Changing the Script -ON HOLD-

Chapter Five

"You see, sir-" I start.

Brandon cuts me off, "I was looking at the stars with my telescope here, and I ran into Olivia."

""And why was Miss Donahue out here, exactly?"

"I was looking out the window, you know, trying to see who was in the yard, and my bracelet fell, so I came down here to get it." I finish.

Larry doesn't believe a word of this, I can tell, but he doesn't say anything else for a few seconds.

"Go on, get up to your room, Miss Donahue." Larry instructs.

I see Brandon packing up his telescope out of the corner of my eye as I turn toward the house.

"Good night, Larry." I say, walking away.

Larry nods. Actually, he nods, and does this grunt noise that reminds me of a baby pig. I've only seen one pig in my life, it was a few summers ago, when Cheyenne took me to her uncles farm. It was like your typical farm, like the ones in movies. There were those wooden fences that didn't really stop anything from coming onto the property, a huge red barn with white trim, a decent sized house, and acres upon acres of land. 

Not too far away from the house, but far enough that any sane person would want to ride the tractor instead of walk to it, was a stable. Inside the stable were these huge, graceful looking horses. I remember one was all white, like the ones you see in fairytales. Cheyenne called her Angie. I rode Angie around the property a few times while we were there. Next to the stables was this other tiny building, and inside was the cutest baby pig I had ever seen...and I don't just say that because it was the only pig I'd ever seen. I felt like I was in a movie the whole time.

While I analyze the noise Larry just made, Brandon brushes past me and enters the house. I follow after him, but stop when I get to the kitchen.

I open the fridge and pull out a small, round cake. I cut a peice and put it on one of our "bad" plates. Yes, we have "bad" plates. My father considers the plates that aren't crystal to be "bad." I rummage around for a fork, and when I find one, I plop down on one of the stools and dig in. 

The cake is chocolate, with that special vanilla icing our chef makes. After a few bites, I find a cup that isn't crystal and pour myself some milk - which isn't in a milk jug, like normal people, it's been transfered from the jug into this fancy vintage looking pitcher.

It's times like this when I wish I wasn't surrounded by granite countertops. When I wish I wasn't eating with a fork that cost more than one would believe, or that I didn't have to go through piles of crystal plates to find a  "bad" one. I wish I was drinking milk from a jug, not a fancy pitcher. I wish I was eating cake from Acme, like normal people. I sit down on the stool and wallow in my own self pity.

I wish I wasn't rich. I wish I had an actual mom. I wish people didn't use me for my money. I wish I had more than a few real friends. I wish I lived in a house that I couldn't possibly get lost in. I wish I didn't have a chef. I wish my dad was around. I wish I didn't grow up with a nanny. I wish I didn't have someone pick out my clothes for me.

I sigh and put my dishes in the sink and head back up to my room.

As I lay in my bed a few moments later, I look around. I have so many things. Sparkly jewlery, designer clothes, everything. There are people who don't have those things. Some people live on the streets, with nothing.

And that's when the guilt sets in. How can I sit here and complain about having it all, when others have nothing close to what I have?

So I make up my mind right then and there, and I call Cheyenne.

The phone rings for a while before she picks up.

"Do you know what time it is?" She asks groggily.

"Yeah, I do, and I have a lot to tell you. But before I get into all of that, wanna do something with me tomorrow?"

"What?" She's not fully awake yet.

"Come to the city with me. There's this soup kitchen Garrett told me about once, I want to help there."

"A soup what?"

"C'mon, Shy! Please?"

"I....Liv, a soup kitchen? Really? For the homeless people? Why can't we just make them food and pass it out-" She stops in the middle of her sentence. I know she figured out - too late, of course - that she'd just given me an idea.

"Oh, God, Liv, no!" She moans.

"Hey, you said it."

She groans, and I can hear her fall back onto her bed.

"So it's settled? You'll meet me at my house at noon?" I ask hopefully.

She sighs, and I know she'll be here.

I smile. I've never done anything like this before, and I'm so excited to do it. 

I cannot wait for tomorrow. 

Suddenly, everything with Brandon is forgotten...and maybe that's a good thing.