I stood at one of the mannequins in my sewing room and carefully sewed in place the spaghetti strap to the electric blue romper that hung off it.
My sewing room, which was previously the sixth guest room up until freshman year, was my second sanctuary right after my closet. It wasn't as organized as my closet, in fact to an outsider's eye it could be compared to the aftermath of a tornado hitting, but to me it was an organized messy.
The walls were covered with posters of my favorite designers' works as well as pinboards that had my own sketches tacked on to them. Against one of the walls was a book shelf that held books and binders of sewing patterns, and sketch books that were either filled with my drawings or completely blank.
A rather large white table stood in the middle of the room with my lavender sewing machine resting on the edge in front of a plush chair, as well as one of my back up laptops and stray papers scattered everywhere. Measuring tapes, threads, scissors, needles, and any other material a sewer would need filled up colorful bins that were cast in different areas of the room. Ten headless mannequins were lined up in a semi-circle a few feet away from the table and a rack of clothes was settled in one of the further corners.
The room was small compared to my bedroom and closet. Only half as a big. I was thinking about getting rid of the wall that separated this room from yet another guest room and expanding my area.
My eyes scanned the piece I was working on, and I couldn't help but admire how cute it was. I had it cut it in a way that took it from casual to slightly elegant, and the shaped slits in the side added a needed edge to it.
I was concentrating so hard on what I was doing I didn't hear the door open, or the footsteps that entered.
"Jules."
I glanced up to see my father leaning against the door, staring at me. I sighed and went back to what I was doing, still exceptionally ticked he brought that woman into our house.
"What do you want?"
"Juliet," he said in a flat voice. "The attitude is not necessary."
I forced a smile and looked back up at him. "Yes, daddy?"
"There, that wasn't so hard," a smile tugged at his lips. "You're running late."
"Late for what?" I tugged on one of the legs of the romper.
"School?"
"School?" I frowned, glancing at the one of the curtain covered window in the room. "It's morning already?"
"Um, yeah," he walked over and tilted my chin so he could examine my face. "How long have you been in here?"
"Since last night," I swatted his hand away so I could continue what I was doing.
"So, you didn't sleep at all?"
"I guess I just lost track of time," I glanced around at the mannequins I had clothed in a fit of manic and anxiety over the course of the night with dresses, jumpsuits, rompers, and blouses. "I just- I sew when I'm stressed, and boy am I stressed right now."
Just the thought of Lucas and Stacey's deception was enough to make my already boiling blood overheat. In order for me to get my heart rate down I had to sew, and I kept sewing until I was calm. Which, you know, didn't really happen, and thus led me to being up all night. I was going to have to pop a Xanax in order to get through the day without popping a blood vessel.
"Oh," he frowned a little. "Do you want to talk about it?
"No," I shook my head. "It's just silly boy problems. Nothing I can't handle."
And did I intend on handling it.
"I would love to hear about what type of boy problems you're having," he said, taking on that tone he strictly reserved for discussions that centered around boys.
I snorted. "I'm sure you would. Maybe later. I'm not ready to discuss right now."
"I'll hold you to that," he fingered the material of the romper. "This is very good."
"It's okay," I said breezily. "It would be better if I wasn't so angsty."
"Your mother used to sew like this."
My fingers froze, and my eyes flashed to Dad's face.
He smiled slightly, still studying the piece. "Well, not like this. You're more advanced than she ever was, but whenever she needed to calm down she sewed. Like you."
"Do not," I said sharply, securing the strap with unnecessary force. "Compare me to that woman."
A prolonged silence stretched between us, and then a small sigh left my dad.
"That woman is your mother, and-"
"She's not my mother."
I began removing all the clothes I had sewn from their respective mannequins and grabbed some hangers from a plastic bin to place them on.
"Juliet," he began. "I know it's hard for you to talk about her, but I think talking might make you feel better-"
"Why on earth," I slammed the clothes on the rack before turning around to face him. "Would I want to talk about her? Talking about her doesn't bring her back, and thank God for that."
I exited the room and stomped into my bedroom, locking the door before my father could come in after me.
I brought my hand up to my head that was threatening to explode and walked over to my bathroom to get a Xanax.
After I finished getting ready for school I sat down at my dresser. I studied my make up coated reflection in the mirror for a few lingering moments, and then turned my attention to the jewelry box that sat in the center of my many beauty products. I pulled it towards me and flipped the lid open.
I dug around for a bit in the jumbled up pieces of gold and silver before extracting two rings: an enormous diamond ring and a gold ban to match.
The rings slid down my index finger as I examined them closely. My thumb ran over the engraved words on the outside of the wedding ban.
"A&V," I read softly. "Forever and Always."
I scoffed quietly, rolling my eyes. Yeah right.
I didn't know why my dad always had the inclination of bringing my up mother like it was no big deal. Like, we were discussing the weather or what we should have for breakfast. It was incredibly irritating considering what she did the him. To me.
To us.
I grabbed a golden chain from the box and removed the charm that was originally attached to replace it with the wedding rings. I hooked the necklace around my neck and tucked it away in my shirt, so it would go unnoticeable to the rest of the world.
I had almost made it out of the house without being detected until Dad popped out of nowhere.
"Leaving without saying goodbye?"
I turned away from the garage door and smiled sweetly. "Bye."
"Do you wanna skip today?" He offered, leaning against the island. "Maybe get some sleep since you didn't shut your eyes last night?"
Ignoring my dad's obvious attempt to make amends with me over his lack of tact by giving me the option to skip, I shook my head.
"No, I'll just get coffee on the way. There are things I need to take care of today."
And lives to destroy.
"Alright, well come give your old man a hug then."
I stalled for a moment before I forced myself to walk over and wrap my arms around him. "See you later."
