Pregnant at 15

Swerving at 15

Zoe:

"Zoe! Honey! You're going to be late to your first day at James if you don't wake up right now!" My mother yelled from the intercom that was installed into my room.

I hit the speaker with a pillow and groaned. God I hate mornings, they are probably the worst thing that was ever created. Next to first days of school. Which really suck if you're the new student. But I had an advantage, everyone knew my name.

Zoe Taylor was on almost every magazine that you could think of.

Vogue said I was a fashion icon in the making.

Seventeen Magazine said I was an inspiration to the new generation.

Even Jet Magazine said I would look great with an African American man.

And all that just because my father's family was stinking rich from all the gold they got from the gold rush. Then they started to invest money into anything they could invest into. Then bam.

Billionaires.

I don't know what I would do without my money. It was apart of me. It was like my title.

Zoe Taylor. Billionaire.

I got out of my bed with a lot of grunts and curses. Walked into my huge bathroom with walls painted a light pink, that was a little too frilly for me now, with matching white shower and bath tub. I reached into my glass medicine cabinet and grabbed my vibrating tooth brush.

After I brushed my teeth and smiled at my reflection a few times, I brushed out my hair and put on my lavender lotions. I walked back into my room and grabbed the uniform, it slid onto my body perfectly. Just like everything else I owned.

And for a moment, I felt like a normal teenage girl who was getting ready for school. Not the pregnant daughter of a billionaire. I shook my head of the thoughts that were rushing into my head.

Grabbing my favorite purple backpack, I jogged out of my room. My mother was frowning at her watch and tapping her foot impatiently. " You really shouldn't frown mother. You don't want more wrinkles do you?" I smirked.

She was about to yell at me when my father walked in. "Princess." he smoothly said in his Puerto Rican accent. His strong build and peppered grey and black hair was the same as it was when he left for France to a business meeting a few weeks ago. Im pretty sure he was just screwing French hookers again.

It wasn't weird that he left for awhile, he did this a few times every year. The ladies just couldn't resist a half white half Mexican man who was nicely built and a bank account that could probably buy half of Russia.

I ran to him and jumped in his arms, I ignored the scent of cheap target perfume that must of lingered into his clothes by another woman, while he spun me around while hugging me. He put me back to the ground lightly and kissed my forehead. " How was your trip to France?" I asked him.

He paused for a moment and adjusted his tie. " I got a lot of work done, it was very successful." he cleared his throat and looked to my mother. Who was still a looker with her blonde hair and blue eyes, but had some wrinkles and whose hair was starting to turn gray and the roots.

She stood there quietly with a fake grin on her face, she always looked like a Stepford Wife when my father was around. But I think we all know how that one worked out.

"We must be going, school will be starting soon. Your bags are in the limo." My mother said while walking out of the house, her heels were replaced with bright blue flats and her usual pants suit was replaced with a flowery white dress.