You know what it feels like to be different while everyone around you is the same? No, don't worry you're not alone, but I am.
"Melissa, hurry it up, we're going to be late for the event."
"Coming." I opened my door meeting his face. He looked me over checking my attire.
"You couldn't have found something less fitting?" A form fitting shirt and skirt combo covered my curvy figure while a wide belt hugged my waist. Paired with this ensemble were a pair of striped, pointed toe flats.
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"Mr. Dawson, this is what Clara picked out, and you specifically told me to wear the outfit she chose." I argued not really in the mood to hear a lecture about my clothing. He sighed turning to walk away as I followed behind him. We were going to one of the many events held by various big shots, thankfully this one wasn't a formal event. We were allowed to be dressy, but comfortable. I followed behind the family of four inside the lavish home. Before I stepped through the door I was gently pulled back. He pulled me to the side for his usual talk.
"Remember Melissa, don't make eye contact. Don't speak to anyone you don't know. Don't speak unless you're spoken to if you see one of my colleagues, look them in the eyes when you do speak. Also don't..."
"Don't stay too close to you and the family." I cut him off. I know this speech forwards and backwards, he does this every time we're at one of these events.
"That's my girl." He smiled pinching my cheek a bit.
"Yeah, Dad I know." I said lowly enough for only him to hear. He walked ahead of me joining the other three. I stayed ten steps back away from them. I watch as the happy family mingles with all the elites of Cloverdale, Michigan. It'd be a lot different if I was one of them, I wouldn't be stuck back here in the shadows. I hate these siddity stuffy parties. The joys of being around this upper middle class family, they get invited to at least four of these things every other week. As usual I get stuck lazing around by the punch bowl while they interact with all of guest. I'm sure there's at least one black sheep in every family right. Well I'm the black sheep of this family simply because I'm black. I'm the result of my father stepping out on his marriage. Of course, nobody could know the wonderful, and perfect William Dawson had a love child with one of the women that worked for the company he was the President of. When I was around three years old I was taken away from my mom, and put in my father's care. My mom was well off, and made enough money to take care of me. She was still apart of the lower class, but she made a living off of her earnings. My father and his wife both confirmed she never asked my father for one red cent when she was pregnant with me, or when she had me. Since I was a kid they've told their friends I was the grandchild of their old nanny, and they took me in when she died. They've stuck with this lie for so long, half of the time I think it's true. In public I address my father as Mr. Dawson, his wife is Ms. Clara, and his children-my siblings- are simply called Hunter and Patience. Hunter is my older brother, he's usually away at school, but since it's spring break for his college he's stuck being miserable with me. I laugh at the faces he makes as one of the big shots' daughters tries, and fails at flirting with him. Then there's my sister, Patience, wonderful name right? Too bad she's anything but wonderful to be around. The two of us are six months apart, that's right my father went out and made another baby when his wife was already pregnant. For two years Patience was the baby of the family until our father brought me in the picture. I think she hates that I'm the baby of the family. Clearly you can see that out of my siblings Hunter is my favorite. He's the only one that treats me like family, Patience has made my life hell since I came to them. I remember one night not too long after I'd got there she came in my room, and took my teddy bear. It had a huge value to me because my mom gave it to me right before my dad took me with him. I told my dad and Clara, but that didn't do any good, Clara refused to believe her perfect little angel would do any wrong. Since I knew they wouldn't believe me I went back to my room to cry my eyes out. Later that night Hunter snuck in my room, and placed my bear under my arms. To this day I still hide my bear when I leave the house. Sadly this is my life, and I honestly don't think it'll ever get better.
"Enjoying the party?" Oh no, somebody's talking to me, more importantly it's him that's talking to me. The rules are not to speak to anybody I don't know, speak when his colleagues speak to me, and to look his colleagues in the eyes when they speak to me. I have to speak to him, not only is this guy one of my dad's colleagues, he's the son of an even bigger colleague.
"Um, I guess so." I squeak out. I can feel eyes on me, I know they're Patience' her and Clara have been trying to get her married off to him since we were kids.
"Aww come on, don't get shy on me. You've been around me since you were like six." I finally looked up to meet his eyes, he definitely went more casual, than dressy. He sported a black and white tank, paired with black skinny jeans, and sneakers. His hair combed over, shining beneath the chandelier, I drew patterns along his tattoos in my head.
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"Hi, Ethan." I finally spoke. He smiled shaking my hand in his.
"Why do they always drag you to these things if they don't want you talking to anybody?" He quirked a brow. I couldn't answer his question without giving away the truth.
"I don't know, how do you know they keep me coming to these parties?"
"Easy, you favor one location at any of the parties. I've been to all of the same ones you have, and you're always standing at the table with the punch bowl. You move out of the way any time somebody comes to get a drink. You stand by the wall like your life depends on it. Every party it's the same thing, like you're programmed to do it."
I internally sigh, if he only knew I am programmed to do it. This same routine has been drilled into my brain since I was little.
