I could ask for anything. More like ask for everything. Whatever it was, I can get it.
I've never experienced poverty, indigence, hardship. Nothing. The very day I was born, it was into wealth and luxury. My father was a Oxford-graduate who had found the cure to Ebola. My mother was a daytime talk show host. But most importantly, my brother, who's ten years my senior, is a world famous football star. I wasn't just born into wealth, I was made for it.
Now I can tell you all about what I do, but that's just it. Not a fucking thing. I don't have to. Attending Duke is already stressful as it is. Spoiling my two best friends Goldie and Iris, who have been with me since day one. No matter what situation, scenario, or issue, they have always had my back. So what's better to thank them than showering with gifts.
Regardless of my brothers success, we're actually very close. Always have been, he knows what to say to my parents to get me out of anything. Trouble, being grounded, restricting my money use $1000 a month rather than 5k, I just couldn't have it. Besides the money though, he was very comforting, when our parents fought, when our pet bunny lola died, even when my older sister (and his twin sister) Maxine disassociated herself from the family years back.
Nevertheless, Michael was always the one to count on. The closeness with my brother was real, but the one with my parents was not. My father Marcus couldn't stand the ground I walked on, I often think at times he hates me. Sure, I ask for something and I get it, but it would be nice to have a sitdown at dinner or a "I love you" every once in a while. As for my mom Salem, she's ok, I haven't had much problems with her, besides the fact she favors Michael over me. I can't blame her, he's the multi-millionaire football player, I'm just "the other one."
Besides my two best friends, no one really talks to me. Sure I have the occasional people at school, but they only want my money, not my true friendship. That's fake.
And I ain't here for it.
It's also the reason I don't have time for relationships these days. Every guy I've tried to date, just wants one thing. To either get my money, or get in my pants. I'm so sick of it.
Goldie suggests I try those dumb ass rich meets rich dating sites, but she forgets to remember that rich guys aren't all that either. Those tan uptight dudes who wear scarves around their neck won't cut it for me. Especially the ones who only want to date a rich black girl so they can show off to their snobby little friends. No thanks fam, I'm good.
Iris says I should just let guys go, and I agree. I have bigger, better, and more important things to worry about than some damn man. Although, it would be nice to share my life with someone.
I close my eyes as I listen to Goldie and Iris argue for the fifth time today.
"Nah listen I'm telling you, she should come! It's gonna be lit!"
Iris takes a deep breath, "Marigold! For the last time! It is not her thing! You know Dahlia doesn't like things like that!"
I open one of my eyes in curiosity. Iris used Goldie's real name, I knew something was up.
"Ahem, what's going on you two?" I bit my lip in confusion. It's a bad habit I'm still working on.
Iris aggressively takes a bite of her burrito, "Goldie is going to some punk alternative party, and she wants you to come to get out more. I think it's ridiculous! What do you think Dahlia?"
I hum, putting my fingers under my chin, holding my head up to think. A party would be nice. But that emo, punk gothic whatever the hell wasn't my scene. Ha, check one for ironic pun. Ha! Check two for rhyming.
I give a smile. "Maybe Iris, I don't know." Iris points her carefully manicured finger at Goldie. "I told you so!" She stook her tongue out while Goldie smacked her lips. They were polar opposites but it worked.
"Man, whatever. But at least think about it Dahlia. It's not those dumbass rich people parties, these can be really cool. Last time I went Lil Uzi Vert was there stopping by. I even got a picture. The music gets fucking weird after a while, but besides that these punk people know how to party."
I turned my head, looking away from the two trying not to laugh.
Goldie playfully smacked her gold chain against my cheek. "What the fuck is funny?"
I chuckled. "Nothing, I'm just wondering how a hip hop video hoe like yourself is going to punk parties. You don't even like metal or rock music!"
Goldie nods in agreement. "True, true. But it's growing on me. Not to mention, there's some fine ass people there. The other day I hooked up with some fine ass pale goth chick, she was into some weird shit though, but I didn't mind. She had a tongue piercing, so you know what that means." Goldie gave me a smirk.
Iris looked up in confusion from her cupcake, "Uh, what does that mean?" She pouted in frustration. So cute.
I finally took a bite of my omelette. "Well Goldie, you are the party animal of the group. So I trust your judgment. I'll go!"
Goldie claps in excitement as she hears my answer, "That's great! It's tomorrow night, I'll pick you up! Iris, you're coming too, I'm sick and tired of your ass staying home and watching anime every night."
Iris abruptly stops drinking her milkshake and whines. "Hey! I can have plans if I want to! I just really like anime!"
"Yeah, too damn much."
"There's no such thing!"
"Yes there is!"
"No there isn't!"
"Yes there is!"
"No there is not!"
I inhale and sit back in annoyance as they began their sixth argument. I remind myself it's only 9am in the morning. This is gonna be a long day.
YOU ARE READING
"Don't nobody want your drunk white ass." "Well damn, all I asked for was a hug." 19 year old Dahlia Jade Kendricks has been the center of attention ever since she was a little girl. She wanted it, she got it. She asks, she demands, she gets. Spoile...