Falling In Love with a Bad Boy !

Chapter 2 - All that Glitters is not Pink

Annabeth's POV💖

I sat on my new bed, testing it out. It didn't feel plush at all—or maybe it was, and I was just biased because I missed my old bedroom. I lay flat, spreading my blonde hair behind me, and stared at the walls with a sigh. They were pink, bright pink, and honestly, they were giving me a migraine.

I lay back down and sighed again, biting my lip in frustration as I looked around the room. Mum had bought this house, and she made sure the workers gave my room the pinkest of pink decor. Everything—from the carpet to the drapes to the furniture—was pink. The funniest thing was, pink wasn't even my favorite color, but I don't think Mum knew or even cared. I had already unpacked all my stuff and talked to both Sven and Kimberly for a few hours. Now I was just lying on my bed until dinner, feeling sorry for myself and dreading school tomorrow.

"Annabeth!" I heard Mum calling from downstairs. "Come down for dinner."

She never called me Anna or Beth. It was always Annabeth, which used to annoy me to no end. All my friends had cute nicknames from their parents, but Mum never called me anything other than Annabeth. Occasionally, when we had company, she'd call me darling, which was even more infuriating.

I stood up, stretched lazily, and walked to the mirror to inspect myself. I was petite and had the same slim figure as Mum, but unfortunately, I was blessed with bigger boobs than her. She considered them my biggest assets.

I cringed, remembering one night when she'd had a few too many wines at dinner. She'd slurred, "Annabeth, with those breasts, you'll snag a richer man than I did. I'm so happy for you. Those will make your future." That was when I started hating my breasts. I didn't want a man to fall in love with me for my breasts. I was a huge romantic, reading all these sappy romance novels that Sven and Kimberly always made fun of me for. Deep down, I fantasized about a strong, intelligent, and kind man falling in love with me for who I was, not what I looked like.

But I was scared to give people a chance to get to know me. Although I was pretty and had many friends at school, the only two who knew me well were Sven and Kimberly. Quite a few boys were interested in me at my old school, but my mother's disapproval always stopped me from getting to know them.

Subconsciously, I knew that I only ever had the option of selecting Jeremy, or Mum would have made my life hell. I don't think I ever really liked Jeremy; he seemed superficial and never wanted to get to know me on our few dates. For him, I was just a pretty thing to show off. I put up with it, dying inside, just to have some peace and quiet at home.

"Annabeth!" Mum's shrill voice jolted me out of my reverie. "Come down for dinner this instant! You have school tomorrow, and you need to sleep early, wake early, and dress to kill. I won't have you going to school with bags under your eyes."

I sighed, straightened my Mickey Mouse red shirt and shorts, and piled my long blonde hair into a messy bun. I trudged downstairs, passing by all the family photos—or "portraits," as she called them. I glanced at them; in every single one, we all looked plastic with our perfect outfits, hair in place, and fake smiles, almost as if we were frozen in eternal pretend happiness.

I saw Mum seated at the table, drinking a glass of wine. I rolled my eyes, preparing myself. "Great, now she's going to start with her lecturing," I mumbled, sitting down and helping myself to the plate of grilled fish and salad she had already served for me.

She always had my food ready on a plate, and I was never allowed to eat more than she served. "It's the perfect portion for your perfect posture," she used to say, and I never contested her. I remembered once sneaking a burger with Amelie and Sven, and when she found out, she almost screamed my ear off. I had to go without dinner that evening and breakfast the next day, along with a half-hour squat exercise to burn the calories. Ever since then, I was super cautious. Although I still ate junk food, I made sure it was outside and always lied to her that I had salads.

I started eating. The only sounds were my fork scraping the plate and the wine glass clinking against Mum's bracelets as she drank.

"So, Annabeth," she slurred. I stopped eating and looked up at her, my face a mask of indifference, waiting for the onslaught of her speech.

She smiled, examining me like one of her prized possessions. "You're starting a new school, and everyone will be looking at you to see if you're perfect. You have to be perfect," she paused, letting the statement sink in, then continued. "You are Mary Leanne's daughter, after all, and I was—and still am—the top supermodel that has ever graced fashion week." She stopped, staring straight into my eyes.

"Now, all you need to do: Number one, make it into the cheerleading squad. Number two, keep some decent grades, nothing too fancy. No one likes a geeky girl. Trust me, being intelligent is such a turn-off for boys. Number three, make some pretty and rich friends, not like the lame loser ones you had before." She scrunched her nose and took a big swig from the wine glass.

"And lastly, Annabeth, find yourself a new fancy, rich, handsome boyfriend. One who can pay for everything. Hang onto him. Don't sleep with him too early; just keep those legs closed and when the time is right, bam." She opened her hands wide, spilling some wine on the carpet.

I stared at Mum, imagining her in slow motion, watching her speak animatedly with wine sloshing out of the glass occasionally. Slowly, I stood up, my appetite half gone. She stopped her monologue, staring at me curiously.

"What's wrong, Annabeth? Aren't you finishing your dinner?" She cocked her head at me.

I smiled tightly. "I, umm, need to sleep early, Mum. School and all."

She looked at me emotionless for a second, then beamed as if she'd figured something out. "Yes, yes, a wise idea to not eat much. You'll look more toned tomorrow, which is good. Well then, off to bed." She waved her hand dismissively.

I smiled at her, the perfect fake smile that was her signature, and walked up the stairs, dragging my feet all the way to my room. Once inside, I shut the door, locking it behind me. I sank to the floor, leaning on the door, and gathered my knees to my chest, burying my face in my lap, wondering how many more nights I'd have to put up with this until I could go away to college. I wanted to go somewhere far, far away from this.

A solitary tear rolled down my cheek. I hadn't felt more alone than I did right now.

I slowly stood up, dragged myself to bed, and set my alarm for 6:00. If I had to be at school by 8:00 am, I'd need all the sleep I could get. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.