PROM QUEEN:
NEVER THE ONE.
THE FIRST SATURDAY of every month was always a chaotic day in the Monroe household. In the early mornings, the sound of glasses clinking and pans clashing with one another always managed to wake Annabelle up from her deep slumber. Mid-day, the aroma of freshly cooked dishes would fill the thick air of the home, never failing to make the raven-haired girl's stomach grumble due to the lack of the food she'd consume in order to make enough room in her stomach for the delicious meals. And by the time night fell, particular families who resided on Figure Eight would all be gathered around in the backyard of the large home, having small talk while devouring the freshly made food, an alcoholic beverage to go along with it.
Dinner parties had never really interested Annabelle, though. In fact, she hated them with this burning passion for several reasons. Don't get her wrong, the food was great and all, but being surrounded by the same people who had torn her self-image down when she was just an innocent toddler, resulted in her despising these unnecessary events. In her eyes, these gatherings were a simple excuse for the adults to get somewhat tipsy, hoping to forget how truly pathetic their lives actually were.
It was the reality that came with the prestigious lifestyle that the less fortunate on the island so badly wanted to obtain. Being at the top of a social class required them to put on a facade; one so perfectly constructed with every minuscule detail about the actuality of their lives hidden away from the public so that no one would ever think about the secrets that lured inside the walls of the broken homes that were lined up near the edge of the crystal-clear water in Kildare Island.
Secret love children, mistresses, pending divorces that were never actually taken to court which only ended up inflicting unnecessary pain upon the children who were forced to remain barricaded in a toxic environment with the constant arguing that went on behind closed doors—basically, pretty much anything else one could think of was what destroyed the wealthy families who never failed to flaunt the infinite money that the world had graciously offered them.
Annabelle's life, from the perspective of her very own eyes, was this dark shade of grey. She couldn't remember the last time she'd genuinely been happy. Anytime that she threatened to approach that feeling of overwhelming happiness, something—more like someone—would jerk her back because god forbid that she ever felt at peace with her life.
"Stop picking at that."
Annabelle was snapped from her reverie. Her coffee-colored eyes traveled towards her mother who held down her wrist with a strong force. It caused the fork to slip from between her fingers, colliding with the fluted souffle bowl as a quiet wince left her mouth.
"Sorry," Annabelle murmured an apology, fighting back the strong urge to talk back. She definitely would've had it not been for her being surrounded by people who were enjoying the meal that she absolutely despised.
Sandra narrowed her eyes, releasing Annabelle's wrist from her grasp before turning her attention back towards Cynthia Thornton, whom she'd previously been conversing with before she felt the desperate need to scold her daughter for something so stupid. "So, has Topper given any thought to his future? Because my dear daughter certainly hasn't." Her tone was cold as the words spewed from her mouth, clearly directing them towards Annabelle.
Cynthia sighed, shaking her head. "I wish I could say that he has, but it's not exactly a topic that he enjoys discussing. Hopefully, by next year, he'll actually start taking it more seriously." The disappointment in Cynthia's tone was evident. She and Sandra Monroe were the same when it came down to their personalities. They were both cruel and could care less about anyone or anything, for that matter. Annabelle hated her. "I just hope that he doesn't end up like Ward Cameron's son. That boy graduated high school over a year ago and he has yet to do anything useful with his life. It's pathetic." She continued, face twisting in the process.
At the mention of Rafe Cameron, Annabelle couldn't help but feel bad for the boy. She didn't talk to him much unless they were at the same party, but she could tell that most of his rebellious actions were just a cry for some sort of attention from his father. It was no secret that Ward Cameron preferred his daughter over his nineteen-year-old son. It was as if no matter what Rafe did, it was never enough to satisfy his father. And Annabelle knew exactly what that felt like.
The feeling of never being enough constantly weighed Annabelle down. Though she never showed it—it was always there, piercing at her skin and leaving these vicious, invisible marks on the tan surface. Every time she glanced in a mirror, she always felt this deep hatred for the figure that locked eyes with her.
Since she was younger, she'd always been insecure about her physical appearance. At the age of five all the way to the age of eight, she competed in these beauty pageants that were held at the hall in town. Not by freewill, but because Sandra Monroe had always signed her up despite Annabelle begging her not to.
