Southern Belle

Ch.19 Getting Hammered

**NOMINATE ME FOR FUNNIEST CHARACTER 2012 (BELLE WILKES) PLEASE.  Special Awards voting for the Wattys is ready! Go to the story you want to support, click Report and choose "Nominate a story..." **

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Silence.

We were sitting in this living room for approximately two hours, and we only talked about three times. Apparently, rudeness ran in the family because these rich brats were treating me like I was trash.

"So, Belle, where'd you get your shirt?" Casey, Nick's sister, asked after taking a long sip from her purple mug. "It's awesome."

I looked down at my ratty t-shirt. It was covered in stains, and there happened to be a few tears all over the black fabric. How did the pretty blond girl with the fashionable blazer think my old shirt was cute? It puzzled me.

"Oh, I got it at Wal-mar-te'."

She gasped giddily, acting like Walmart was some sort of high-end store. "Oh my god, really? Mother, we must go there sometime! I think I heard the Kardashians shop there!"

Sarah, Nick's other sibling, rolled her eyes after shooting me a death glare. "Case, you're such an idiot. Walmart is one of those poor people stores. I think they sell farming stuff there," she stated offensively. 

A perplexed look formed on my face. How could Nick be so smart and his sisters be so stupid? He was at the top of his classes, and Casey and Sarah barely understood the concept of sarcasm. Casey continued to think hard for a few more minutes until her sister's answer registered in her brain. She nodded in agreement, and I turned my head towards Nick.

"They're my half sisters. We have the same mom," he groaned, answering my unspoken question. He ran a hand through his tousled mane.

Nick's mother remained quiet. Her cold demeanor didn't exactly make me feel welcome, so I averted my gaze whenever our eyes met. She had on tight, 3/4 sleeve black dress that ended right above her knee. I noticed that Elise owned the same pair of shoes as her—ruby red pumps with a black bow on the top. Her face had strong features; she had cheek bones that could tear your skin to shreds. 

"Very funny, Ms. Wilkes. I wish Nick would've told me that you were coming...Charles doesn't really like Nick's...friends staying in the house with us when he's home." The tone of her voice was soft but had a menacing undertone. The way she paused at the word, friend, made me think that she saw me as one of Nick's bed buddies, not a project partner.

My friend's eyes enlarged, and he nearly spat out the brown liquid in his mouth. "Charles is coming home for New Year's Eve? I thought he would still be with his sister in New York."

Her head shook slightly before she spoke. "Yes, he should be here any minute actually. He texted me saying that he was just about to park his car in the driveway."

The slam of the door and a loud voice catapulted me out of my seat. "Honey, I'm home!"

"Oh, there he is! I told you!"

I tried to keep my mouth shut, but it threatened to drop. I had expected some Greek God to saunter into the room, but instead, an old guy wobbled in. He was definitely at least sixty; whatever grey hair he had left on his head was slicked back, and his back was curved. He was nowhere near attractive.

He leaned in and gave his younger wife a sloppy kiss, and then his head cocked to one side. After dropping his silver cane to the ground, he took a seat in one of the cream leather chairs and propped his feet onto the table.

"And you are?" His accent became more prominent.

And he was British! He kinda looked and sounded like Rob Pattinson high on acid.