while it lasted." Bjorn was my Viking of a boyfriend. He was tall, popular, muscular, and we were over. Mom frowned before quickly rearranging her features. Among the three other boys I brought home for formal introductions, she had liked Bjorn the most. Mainly because he tried hard to please me. "It wouldn't have worked out with us. We're off to college soon." It wasn't a secret that more than 50% of high school relationships wouldn't sail off in college because of the long distance and different culture. I was being realistic. I was a Roth.

Mother seemed to realize that too as she nodded to herself and took envelops, three of them, from the glass table. "These arrived yesterday afternoon when you were getting ready for the party. I didn't have the heart to take you away from the joy of womanly preparations, so I hid them from sight." I wouldn't have fuzzed over those envelops even if I saw them yesterday, I wanted to say. Instead, I waited for her to reach out to me on the other side of the table, briefly noticing her red nail polish before I accepted the papers. "Read them," she urged.