Annabelle remembered the piles and piles of makeup that were constantly mounted onto her juvenile skin that was free of acne scars and visible pores at the time. If a single tear fell from her eyes, she'd be scolded by the person doing her makeup, but she couldn't help the sadness that clawed at her body.
Pageants had always been a sickening concept to even think about. Annabelle found it absolutely disgusting that these middle-aged judges—both males and females—willingly signed up to judge literal children based on the ludicrous beauty standards that were considered perfect in the eyes of patriarchal society. Even now, eight whole years later, she still couldn't believe that her mother had actually forced her into those deranged contests that had taken a huge toll on her mental health.
"What about you, Annabelle? Have you given your future any thought? College perhaps?"
Snapped back into reality for the second time that night, Annabelle looked towards Cynthia who had her eyebrows raised upwards. She sunk her teeth down into her bottom lip for a couple of seconds, taking the time to think, before parting her lips to speak. "Uh, I'm taking a couple of college courses that the school offers right now, but when senior year rolls around, I'm thinking about applying to Darthmo-"
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! Athena got accepted into Brown University and she plans to attend in the fall. Can you believe it?" Sandra cut into the conversation before Annabelle could finish her sentence. She proudly spoke of her eldest daughter, making sure to glance over at her younger one to shoot the raven-haired girl a disappointed look. "It's always nice to know that one of my daughters is actually optimistic about her future."
Annabelle slammed the palms of her hands down on the table, annoyed with her mother's behavior as per usual. She was used to being belittled, but she couldn't find it in herself to put up with her harsh insults tonight. "Can I be excused? Please?"
"May I." Sandra corrected her daughter, sipping on her wine to allow the silence to fall between the two. Had it not been for Annabelle sending her a death stare, she would've avoided her altogether, but Sandra was easily annoyed and didn't plan on putting up with her daughter's childish behavior. "Goodness gracious, Annabelle, wipe that horrid look off of your face. You know, it's a good thing that you'll be returning to classes this upcoming Monday. Your days of absence have clearly taken a drastic effect on your grammar and especially your behavior."
Hypocrite. That's all Annabelle wanted to say at that moment when her mother brought up her behavior. But she didn't.
Instead, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, eyebrows shot upwards. "Can I be excused?" Annabelle repeated herself, making it more than clear that she had zero intentions of correcting herself.
Sandra's lips formed into a thin line before she nodded her head. "Go along. Just make sure to be back for dessert. We're having crême brûlée and bourbon pound cake."
"Yum." Annabelle sardonically smiled, earning a deadpan look in return from her mother who wanted nothing more than for her to get far, far away from sight. "I'll just be a few minutes, mom." She added, standing to her feet. She made sure to properly excuse herself from the table before walking in the direction of the large home, heading straight towards the imperial staircase.
Had it not been for Sarah Cameron's voice calling for her, she would've been halfway up the flight of stairs, but she was forced to turn around. A smile tugging at her lips in the process with her body leaning on the railing.
"Hey, what's up, Sarah"
"Hey—Uhm, wanna get out of here? We can go get some decent food somewhere else." Sarah offered, no longer wanting to be here with the rest of her family. "I mean, no offense, but boeuf bourguignon is literally the most disgusting thing that I've ever tasted. I don't even know if I'm saying that right."
No longer wanting to be here either, Annabelle nodded her head. "Oh, definitely." She agreed, scrunching her face up due to the aftertaste of the dish still lingering on her tongue. She usually enjoyed the meals that the cooks prepared, but that was not the case today. "I've been craving seafood these past few days. Wanna head down to The Wreck." She questioned, hoping that the blonde would agree.
Sarah pulled her eyebrows together, mouth slightly gaped open. "And risk running into Kiara? Hell no." She stared at the girl in front of her, questioning whether Annabelle had gone mad. "Can't we just head down to that place in town that's right next to the smoothie place? They sell seafood there too."
Annabelle let out a small groan. "C'mon, it's a Saturday night, Sarah." She stated the obvious. Even she and Kiara had some intense rivalry going on, but she didn't care about running into her—not anymore, at least. "She's probably off somewhere smoking weed with her little pogue friends. Plus, the seafood they sell at that place is questionable."
"Ooo, where are we headed?" Janet made a sudden appearance, a bread roll in hand as she looked towards Annabelle and then over at Sarah.
