A Minor Offense

Stephanie's

Chapter 11:

I still didn't want to go back to mom's.  It pained me to think she hadn't even noticed my absence.  No text, no calls.  I had one more night to stay up late before work in two days, and I decided to waste it at stephanies.  

I missed my mom a lot.  I never thought I'd think of going to our house and be filled with a sincere feeling of distaste.  She was suppouse to be my best friend.  My mother wasn't suppose to lock herself in her room and god forbid, avoid me, as if I was the black plague.  

I blinked past tears as I knocked on stephanie's door.  Her doorbell was broken, and we swore to her mother we had nothing to do with it, but of course we did.  I rolled my eyes at the memory.  I was surprised that they hadn't gotten it fixed right away.

"ARIELLE! You can't just go MIA and show up on my front stoop."  Stephanie huffed.

She was beautiful.  Her hair was long and blonde, almost as long as mine.  She had her tanned arms crossed over her chest, large expressive grey eyes (often mistaken for being blue), and a body to kill for.  She raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow at me, waiting for an explanation.

"Of course I can.  That's why you're my bestfriend."  With one final eyeroll, she had me by my arm and pulled me into her large house.  Not that I wasn't comftorable at her house, I honestly was, I just felt a little out of place.

She was bloody rich for gods sakes.  I, on the other hand, was not.  It certainley was not my lifestyle.

I sucked in a large breath every time I went into Stephanie's house.  It was so grand, so grand that I could only be slightly envious of the opulent and lavish home.  The entrance of her house was as big as a five star hotel lobby.  On both sides were two large white marble staircases, spiraling to the top where they had about ten rooms.

The walls were sickingly white, whiter than hospital white.  On every wall hung some ostentatious fancy painting, family portraits, even framed awards from their jobs.  The floor was top of the notch marble as well, and I always feared slipping and falling on it.  That would hurt like a bitch. 

Her parents were big shot lawyers.  I loved her family, I honestly did.  It was just that Stephanie's parents were a bit too superficial for my liking.  For me, all of the cars (sixteen of them), the paintings, the vacations were all very superfluous to me.

"Hello Ms.James! Haven't seen you in quite some time!"  Lupita, their maid, warmly said to me.  

"Lupita,"  I playfully scolded, "How many times have I told you to call me Arielle?  I've missed you too."  She cupped my cheeks in her wrinkled hands and smiled at me. 

"Still beautiful."  

"I know you are."  She turned a shade of pink and got back to work.

I always told Stephanie it was totally stereotypical of her to have a maid named Lupita.  I mean, how damn cliche can she get?  Lupita was used to being treated as 'the help'.   Not that Stephanie and her parents didn't make her feel welcomed and weren't nice, they were, but it was still as if they didn't see her as a person.  Well, Stephanie did.  Certainitly not her parents.

Her parents don't even allow her to eat with them.  If it wasn't for the fact that Stephanie ate with her she'd be all alone in the kitchen.  Her parents didn't care that stephanie sat with her at all.  When ever I'm over me and Stephanie eat with her in the kitchen.

Her parents don't ask Lupita how her day was or anything.  They honestly just see her as the help, and I refused to see her that way.

"You've got some explaining to do, missy."  Stephanie reprimanded, dragging me up her spiral marble steps.