Started With A Lie – Chapter Two
“This Lee Richards dude is so loaded!” Candy exclaims as she flips through a magazine. I don’t pay attention to what she’s saying. I continue to search through my closet for something decent to wear for tonight.
Peter’s party is in one hour.
I have showered, dried my hair, and am currently in my strawberry pajamas searching for something to wear. “Come help me!” I turn around to face her. I notice piles and piles of clothes on my bedroom floor. I didn’t realize I’ve been doing that.
“Come here first,” Candy says, waving her hand over. “Come check out this Lee Richards dude.” I frown at her. “I promise I’ll help you afterwards.”
“Fine,” I say. I walk over and plop down on my bed next to her. Some kind of popular magazine is open on a page with a rich looking man on it. In the picture, he’s wearing a fine tailored suit and he’s holding his tie—like he’s trying to loosen it. His hair is disheveled on purpose. But it doesn’t matter.
“Can you believe it?” Candy asks. “He’s only twenty and yet he owns his own business and everything. He’s a billionaire. Any girl would be lucky to be dating him.”
“Twenty?” I ask. “That’s impossible. He can’t just build a business so quickly. He has to at least finish college first. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Oh, he didn’t make his company. I heard his father died last year and he’s an only child so he had to take over so the company wouldn’t fail.”
“Poor guy,” I say, getting off the bed. I pick up the all the clothes scattered on the floor.
“Poor guy?” Candy says. “He turned into the youngest billionaire!”
“I would rather have my father than money,” I tell her. She shuts up knowing my father is a sensitive topic. An awkward silence passes by. I try to lighten the mood. “Come help me pick something to wear now.”
Candy hops off my bed. She picks up a green dress from the floor. “You should wear this.” She throws it at me. “It’ll match your eyes.”
“Thanks,” I grin. I take the dress from her and strip. We’ve been friends for a long time, so it’s not weird to change in front of each other. I zip up the dress and turn to her. “What do you think?”
She looks up from her magazine. “Totally hot.” Candy winks. “What about me?” She stands up. “How do I look?”
“Fabulous,” I say. She’s in a hot pink dress and red heels. Her curly brown hair is left the way it is. I walk over to the mirror. I haven’t worn this since my aunt’s wedding. I apply make-up and straighten my dirty-blonde hair.
An hour passes full of make-up and hair straightening.
“Where are you guys going?” Mom asks when Candy and I are grabbing our coats. She’s getting a coffee mug—the reason why she’s out of her studio. Mom didn’t come out because she heard me leaving. She wouldn’t realize even if her house were on fire.
I turn to her. I was hoping she wouldn’t come out. Now, I have to ask permission to go to the party—which she’ll probably say no to. “A party?” I say it like a question.