Annabelle's eyes flickered towards her best friend before she continued to speak. "We are headed to The Wreck." She concluded, earning a scowl in return from Sarah who wanted nothing more than to claw at Annabelle's face at that moment. "I gotta go grab a jacket and my car keys. Meet me outside in five."
"I hate you!" Sarah called back at her friend as the girl trudged up the stairs to get up to her bedroom.
"And I adore you, Sarah Cameron!" Annabelle shouted, holding her middle finger up at the same time that the blonde did.
She didn't take long to go upstairs and then right back down. A chocolate-colored leather coat now lying on top of both her shoulders, shielding her from the cold that greeted her the second she stepped out of the two-story home.
This winter was proving itself to be intolerable at this point and she looked forward to the day that the sun would once again radiate that everlasting feeling that it always did whenever the summer season came around. The rays would soak into her pale complexion, kissing her skin to claim territory upon it as she spent her days outside, making memories with friends (fingers crossed that she'd gather up the money to vacation somewhere far away from the Outer Banks).
"Hurry up and unlock the car! It's freezing out here!" Janet whined, rubbing her arms to prove just how cold she was.
A surprised look formed on Annabelle's face when she noticed another one of her friends stood beside Sarah. "Gen?" She raised her eyebrows up at the girl, confused when she'd gotten here.
"We couldn't just leave her behind to suffer through this torment of a dinner party—no offense to your parents." Sarah sucked in air through her teeth to flash the girl an awkward smile.
"Oh, please, full offense to them." Annabelle waved it off, not caring about the slander towards the two adults. She quickly pressed the unlock button on her car remote, listening to locks pop off which granted them access to the warmer environment that the automobile had to offer.
"Hey, you know what I just realized?" Janet spoke up again once they had all fastened their seatbelts to help ensure their safety on the road. The three looked towards her, waiting for her to continue. "This is kinda like a girl's night. We should like totally do something wild and get matching tattoos sometime tonight."
Annabelle's attention returned to the steering wheel as she placed the car into reverse. She tried to contain her laughter for a few seconds, but her friend's stupidity tickled at her vocal cords. And when she glanced towards Sarah, who was seated beside her in the passenger seat, the two girls burst into a fit of laughter. "Are you drunk right now, Janet?"
The pads of Janet's index finger and thumb hovered above over one another, indicating that she was not sober. "I drank two glasses of wine when my mom wasn't paying attention."
"Two glasses? Did you fucking down that shit?" Genevieve inquired, narrowing her eyes at the brunette seated a seat away from her.
Janet let out a short laugh, nodding her head. "Indeed I did, Genevieve Atkins."
"Keep drinking at that rate and the probability of you becoming an alcoholic in your early twenties becomes more likely." Annabelle scolded her friend, concern laced in her tone with how often Janet drank nowadays. She knew it was all due to her parents getting back together recently despite how much the pair argued whenever they were around one another. "Not to mention that you're harming your liver—which by the way, you need in order to be able to...you know...live."
"Bite me, you mathematician." Janet jokingly snarled, unable to contain the laugh that followed.
Sarah gave the Monroe girl a look, sighing. "Oh, god. This is gonna be a long car ride."
Annabelle nodded her head, agreeing. "Damn right it is." She made it out of the driveway, pressing her thumb against the touchscreen car stereo to press play on the music she'd been listening to on her previous car ride. It wasn't enough to drown out the banter going on in the backseat, but it was enough to allow her to concentrate.
｡･:*:ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹
CUTTING THE ENGINE to the 2019 Mercedes-Benz CLS-Class, Annabelle felt a wave of relief wash over her. She was the first out of the car, head on the verge of exploding thanks to the chaotic car ride she'd just undergone. Had she been forced to sit in the vehicle for even a few seconds longer, she knew that a scream would've erupted from her mouth followed by a load of profanities in order to shut up the two bantering girls in the backseat who hadn't shut their mouths the entire ride there.
"Those two are something else, aren't they?" Sarah spoke up once she'd joined Annabelle's side, playfully bumping their shoulders together with an amused look covering her features.
"They're something alright." Annabelle puffed, glancing towards her two friends as they made their way out of the car to join the raven and blonde-haired girls. "I've had to deal with those two for the past five years now. Wanna take them off my hands?"
"I'll pass." Sarah quirked her lips upward, allowing a quiet chuckle to leave her mouth.
