Just Another Drifter {BOOK 1 in the 'Just Another' Series}

Chapter 2- Remember My Name

"Don't be ridiculous." Sandy rolls her eyes at me, strutting into the kitchen.

"What? Sandy, why not? I thought we were friends!" I pout.

"We're not friends." She grumbles, slipping on her glasses and opening up her laptop.

"You're just saying that." I scoff.

"I'm really not." She quietly mumbles, but I chose to ignore.

"Anyway, it's a win win for both of us! I get to do what I love, modelling, and you get to do what you love... Photography." I grin.

"For the last time I'm a bloody history student! I study history Kitty, not photography!" She growls before storming out of the room.

"I could dress up as a Roman if you like?" I shout after her.

"No!" She yells, before slamming her bedroom door.

"Alright, okay." I mumble.

Since she won't take the photographs for me, now I'm going to have to pay for very expensive professional ones.

Which is good I guess, but it's with money that I don't have. And you know what that means, yes?

The dreaded parental loan.

I bite down on my lip nervously as I dial my mothers number. After about three rings she picks up, "hello?"

"Hi Mum."

"Hello Kitty." She says sternly, she must know I want something.

"Um, I was.. Just.. Erm... Calling to.. erm.. see how you were!" I exclaim.

"What do you need Kitty?" She groans.

Being a well achieving business woman who is now retired she has never really understood my situation. I don't know why she's so surprised though, we're different in almost everyway.

When her hair was not a light grey, it was a sleek, straight raven black and her eyes are piercing blue. My hair is a contrasting soft blonde with light curls and my eyes are a dark brown.

She is 58 now, she had me when she was 37, late I know, but I am the result of a second marriage.

Anyway whilst her features are prominent, like her sharp thin lips and pointy small nose, mine are softer. I still have killer cheek bones, cat eyes and plump lips but they're just not.. Sharp as you could say my mother's are.

Then there are things like our interests, she always used to talk of her days as an athlete. Swimming, mainly. She won countless medals and was on track to be in the national team, but after her first marriage broke up, everythign fell to pieces, seeing as she was married to her coach, things became un-bearable and so she married my father and had me and went into business.

I don't think she really minds what she does, as long as she's sucessful. Now with a lot of money to her name, a good pension and an eight bedroom house just outside of Cheshire, I think she can say she's been sucessful.

Unlike her, I hate sport, I can not swim for jack and I most certainly wouldn't have the faintest idea of what to do if I was faced with something business-y.

Also, my house is far from the plush Cheshire 'mansion' my parents own. With only two small bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen diner and a small telivision set that was bought from the second hand shop, I barely have a penny to my name.

Of course we have some luxuries, like Sandy's laptop for instance, she saved up for months, but I'm not allowed to go anywhere near it.

And then there's dear old daddy, my father never really has anything to say about it. Honestly, I don't think he really cares. If it's not cricket or Agatha Christie books, he really doesn't give a toss.