Fairylicious (Book 1)
Tiffany Nicole Smith
Chapter 1
Bad Apples
"B . . . E . . . X," I said to myself as I traced the wooden letters on my bedroom wall with the dusting cloth. That was my name; never Rebecca, or Becca, and definitely not Becky. The only person who refused to call me Bex was my sixth-grade homeroom teacher, Ms. Warbler. On the first day of school I told her to feel free to use my nickname. Her response was, "I will not call you by that ridiculous name." That should have been my first warning that she would hate me. I mean this woman hates me.
"Bex, are you almost done?" I heard my Nana call. "Aunt Alice and Aunt Jeanie are on the way for lunch."
"Yay, Aunt Alice and Aunt Meanie," I said to myself. My grandmother always invited my two aunts over for lunch every Saturday afternoon. I absolutely adored my Aunt Alice. I felt like she was the only grown up who understood me, besides my language arts teacher, Ms. Garrett. But Aunt Jeanie, ew. I don't even know where to begin with that one. She always acted like my little sister Reagan and I were unwanted fleas and her family was so perfect. I prayed that she didn't bring her horrible triplets. The doorbell rang, signaling their presence, so I went to get my sister.
"Come on, Ray. It's time for lunch."
My sister Reagan was stretched out on her pink bedspread staring at the ceiling. She was supposed to be cleaning her room too, but toys and clothes were still scattered everywhere. I wondered how a tiny six-year-old could make such a big mess. There was even a jacket thrown over the tall floor lamp that stood in one corner of the room. I yanked the jacket off. "Don't you know that this can cause a fire? And Nana's going to get you for not cleaning your room."
"Yeah, yeah. Nana's always gonna get me," Ray answered.
I pulled her from the bed and dragged her downstairs, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw that the kitchen was free of my aunt's three little demons. Nana was busy at the counter stacking sandwiches on a plate. I ran straight to my Aunt Alice first, as always. This probably made my Aunt Jeanie jealous, but I didn't care. As Aunt Alice pulled me into a hug, her long brown hair tickled my face. I looked up into her large brown eyes and she stared at me warmly.
"How are you?" she mouthed to me.
"Okay," I mouthed back.
I thought my Aunt Alice was one of the prettiest ladies I'd ever seen, along with Ms. Garrett. Aunt Alice was twenty-seven years old and the baby of the family. Aunt Jeanie was the oldest, but she never told anyone her age, and my mother fell in the middle, but I don't like to talk about her. Aunt Alice pushed me toward Aunt Jeanie.
Aunt Jeanie looked me up and down every time she saw me.
"Now, Bex. Did you even bother to run a brush through your hair today?" my Aunt Jeanie scolded. "People would kill for this hair. They dye their hair to get this color and you don't even take care of it."
