Pristine

Chapter 8

Monday was no fun day.

I should have known that Emily would bring revenge on me after I told her I wouldn't join her club.

She acted all okay about it, but she was actually fuming mad. Nobody turns down an oppertunity from her.

Not even the teachers.

♢♢♢

"Hi, Pristine! Hello, er... urm... uh, Allisom!" Emily greeted us at lunch.

"It's Allison Emily. Get it right, please," Allison replied, obviously offended.

"Hey, Emily," I said wearily. I was a bit nervous because she had the biggest girl from the track team behind her.

"Hey Pristine, can you come with me? Peeeez?" Emily asked.

"Um, sure. Why?" I responded.

♢♢♢

Emily showed me a tabloid. "Is this true?" she asked me.

I read the headline news. It read:

TREVOR FLAMORIA ENGAGED TO NANNY!

"What!" I shouted, shocked.

Emily smiled evily. "And last week's was this one," she said.

This one read:

BROOKE FLAMORIA'S FAME DESCENT!

I gasped.

"How..?" I stuttered.

"Yes, Pristine. Your little fame family is coming to an end. And before you know it, I'm going to be on the front headlines- as Miss Junior America!" she cackled in my face.

Realization then hit me. I could not, WOULD NOT, let her win.

And I only had three weeks to prepare.

♢♢♢

On Thursday, I went to my dad's with Allison. We got to ride in a limo, which is always fun.

As we rode through the streets of Los Angeles, I told Allison about my plan.

"Woah, Miss Junior America? That's really unusual for you, Pristine!" Allison remarked.

Then I told her why, and her face hardened into determination.

"Okay, Pristine. I'll help you the best I can. I think teh perfect dress is already forming. Perhaps Mellie can make it?

I nodded. Mellie would love to.

As the ride continued, we both sprouted ideas, and we both planned, planned, planned!

"Hey girls, look at that house," the chaffeur said as we passed through Santa Monica.

We both looked up quickly.

"Not as nice as yours, Pristine," Allison remarked.

I smiled. "Very funny."

♢♢♢

"Alright, girls, we've arrived at your dad's house," the chaffeur called back to us.

I took off my aviator shades and looked out the window.

"Woah," Allison whispered.

I just stared.

The beach house was two stories tall, with humugo windows. It was all white and had palm trees leading up to it. The lawn was perfectly manicured and green.

The front porch was nonexistant, but the front door was... french doors.

And standing in front of them was...

"DADDY!" I squealed, running towards him.

"Pristine! Oh, have I missed you!" my dad murmmered as he embraced me.

Allison stood there, her eyes and mouth wide open.

"Err, Allison, this is..," I started.

"TREVOR SPARKS? Pristine, you did not tell me your dad is TREVOR SPARKS!"

"Well, er, uh, let me explain..," I started.

"Can I have your autograph?" Allison pleaded hopefully.

Daddy laughed. "Sure thing, Allison."

Allison whimpered. "He knows my name..."

I just rolled my eyes and laughed.

♢♢♢

Inside the house, there was beach themed furniture everywhere, and a front row view of the ocean.

Allison was still starry-eyed, and kept clutching to the autographed paper, mumbling "He knew my NAME! Wow." every ten seconds.

I went upstairs with Dad and a very out of it Allison, and saw four rooms labeled: Master, Guest, Pristine and Family Room.

I opened the door to the room labeled 'Pristine' and gasped.