"Woah, come on man! You're going to let your girlfriend control you like that?" Jimmy exclaimed. "That's a prime example of you being a perfect target."
"You saw what she did to me!" Chip replied. "She looked me right in the eyes and cast some sort...
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My dark eyes were glued to the ground as I watched my black Converse sneakers trudge along the nicely paved bricks that neatly lined the driveway. My beat up Chucks, along with their tears and stains from adventures from my past life, didn't match the new and expensive neighborhood that I had just moved into. I was already starting to miss my old home, especially my old friends. All this designer decor was starting to give me a migraine and blind my eyes with its sparkles and shine. I was way too used to shitty, suburban neighborhoods. I liked the feel of them more.
As I entered the large gates of my new neighbors' house, I was immediately met with the unmoving stares of many wealthy people. Everyone was dressed in high end fashion and high heels, along with glittering jewelry. I was starting to feel a bit underdressed, but I didn't really care too much. The sudden attention was actually pretty nice.
A loud clink of a glass rang through the speakers that were placed around the large backyard, causing me to stop in my tracks. I turned my head towards the source of the sound and saw a blonde boy around my age, holding a glass of some sparkling liquid and a microphone. The boy smirked as he spoke jokingly, "Relax, Mom, it's only cider." He turned back to the crowd of people in front of him, who were barely paying attention. "Hello, everyone. I'm Chip Pemberton." I feigned a laugh at his ridiculous, rich-sounding name. I swear, every wealthy couple always names their children something extra. "I live right up there," Chip boasted as he raised his glass towards the towering mansion. It was a very nice house, definitely bigger than my own, new mansion. God, I hate mansions. "In the spirit of labor day, let's give it up to the real laborers.. the caterers."
This time I couldn't help but laugh. I chuckled softly as I clapped, catching the eye of the blonde boy himself. His dark eyes widened suddenly as he dropped the glass of cider on the stage. The cup shattered into tiny pieces and sharp shards. My smile dropped slightly as my eyebrows pulled into a look of confusion. I walked away and followed after my parents as they moved up the cement staircase, leaving the petrified boy frozen in his place on the stage.
"It's so nice to finally meet you," a woman wearing a colorful dress exclaimed. Her smile stretched onto her cheeks as she greeted my parents, who held themselves high with a new confidence. They were very proud of their newfound social status, especially when attending parties and events like this.
"It's nice to meet you too, Pamela," my mother replied with equal amount of enthusiasm. Her smile was painted on just like the shade of her red lipstick.
Pamela shook her head. "Please," she said with another smile. "Call me Poodle."
"Oh, of course!" My mom replied. Her and Poodle laughed softly to themselves. I hated how rich people gave themselves stupid nicknames that made no sense. It was almost as bad as when they gave their children stupid names, but not worse because at least their nickname isn't on their birth certificate.
