When I sat up, I noticed a pile of folded clothes on the dresser, with a note that simply read 'for Isabella. Hope these fit! -Kristen'
I picked up the clothes and walked into the bathroom, locking the doors on both sides.
I turned on the water and examined the products inside the shower. There were things I'd never heard of, along with at least five different shampoos and conditioners.
The warm water was very refreshing, and I felt much happier and I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in an impossibly soft towel.
The pile of clean clothes had not included underwear, so I pulled on my old ones, feeling slightly dirty. I then pulled on the tight skirt that had been provided, and returned to the pile. Luckily, Kristen had thought to include a bra, but I saw with disappointment that it was a cup size too small. Nevertheless, I pulled it on, and then the tight tank top from the pile.
I looked in the mirror and felt horrified. The skirt was much shorter and tighter than anything I would ever wear, and I felt like I could barely move in it. The small bra made my boobs overflow, and the tight, low cut tank top only enhanced this. My wet hair hung in stringy clumps, and my no-makeup face was blotchy and red.
Just then, I heard Kristen calling up the stairs that dinner was ready, and I sighed and made my way out of the room.
I found my way to the stairs, and by following the voices I heard, I got to the dining room without getting lost too many times.
Every room I had been in so far had been incredible, and the dining room was no exception. The dark mahogany table was long enough to hold at least ten people, and the table was set imaculately, with a knife, two forks, two spoons, and two glasses at every seat. I was about to pull out the chair nearest me, when Richard stopped me.
"No, no, no. We have seating arrangements!"
He then began to direct us to our seats. He sat at the head of the table, while my dad sat at the foot. I was placed in the middle, as far away from my parents as I could get. On one side of me was an empty chair, and on my other side, of course, Cecelia sat.
When she had sat down next to me, she gave me a big smile and a little one-armed hug. I did not return either of these, and sat in silence, staring at the many centerpieces on the table.
We simply sat there for awhile, and I started to grow increasingly hungry. After quite a long time, two men in suits came out, carrying trays of food and pitchers of drink. I was completely incredulous. I soon realized that not only were these men serving us, they had also prepared the meal.
I observed closely as Richard was served, not wanting to do anything wrong. The server put a piece of steak on his plate, then a serving of salad, and then began spooning some sort of bean spread onto the plate. The other server then filled his wine glass with wine and the other with water. Richard watched all of this disinterestedly, and the held his hand over his plate to stop the server. Richard did not thank him in any way, he just gave the server a look, and the server then moved onto my father.
My father did rather well for awhile, until the end when he remarked, "Ooh, this looks delicious! Thank you so much!"
At this Richard let out a heavy sigh and exchanged a look with his wife.
When the server came to me, (last) I did everything Richard had done, and tried to say completely silent. I succeeded until the end, when I shifted in my chair and my napkin fell out of my lap.
"Sorry!" I murmured, bending down awkwardly to pick it up. Before I had reached the ground, however, the server was there, picking up my napkin for me. I thanked him, and reached to take it from him. The server did not return the napkin, and walked away. I sat there, confused, while Richard gave me a disapproving stare, and Stella giggled quietly. Soon the server returned, this time with a new napkin. I was slightly bewildered, but I put the napkin in my lap.
I was about to start eating when I noticed that no one else had even picked up a utensil. I looked around and saw Richard grasping hands with Kristen on one side and Cecelia on the other. I reluctantly held Cecelia's outstretched hand and stretched my arm to reach my dad. I then looked expectantly and Richard, waiting for him to speak. He just stared at his plate. Then he glanced up, locked eyes with me, and gave me an angry glare. I quickly looked down, ignoring Stella's second giggle. I tried to stay entertained with just my thoughts as we sat, as I tried to ignore the pain in my hand from Cecelia digging her nails into my palm. I shot a look at her, but she only smiled angelically back.
When my hands were finally released, I gave a sigh of relief. I carefully watched Cecelia so I was sure to pick up the right untensils, and I began to eat. The food was absolutely delicious. I had never been to many nice restaraunts, so this was for sure in my top five meals of all time.
The food may have been excellent, but the conversations were not. There was not much talking, and when there was, it was about friends or family members, or boring remarks about work. No one made any effort to include me in any conversations, so I mostly tuned out. After awhile the deserts came out- mini chocolate lava cakes, which were obviously delicious- and then our plates were taken away and we went off to our rooms. I had just began to undress, and was sitting in merely the bra and my underwear, when Cecelia barged in.
YOU ARE READING
Becoming BelleTeen Fiction
Isabella Grey has always been relatively happy with her mediocre life. She likes her routines, and always knowing where she stands. But when an opportunity arises to start her life again, this time at the top of the social pyramid, what choice does...