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*・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・*

Three long miserable days. That's how long I've been stuck in my dad's cold and desolate mansion with him and his stupid girlfriend, Celia. It's been raining ever since my plane from Georgia landed, and I can't help but wonder if that's a bad omen for how the rest of the summer is going to go. Thankfully Celia and Charles haven't bothered me much, but eventually he'll start trying to act like he's a good father and the Barbie will try to bond with me like she always does, and that's the last thing I want. So the sooner the rain stops, the sooner I can spend every second of every day out of this house.

"At least make an effort to spend time with your father?" My mother begs over the phone. I've been talking with her for almost two hours now as I watch the rain pour outside and the gray sky begin to darken to that of another summer night. Not much surprises me in life, but the fact that Mom managed to keep a cordial, almost friendly relationship with my dad after he cheated on her is beyond me.

"Sure, Mom. I guess I'll try," I brightly spoke, trying to sound happy for her sake, because it kills her to see me down. At the end of the summer I'll tell her that Dad and I bonded a bit, and she'll buy it like always and then go back to stressing about the money we don't have. It's a vicious cycle, but if she's happy then where's the harm in it? It's not like my dad will tell her otherwise, because he wants her off his back about our damaged relationship as much as I do.

I hear honking and distant sounds of Queen playing on the radio in my mom's run down baby blue Volkswagen bug, signaling that her long day of teaching must be over, and she's probably on her way home. "I miss you, Belle," Jane Granger chokes up on the other end of line.

It takes everything in me not to start crying too. There's always been this strange need that resides in the back of my head, constantly telling me to stay strong for my mom. She's the only human on this earth that my selfish heart would ever do that for- she's the only soul that deserves it.

"I miss you too," I breathe, holding back the tears. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, Sweetie. I love you," she says so brightly that I could practically see her smiling.

"I love you more."

"I love you most," Jane finishes our favorite quote from our favorite movie, Tangled. Her love for Disney and all things fantasy is what has fueled my unrealistic expectations of life. After all, I am named after a French girl with a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome who became a princess when she fell in love with a beast turned prince. Too bad my poor mom married a Gaston.

The line goes dead, and I throw my phone across the bed with a groan. I then turn my head and stare idly at the book I started on the plane and finished this morning. I thought it would take me at least a week to get through considering how bored I was with it, but the pure boredom of being stuck in this house made the book seem like it's worthy of its New York Times Bestselling title when in reality it isn't.

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