Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

As we stepped out of the car, I put my hands to my face to shield my eyes. I know you’re probably wondering how come I can make as many expensive purchases at my will. You don’t want to know? Well suck it up, buttercup. My mother has a few jobs like being a doctor, lawyer and real estate agent. Very busy, I know. She works at home for the most part while my dad is a famous producer. He’s produced movies from the Shrek series, Twilight, to Harry Potter. You can pretty much say that he’s loaded.

Which obviously means I am as well. As you can tell, money is not an object but I don’t take advantage of it. If it was up to me, my closet would be filled with converse, sweat pants and graphic tees. But when you live with my friends and my mother, that is pretty much voodoo to them. So therefore I'm not spoiled like some people I know that spells their name like J, A, D, A.

Honestly, I can tell you right now that she’s a spoiled bitch all the way. And that should be taken to note because I hardly ever call people names nor swear. To me, it’s pointless. Why use common words that people understand when you could diss them in ineligible ways? Seee, I'm a smart cookie.

I'm totally satisfied with my life so that’s the main reason why I come to the mall occasionally to do a bit of window shopping. Snapping out of my inner ranting, I came to see the devil himself. Oops, I mean herself. As you can already tell, I hate this girl to the bone and I have every reason to really. We’re complete opposites; and not in a good way.

I barely wear makeup, she wears ship loads of it.

I can sing, dance, play multiple instruments while the list goes on and on, all she can do is text.

No joke.

She can’t even cheerlead! Now that should say something.

I'm fairly educated, she can’t even tell that 2x8 is the same as 8x2. She’s the true definition of ‘dumb blonde’ [No offense to blonds though, I bet you’re all smart and beautiful. But I can’t say that about Jada because that would be lying....] Yet she’s not even a blonde.

I have friends that actually care about my well being, she only has “friends” that care about her money and if she’ll buy stuff for them. Why would I want to hang out with a bad influence for myself? I am in no way trying to brag, but you can tell that she’s got snobby written all over her. It’d take years upon years to list all the advantages I have over her but I gotta give you the biggest one.

You know how to diss someone right? Well she doesn’t know the meaning because any time she attempts to, it ends up vice versa yet she keeps coming for more! I don’t know if she’s deaf or anything along those lines, but she never leaves me alone. As suspected, once she caught sight of us she sauntered over with what she calls ‘a dress.’ More like a cropped top if you ask me.

She didn’t exactly make her way straight to us but she walked closed enough to be in earshot and started talking really loud.

“I heard Justin Bieber’s going to be in our town. Since everyone always talks about me I’m sure he’s bound to hear about me and want to meet up. Then we’ll fall in love and get married in the fall. While we have an outdoor wedding with brightly coloured leaves at the altar. And our babies are going to be drop dead sexy. Not even the hospital will be able to handle all that smexxi.” She comments. After she said that, I scoffed to myself, “Like I care. It’s not like he’ll be prancing around our neighbourhood.”

Bre and Ania let out nervous chuckles as they sent each other side glances. It’s either they know something I don’t, or they’re just scared what the topic of Justin Dickhead will lead to.  Probably the latter.

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