Chapter 3 (Picture Of James)

0 0 0
                                    

Illiana's P.O.V

I woke up to the sound of the blender. I had the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach. I stood up from the couch, I fell asleep watching twilight.

My dad stood there blending his Morning smoothie I could tell he just came from his morning run. I rolled my eyes and walked to the kitchen. I grabbed an apple washed it then bit through it spitefully.

"Good Morning dad, oh good morning daughter. How are? I'm fine and yourself, I'm clearly in one of my moods" He Joked.

"Oh, you remember you had a daughter. . . I thought you thought I was a one way bank account." I said spitefully.

"Hey, that's not fair" he scolded.

"Of course it is! I have a mother and father he can buy me a whole island but clearly I couldn't pay for their attention. . . Wait before you tell me that's not true, perhaps I should use drugs like my brother so I could travel with you. Which drug though, molly? No he went to a psych ward got pushed back out.  .  .Oh Yeah it was coke made you realize or was it the overdose?" I asked sarcastically.

"That's not funny at all! Listen if you want to consistantly travel never settle down and have absolutely no home, then you can come travel with us. I would not complain matter of fact I'd be over joyed!" He screamed.

"Oh okay. So why are you in town?" I asked

"We have a business lunch to attend" he said casually.

"Oh Mom and Illan are here too?" I asked excited to see my brother.

"No, I thought it was better to leave your brother in Venezuela" He said.

The disappointment completely crushed my soul.

11:30 a.m

I put on the dress my dad brought me, lipstick, and mascara. I wore my turquoise vans It went pretty well with the dress.

When I walked down my dad seemed far from impressed.

"Can you wear heels or pumps?" He asked.

"Can I stay home?" I responded.

He sighed knowing that I was not going to wear pumps or heels.
______________________________________________________________________

The house mansion was as big as ours, but there was a warmth, a warmth that ours was always missing. The walls were white other than a pouder blue section with pictures and on top it wrote Wall Of Memories.

Damn.

A piece of my heart went dark knowing even if my family had this there'd only be a few pictures from a time I can't remember.

"Hello" Stephen greeted

"Hi" I greeted back.

I'm not surprised we're at his house, I know my parents work with his dad. I know he's super popular but I never really cared about those type of things, I had no ill feelings towards him nor do I admire. He's just a guy I go to school with.

"Hi, I'm so sorry I was making sure our New Yorken Cheesecake came out perfect." An older lady I assume is his mom said.

"Oh wow it smells great" my father smiled.

"Yeah, I can't remember the last time I smelt a home cooked meal" I scoffed.

The were all shocked.

"She's just kidding. She has one made everyday" he said.

"Yeah the chef makes sure he makes the best food" I mocked.

They all awkwardly laughed.
Stephen's mother lead us to the dining room.

Our ScriptWhere stories live. Discover now