"You two just gonna stand around looking pretty? I'm starving, so let's head inside."
Annabelle jumped in surprise at the sound of Janet's voice coming from behind her. She was also famished, so she quickly agreed, deciding to lead the way towards the wooden ramp that led to the entrance of the crowded restaurant. When she approached the see-through glass door, she squeezed her eyes shut when she caught sight of a particular group of friends.
"Shit." Annabelle cursed under her breath, loud enough for the three girls behind her to hear which resulted in Sarah suspiciously eyeing her.
Sarah gripped onto the back of Annabelle's shoulders, slightly moving the girl to the side so that she could see what had caused her to stop walking. A few seconds later, her eyes widened, her mouth falling open at the sight of Kiara Carrera and her three friends who she was always with. "C'mon, it's a Saturday night, Sarah. She's probably off somewhere smoking weed with her little pogue friends." Sarah was quick to mock Annabelle's words from earlier, making her voice higher than it originally was.
Eyebrows knit together, Annabelle turned her head towards Sarah, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't talk like that." She offensively scoffed
Genevieve, who was almost always confused, looked into the restaurant. She didn't know what the two were staring at until she spotted the curly-haired girl stood behind the counter. She tried not to laugh at how awkward this was about to be, but failed. "Shit. You two still haven't made up? Hasn't it almost been a whole year since you stopped being friends?"
"We were hardly even friends. I knew her for like a few months and that was it." Sarah chewed on her bottom lip. She'd done this since the two stopped being friends. She liked to pretend that the bond between them was nonexistent, but everyone always saw through the pretense she'd tried to assemble.
Annabelle rolled her eyes, not believing a single word that left the blonde's mouth. "Are you kidding? You were the first to befriend her when she got to the academy." She reminded her, causing Sarah's mind to momentarily flicker with sadness at the memory of their first encounter. "Didn't you two like set baby turtles into the ocean together or something?"
"What did break you two up anyways?" Janet butt into the conversation, curious to know what had driven the two kooks apart, to begin with. From what she saw, the two had been inseparable one day, and then the next, it was as if they were complete strangers. Everyone found that odd when the rumors of the so-called: friendship breakup—first flooded the hallways of the academy.
"Something really, really stupid." Sarah shrugged her shoulders, deciding not to go too into detail. "But you know what? Screw it! The past is the past for a reason, right? I need to get food into my stomach immediately, so let's just stop talking about this and go eat."
"That is such a fascinating way of thinking. I wish that I had your mentality." Janet pointed a very wobbly finger at Sarah. She clearly had zero clue what she was saying at this point.
Annabelle reached for her friend's upper arm, making sure to keep the girl stood upright. "Jesus, Janet. We've gotta get some water into your system. I think the wine's doing a number on you." She sighed, reaching for the door handle to pull open the door. "C'mon, let's do this."
With her other arm wrapped around Janet's shoulder, she led the other two girls into the noisy restaurant. The fresh smell of seafood traveled up her nostrils, causing her stomach to loudly grumble. She had known she was hungry, but not this hungry.
For a Saturday night, it was less crowded than she expected. It was likely due to the cold temperatures that hadn't dared vacate the island for the past two weeks now. Had it not been for the ongoing dinner party taking place at the Monroe Residence, Annabelle would've stayed home in bed, a thick blanket wrapped around her body while some teen romance series played in the background.
"Great, it's you four." Fake enthusiasm coated Kiara's tone as the four girls stepped into the family-owned restaurant.
"That is no way to greet paying customers, Kiara." Genevieve firmly placed both hands on her hips, a smirk tugging at her lips in the process because one of her favorite hobbies was to annoy the living crap out of people. Plus, she knew that Kiara was easily annoyed, so that made this encounter that much better. "Why don't you be a doll and fetch us a couple of menus?"
"And a jug of water," Annabelle added, turning to walk away with Janet still by her side. She only briefly heard Kiara mutter something about their lack of manners and a few other insults, but she didn't care.
While they settled down at one of the vacant tables, a group of friends set their eyes on the kooks. They could feel the stares, but ignored them and engaged in a conversation of their own.
"God, I hate them. All four of them. Especially Annabelle—the way she parades around, acting as if she's the most important person on this island." Kiara snarled once the four teenage girls had taken a seat by one of the tables located near the large windows that blew in the cold freeze from outside.
