Removed

10

 Narrowed emeralds stare back at me as waves bounce just below my shoulders. I emit a sigh, absentmindedly tugging down my sleeves. Mom and Dad are meeting with the owners of a nail polish company. Apparently, this nail polish is all the rage. They believe this will triple their business. I'm wondering why my presence is required. Or why I'm wearing contacts.

After smoothing down my dress, I amble down the stairs. Dad sighs in relief at the sight of me, ceasing to fiddle with his fancy shirt. Mom immediately yanks open the door, her raven ringlets bouncing in harmony. Dad and I follow her out the door, waiting patiently as she sets the alarm. Once she's finished, we hurry to our car and hop in.

My parents seem in a hurry to be early. They've always wanted to set the best example. Mom's the coordinator and Dad's the negotiator. They're professionals in their element, posed and focused.

Mom lightly grips the wheel, loudly conversing with Dad. They seem to be discussing their business tactics. I clasp and unclasp my hands in my lap. Usually, my parents prefer to handle business without me interfering. I'm perfectly content with that choice. I'd rather sit and write in my journal or eat some ice cream. I'm not overly sophisticated or an expert at perfectly sculpting conversations. I'm that person who quietly sits in a corner and taps away at her watch. I'm the one softly complaining to my parents so their company won't overhear. I'm not someone you want at a business meeting.

We pull into the driveway of a gaudy mansion. A waterfall and lush synthetic plants decorate the spacious front yard. The mansion itself is eggshell white lined with light gray. The whole place screams 'I blew so much money on lavish housing'. Well, not that I wouldn't if the opportunity arose.

"Autumn, are you getting out?"

I blink, my eyes snapping up to catch my mother's icy blue glare. Don't mess with her business opportunities.

Quickly, I hop out of the car and close the door. My parents tread in front of me, feet hurrying to reach the doorstep. An overweight orange cat blinks up at us. He lays in front of the double doors.

Only the rich can afford such pets. He's so beautiful despite his weight. Glossy orange fur is dotted with bright patches of white. His green eyes rival my own, his blinking slower and slower until they remain closed. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the animal tranquil and worry free. If I became a cat, could I escape the complications of my life?

"Oscar, move!" A voice hisses, a bare foot roughly connecting with orange fur. Oscar promptly scampers off, probably eager to find another resting spot.

"That was rude!" I instantly snap, opening my mouth before I even identify the offender. My eyes trail up and muddy orbs seem to glare into my soul. His raven hair is ruffled, yet it doesn't make him look like some greek god. It makes him look like some filthy rich teenager who is too lazy to brush his hair.

My father shoots me a disapprove look before turning back to the teenage jerk bag. "I'm so sorry about her! You must be Jared."

Jared slowly nods, pursing his lips into a thin line.

"Yeah, I am. Please come in."

My parents enter, making sure to wipe their shoes on the 'Welcome to our lovely home!' mat. I stand and watch as they take them off, leaving me behind as they wander further inside.

Jared cocks an eyebrow at me. "Would you care to enter?"

I scoff. "Would you care to be a nicer person?"

"No."

"How can you treat a living animal like that? He was only napping!" I exclaim, placing a hand on my hip.