The Popularity Project

Chapter Five - Ryder Daniels

I walk up the stairs and am greeted with French styled doors opened against the wall, separating the stairs from my huge room.

The walls are the same light tan as the rest of the house. The floors were a lighter wood color, giving the room a bright and happy feel. Two medium sized windows mirror each other on opposite sides of my room. A large glass door leads out onto a balcony. This glass door lets in the majority of light. Outside the windows I see the empty beach and crystal blue foaming water. I sigh in pleasure. Florida is perfect.

To my left a large white desk with a Mac and swivel type chair reside. My jaw drops, Gemma didn't have to do all of this for me. Approximately five feet from the desk was the most glorious bed imaginable. It was at least a king with a neutral colored comforter. I run and jump onto the bed.

It was more comfortable than it looked. I almost fell asleep just laying on it. I push off the bed though to explore my room more. Across from my bed, a matching bookcase and dresser stood looking glamorous. Both were a light wood, matching the floor. Also a walk-in closet and floor length mirror pleased my inner girl.

The room was otherwise bare. No photos or art hung on the walls. I would have to do something about that. A wooden door on the far side of the room sparked my interest. I walked in and my amazement followed.

It was a bathroom with the same granite countertops as the kitchen. The sink was beautiful in itself, but I was more amazed by the matching bathtub and shower. Both were a caramel colored stone that was accompanied with bronze handles. The bathroom had the same caramel colored stone for flooring. The walls, however were an ocean blue mosaic. It was breathtaking. The walls were a deal breaker for me. If Gemma did all of this in preparation for me, I don't deserve her.

I don't deserve any of this.

"Vivian! It's time for lunch!" Gemma shouts up to me. I smile, Penelope never made me food. I was always on my own or with Ollie when he wasn't working.

The five hour flight was exhausting for some reason. I walk down the stairs and join my cheerful grandma in the beautiful kitchen. I sit on the swiveling stool facing Gemma. The island countertop was cold to the touch.

Gemma hands me a grilled cheese sandwich with pickles. My stomach grumbles. I love grilled cheese.

"Thanks Gemma," I smile and take a bite of the delicious sandwich.

"You are very welcome dear," she smiles and pours a glass of water for her and I. "I know you've been through so much, with your parents and Rosalie..."

I look down at my sandwich. The past is in the past. My parents' death was difficult, of course, but Rosalie's seemed more hurtful. Perhaps it was because Rosalie was my age. She hadn't experienced life yet, my parents had. They fell in love, had a family, and lived the dream life. For a while, at least.

"What could you possibly be sorry for? It wasn't your fault any more than it was mine," I whisper. I hope she hasn't been living with this guilt for the past years like I have. I wouldn't wish that pain and self-loathing on my worst enemy. Not even Damien.

"I should have fought for you and your siblings. Penelope wanted the power and control in that situation," Gemma sighs and sits next to me on the high stool.

"Penelope may have taken lessons directly from tough love, but she wasn't a terrible role model. She made me strong, and I am grateful for that, because without that strength I wouldn't have survived all the curve balls life has thrown at me," I am surprised by my words. Never would I have thought that I would defend Penelope. I mean, she was a self-preserving bitch, but she taught me that when the world is cruel to you, you have to respond as though you're untouchable.