The Girl he Wants

1- I hate snobs.

"This is the last box with your name on it, sweetheart." Elizabeth Arrington's father tells her as he hands her a heavy box. Taking it in her sore hands, Elizabeth meets her father's gleaming, dark blue eyes. "The movers and I can get the heavy furniture. If I were you, I'd start unpacking."

   "Alright." Elizabeth nods in response. She flashes him a bright smile, and then turns away from the giant moving truck that has boxes stumbling out of the back of it. Her sky blue eyes fall on her new house, and her heart skips a beat. "I can't believe we are actually doing this."

   "I know, right?" Elizabeth's dad answers her. His voice is high with excitement and his words fall from his lips quickly. "I'm glad we're finally moving. Now your brothers don't have to share a room, and your mom can have a craft room."

   Elizabeth's light eyes crawl up the two-story house and her breath is taken away. How her father can afford this house, she doesn't know, but she is glad he can. With walls made of brown panels and the black roof shining in the summer sun, the house stands on a clean-cut, vibrant lawn. A white picket fence surrounds the lawn, flowers sit beneath the house's windows, and a front porch is planted by the front door.

    Elizabeth shakes her head at the perfect scenery, and then gazes out at the long, beautifully paved street. Some kids skateboard by, a few boys play basketball with their shirts off a few houses down, and cars casually roll past Elizabeth's new home. She takes a deep breath, and with a grin plastered across her thick lips, Elizabeth decides she likes the atmosphere. So suburban. So homey. So normal.

   She hears a fierce bark, and her head jerks forward. Chester, the big family dog circles the house like a maniac, barking at squirrels that scurry up and down the few trees that dot the yard. His soft, brown coat of fur glints in the sunlight, and his crazy hazel eyes dart wildly at the animals lurking above him. His pointed ears perk up when the squirrels chatter at him angrily. Elizabeth just rolls her eyes at the dog and starts toward the house.

   Her tennis shoe-covered feet carry her down the stone path to the front porch, and then inside the house. The spotless, wooden floors span through the spacious living room, which is where she kicks off her shoes. The floors also lead to the vacant kitchen, owning a bar and built-in stools, and dining room, which is connected to the kitchen. Both rooms are to the left of the living room, and both are overtly situated and can be viewed from the front door. The garage, which is off to the right, leads to the backyard that stretches far, covered in thick green grass. Directly across from the front door, a carpeted staircase leads to a second floor, wooden railings protecting the sides.

    Elizabeth clomps her way up those stairs, traveling up at a careful speed. The box she grips in her small hands is taller than her head, and probably heavier than she is. Only 122 pounds and 5'5, she could probably fit in the box she is carrying.

When she tiredly reaches the top of the stairs, she waltzes down the empty hallway until she halts at the last door on the left. When she turns into it and drops the box, her sky blue eyes narrow.

   Her two wooden bookshelves stand on the same wall as her doorway, and in the center of the two empty shelves, her desk sits. Against the opposite wall, her sleigh bed is situated in the corner, diagonal to the doorway. Boxes are piled along her walls, and a few rest on her bare bed.

"I have a lot of work to do." She sighs to herself. Not seconds later, she hears footsteps trudging up the staircase outside of her room. When she peeks out her doorway, she spots her two twin brothers, both carrying cardboard boxes. The two of them stand 5'8" with short, brown hair, hazel eyes, and dimple-accompanied smiles. Although they have wide chests, smooth skin, and no defining marks, Elizabeth can tell the two apart almost instantly.