"You know she got a job at the island club." JJ slipped that small detail in, shrugging his shoulders like it was nothing out of the ordinary.
"What?" The other three simultaneously turned in his direction, unsure if they'd heard that correctly.
"Yeah, she's like waitressing around the restaurant."
Pope Heyward looked at his friend incredulously, wondering why he hadn't brought this up sooner. He usually didn't care much about what people did with their lives, but this—now this was a complete surprise to him because why the hell would one of the richest kids on the island need a job. "Why would she need a job at all?"
"To deprive the poor of a reasonable wage." Kiara scoffed, her eyes narrowed as she looked over at Annabelle Monroe.
"Maybe her family's going bankrupt or something." John B stupidly suggested, knowing that the possibility of that family ever going broke was quite literally impossible.
Kiara arched her brows up at him, unable to believe that he'd just said that. "Sandra Monroe is like one of the best cardiothoracic surgeons in the damn world, not to mention that she literally comes from a line of successful surgeons who—by the way, are all millionaires. And Sebastian Monroe is a freaking neurosurgeon—like he literally fixes brains. Those two built an entire foundation together which just adds to their income." She elucidated, crouching down to grab four menus from behind the counter. "Trust me, John B, that family isn't losing a single penny...ever."
"Wait, they're surgeons?" JJ stupidly questioned, earning a dumbfounded look from Kiara in return.
"Dude, literally everyone knows that." Pope reached into the tray to seize a few cold french fries.
"Well, clearly not everyone, man." JJ defensively spoke, holding his hands up in surrender for not knowing the key detail that formed the Monroe family.
"And of course Sarah freaking Cameron is here too." Kiara blew out a huff. The sight alone made her blood boil. She couldn't imagine walking over to that table and pretending like everything was cool between them when it in fact was not. "I think the universe is trying to punish me for something. But what? I mean, what could I have possibly done wrong?"
Right on cue, Annabelle's voice rang through her ears as the Monroe girl shouted from across the restaurant, concerned with the fact that Janet looked like she'd throw up any second now. "Kiara! Our friend is hanging by a thread! Hurry up with that water!"
JJ looked towards his frustrated friend and then back at the group of girls sat by the window before sighing. "Here, hand it over."
Kiara's eyes beamed with joy. She didn't hesitate to hand him the four menus along with the jug of water with a couple of plastic cups, repeatedly thanking him with a smile formed on her lips. "I would say I owe you, but I've saved your ass a shit load of times since we became friends, so in a way, you're just repaying me."
JJ looked towards Kiara, playfully glaring at her. He yanked the plastic jug of water from the counter, spilling a good portion of it onto the ground. His eyes blankly stared down at the spilled liquid as he sucked air in through his teeth. "Before you yell at me for that, I'd like to remind you that I'm a professional busboy, not a waiter."
"Nice going, JJ." John B loudly snorted, patting the boy on the back with a thick layer of sarcasm coating his words.
"Just get that to them." Kiara waved him off.
They watched the blonde-haired boy struggle for a few more seconds until he finally managed to get a good grip on the items that he had to deliver to the table. They all laughed at him, of course.
Once JJ was far from them to the point where he could no longer hear his friend's voices, a different conversation commenced between the three friends.
"Twenty bucks says he'll have hooked up with her by next week." Pope looked towards JJ who seemed to have engaged himself in a conversation with Annabelle and her friends.
John B shook his head in disagreement. "Nah, tourons are more his type. She's a kook, so two weeks at the most."
Kiara scoffed in disbelief at the predictions that were leaving the two boys' mouths. This was so typical of them. "Seriously? Do you guys really think that JJ would swoop down to her level? They literally work together."
"Kie, this is JJ we're talking about." John B quietly laughed.
Kiara gnawed on her bottom lip, realizing he was right. This was JJ Maybank they were talking about. He hooks up with anything that breathes. "Three weeks."
"That's your final bet?" John B looked back and forth at both his friends. When they both nodded, he clapped his hands together, an amused look tugging at his features. "Alright, the winner gets $40."
authors note:
Not John B, Kiara, and Pope betting on when JJ will hook up with Annabelle 🧍🏻♀️.
On another note, fuck Sandra Monroe. Do you ever just wanna 🤜🏼👩🏻.