Chapter Twenty: You Attract More Women Than Victoria's Secret on Black Friday
"Your personal glam squad has arrived now drink this coffee, perk up and let me get my hands on you."
I'm plucked out of bed and made to sit upright. For once I'm glad that Cole left me alone in bed, freezing my butt off because he needed to go on a run with his dad, much as I'd like for him to be my human body warmer. I doubt he would appreciate being ambushed in bed by my best friends carrying enough beauty supplies to scare him into considering entering a convent.
"I know you can't see it under my mop of hair but I'm scowling pretty hard right now."
Beth pats my head and I can hear her and Megan setting up shop around my bedroom. There's a rustle of clothing as one of them barges into my closet and spends quite some time picking an outfit for an event I have no intention of going to.
"It's not going to work." I say in a singsong voice, gulping down my coffee like an open drain.
Megan, I presume plops down on the bed next to me and tips my chin up. I'm forced to move my brand new bangs out of my eyes and glare at her. "We're not fans of Caldwell's methods ourselves..."
"Understatement of the century!" Beth yells from somewhere down the rabbit hole that is my walk in wardrobe.
"...But this is a good idea. If people see you and your family in a normal setting, acting like the normal well adjusted people that you are they're less likely to care about all the rubbish that's been published."
"I went to the supermarket yesterday to buy Kit Kat in bulk and the cashier asked me if my psychiatrist prescribed it because she truly believed that chocolate was an anti-depressant."
"So thanks but no thanks, I'm done with this town and their opinion. My dad thinks it's a good idea to just throw us out there and host this huge party then let him. I'm not attending it, in fact I have plans. The tattoo guy said he could fit me between 6 and 8pm today."
Beth storms out of my wardrobe, a black dress draped over her arm her expression thunderous.
"Uh oh." Megan whispers to the side of me but makes no move to stop our best friend from giving me a good old verbal smackdown.
"You're being a baby, a big thumb sucking, nasty diaper pooping baby about all of this and if I have to listen to one more thing about how you're too delicate to put on your big girl panties and deal with this nonsense then we're going to have a huge problem."
I shoot up, no doubt looking badass and what not in my Christmas onesie featuring Rudolph the Reindeer which a pop up nose that squeaked when pressed.
"You don't know what you're talking about! You can't even begin to imagine what it feels like when everyone's starting at you, talking behind your back and judging you based on things they don't know shit about."
She scowls, "Oh that's rich. I don't know? Is that what you really think? That I cruised through my life here? That people didn't comment on my tattoos, my hair, my piercings? Oh and my mom, they had a lot of fun speculating on what she'd been up to when she left town? But the best part was my dad because according to the people here my mother slept with most of Hollywood and everyone from good old George Clooney to Robert Downey, Jr. could've been my father. Not that I wasn't flattered but it's not the best subject for small talk is it?"
I'm instantly drowning in guilt and feeling pretty ridiculous about my tantrum over the last couple of days ever since dad's press secretary called the emergency meeting and had us preparing to do some damage control. I like to think I went off the rails a bit but dying my hair platinum blonde with pink tips and cutting it off till it reached the tops of my shoulders wasn't as much retaliation as it was a makeover. I was too straight laced to ever do something drastic even in times of great emotional upheaval.
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