Arranged Marriage is just for Indians..... Right?

Arranged Marriage is just for Indians..... Right?

CHAPTER ONE

"I feel so free, Marcus!" I cry. I whip my hands out into the air and spill some of my "apple juice" onto the dirt. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, relishing the smell of the clean air. Strong, tattoed arms wrap themselves around my torso. "Don't fall, babe. we wouldn't want to get my new Ed Hardy shirt dirty with your gouts on it, would you?" Marcus, my latest toy, purrs in my ear. 

I smile in contentment. That shirt was just too easy to steal. You would think such an expensive store would have better security. "no, no we wouldn't!" I growl and turn around, trying to find Marcus' mouth.

Accidentally taking a step back, I feel air, no solid ground beneath me. My body responds to the opposing gravity, and I start to slip down the 200 foot high cliff I thought was so clever to climb. I scream a little and start to pull Marcus with me. I hear a shriek from the other girls who were away from the edge.  

"M-Marcus, help me! Plea-" im cut off as I see him pry my fingers off his biceps and let go. He steps away from the edge and i slip faster and faster, hitting brambles, dirt,and rocks. I use my heels to try and break my fall, but it only helps a little. 

I make no sound, trying to be brave, and I grab a root from the ground. I stop abruptly and just dangle. Daring to peer down, I see there is still at least another hundred feet to go before I meet my demise on the jagged, horrific-looking rocks below. 

I slowly, ever so slowly slip, two or three feet at a time. I peer up. No sign of the group I was with. Pieces of shit. I own them, taught them how to do everything their parents hate, and this is the thanks I get?? fuck them. Im gonna kill them. Or maybe leave a copy of our video tapes of us just "studying" on their doorsteps. Maybe I'm gonna- 

My feet hit solid, blissfully horizontal ground. I breathe a sigh of relief and let my heart stop pounding. I was't going to admit it, but i was scared to death! 

I navigate the rocks until I find my white '11 Mustang Shelby GT with red racing stripes. I scan the parking lot and see that no one elses car is here. Lame. 

Driving downtown to my house in Highland Hills, I try to think of a badass reason for why I'm like this. My parents still think im out with Lucy. Or that I'm even still friends with Lucy. Maybe i got in a street fight. Maybe I decided i wanted to climb the cliff. Maybe I just did whatever the heck i wanted to! 

They won't do anything. They never have. I'm moving in with Josh and Callahan next semester and getting a job at Olive Garden and they'll support it. They'll pay for the damage I do and pick up the pieces. It's a fabulous lifestyle, really. 

I turn into our gated house entrance and ring the call button. "Late again, Mrs. Kensington?" our house manager (nice term for butler) sighs exaspiratedly from the intercom. "You know it, Mr. C!!" Mr. Clearwater has been our butler for years. He's like the father I've actually ever liked. I have more memories of him than of my real father. 

"can you buzz me in?" I yell, trying to lace my words with annoyance. I have a really hard time keeping up my bad attitude with him. But I can't be unfair, now can I? "Yes, of course, but your parents have been awaiting your arrival. They have important matters to discuss with you." he says with severity. " Yeah sure, whatever." I glance at the clock. 3 A.M. Impressive. They might actually start....... Caring.

I throw up a little in my mouth.  

I pull the car up the winding cobblestone road to the rotating garage tableturner and fit my car into slot 6. I slide out and press the specified key on my keyring. The table rotates to stop on our ATV garage, and I roll a few out and scatter them, putting them in the way I do it just to annoy my dad when he goes to work later this morning. I grin to myself. 

I climb a few white steps to our front door. The 20 foot high pillars on either side are so flashy. My contempt for my parents stirs a little in my chest. Inserting the key to our marble door and stepping in, I expect to see my parents waiting to punish me. to my surprise, the foyer is empty. I chuckle dryly. They must expect me to go to their wing of the house to talk. Yeah right. 

The mosaic Persian rug which sits on our marble floor is now smudged with dirt from my shoes. That will be almost impossible to get out. Perfect! I climb one of our grand staircases to the west wing, my area of the house. I am so looking forward to my bed. I feel bruises forming over every inch of my body.

Check "body surfing over the edge of a cliff" off my bucket list.

I tiptoe the shag carpet and rose wood floors to my bedroom. I feel for my door handle and push on it, revealing my room inside. I sigh with relief and exhaust and switch on my light to find a hideous shock. 

"MOM! Dad? What are you DOING in here?" i Shriek angrily.. My mother and father sit on the edge of my King-sized four poster bed, staring at me expectantly. "Dear, we need to talk." my mother says grimly. I growl in protest. "No, I really don't think we do." My father stands up and steps forward. I wince, thinking he is going to remove my sunglasses. He would notice how bloodshot they are. Instead, he shuts the door behind me and presses the intercom button attached near my door. 

That'll be all, Miles. Kylie is in. Goodnight." he speaks into the door. He turns towards me and says, "Yes, I think we do." gently but firmly, he commands. I find it hard to resist. "Fine. Five minutes. I'm soo tired," i say, faking a yawn. They aren't fooled.

"We need to talk about your future, Ky." my mother whispers. I can see being up this late is doing much for her chemotherapy. I feel bad for a minute and then realize she has a business trip for three weeks tomorrow. Sympathy reaches its limits with these two. 

"What about it?" i say nonchalantly, striding over to my walk in, incredibly huge closet to pick out some pajamas. My father speaks next.

"We don't think you should move in with those boys." I laugh lightly and spin around. "And you think you can stop me? It's my life." I say dangerously.

"We understand, but we can't allow you to do that with our new plan we've set in motion. You're out of control. So we have finalized something we have been contemplating since you were born." My mother says, rising from my bed and standing next to my dad. 

I stop in my tracks. This doesn't sound good. I approach the subject cautiously. "What kind of.. "plan"?" my parents look at each other and then at me. "better to just get it over with." My father sighs.

"Kylie, you're going to move to London. We have arranged for you to marry a duke in England. You leave in two days." 

The room spins. I drop my cashmere pajamas and feel the floor sliding beneath me. i let out a cry as I land with a thud on the floor. My fathers voice is distant and unimportant. I pull myself up, dart from my room, and sprint to my bathroom. I Whip off my Ray Bans and look at mysel in the mirror. How had it come to this? Why? If only I would have known...

Do you ever wish you could use a time machine? Just once? Maybe if you hadn't told that lie, or cheated on that test. Your life would be so much different. Maybe you wouldn't be at rock bottom.