"Yeah," he kissed the top of my head. "Maybe after school, if you're not busy, we can hang out. Just the two of us. We can go get that new car you were talking about."
I perked up and grinned, tightening my hold briefly before letting. "Really? Oh my god! Yes! Thanks, dad. You're the best."
"Mhmm," he gave me a slightly amused look. "Isn't it funny how I'm always the best when I'm giving you what you want?"
I shrugged and reached up to peck his cheek. "A pattern you should keep in mind for the future."
I skipped out of the house, my mood soaring every so slightly.
By the time I had made my Starbucks run and arrived at school I was an hour late. The secretary shook her head at me as she wrote out my late slip.
"Should I bother asking if you have a valid excuse for being late, Miss Harrington?" The aging woman asked, scrawling across the slip with her pen.
"Anne, L.A. traffic is dreadful this time of the morning," I sighed, sipping my iced caramel macchiato. "And the line at Starbucks is even worse. I think that counts as a valid excuse, don't you?"
"No," she ripped off my pass and handed it to me. "Get to class, please, and no detours."
"I wouldn't think of it," I said seriously. "I would hate to miss anymore class time than I already have. You know how seriously I take school."
"Mhmm," she smiled slightly. "Get going."
I flashed her a smile and walked out of the office. I made a beeline for the gym and entered my coach's office located in the girl's locker room.
"Justine," I sang, stopping in the doorway. "May I have a word?"
Justine looked up from her computer and raised her eyebrows. "Juliet, shouldn't you be in class?"
"I was running a little late, and before I headed to class I wanted to discuss something with you," I sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk.
She sat back in her chair and waved a hand. "Okay, but hurry it up. I don't want you missing valuable learning time."
"How valuable is knowing the limit of a function really?" I asked, sucking on my straw.
"Juliet."
"Okay, okay," I crossed my legs and pulled my best remorseful look. "I just wanted to let you know that last night Stacey came to me and informed me she would no longer be cheering with us."
Justine frowned. "What?"
"Mhmm," I nodded, stirring the ice in my cup. "She's, uh, too tied up in other extracurricular activities."
"I don't understand," she shook her head. "Stacey is quitting? Stacey? She loves cheerleading."
"I thought so too, and I'm a little disappointed she would do this so far into the season. It's going to be such a pain trying to fill her place. A little selfish if you ask me," I sighed. "I guess we'll have to hold another round of tryouts."
"Why wouldn't she come talk to me about her decision?"
I shrugged. "She respects my authority."
My coach studied me for a moment before giving me a look. "Juliet, I really hope you didn't force Stacey off this team in anyway because that would not be okay at al-"
"Justine," I interrupted her. "I would never try to force a girl off of the team. What kind of person do you think I am? Besides, would Stacey really listen to me if I did try?"
She tapped her fingers together. "I suppose not, but if I ask her about this her story will collaborate with yours?"
"Of course," I jumped up as the bell rang. "Well, gotta get to class. See you later."
I rushed out of the office and slipped into the hallway, starting the walk to my locker. I tried to ignore the looks I was getting, but my short temper made that impossible. Especially since I knew why all eyes of the student body seemed to be on me, but before I could snap at the people unfortunate to be in my vicinity Additri and Jade flanked me on either side.
"Jules," Additri wrapped an arm around my shoulder in a one armed hug. "Jade told me about the whole Lucas thing. I'm so sorry."
"It seems Jade told everyone," I shot her a nasty look.
"I only told, like, a few people," she said defensively. "Besides, people were going to find out eventually. I totally spun the rumor wheel in your favor. You're basically a martyr now."
"Do you even know what martyr means, Jade?" Additri asked with an eye roll.
"Of course I do," she sniffed. "It means, like, someone who's totally worshiped because a backstabbing hoe bag hopped in bed with that someone's boyfriend."
I nodded as Additri rolled her eyes again.
"People are going to be avoiding StacAIDs like the plague," Jade tapped my arm, grinning. "You thought the rumors about her disease had people running? Associating with Juliet Harrington's number one enemy is like committing social suicide. Scratch that, it's like committing treason."
"Well, I'm glad people are being so emphatic," I sighed, twirling my finger around the braid hanging off my shoulder. "I'm just so heartbroken, as you can imagine. Can you believe Lucas would cheat on me? Me? That's like trading in a diamond for a piece of copper. It's like trading in a Chanel purse for a Michael Korrs. It's like Justin Bieber cheating on Selena Gomez with all those cheap Instagram models. Only it's ten times worse because I'm me."
"Men don't know a good thing when they have it," Additri shook her head. "It's disgraceful to lower your standards in such a way. It doesn't get any better than you."
"You know the best solution for getting over a guy is by getting under another one," Jade said wisely. "You should hook up with Ken from the baseball team, he's a hottie. Oooh! How about Ryan from the hockey team? Hockey is on the rise as a sport you know. Much better than football."
"Or she could go with Arsen," Additri smirked.
I gave her a disgusted look as Jade frowned.
"What team is he on?"
"He's Juliet's tutor," Additri probed her memory. "Remember?"
"Ohhh," Jade paused, and then smirked at me. "I didn't know you dated the help."
"Jade," Additri gave her a look before I could retort. "Come on."
"What? He is the help basically. He's her tutor, isn't he? Now that would be social suicide," she shuddered. "What would people say? What would people think? That's like a royal courting a peasant. I couldn't even imagine."
"First of all, nothing I do could be considered social suicide because I am the standard for all things," I rolled my shoulders back. "Second of all, you don't have to imagine because that would never happen. Additri is just being annoying."
"You said you thought he was cute," she reminded me
Jade stared at me, and I shrugged.
"He is cute. That's nothing more than simple Biology."
"What do you know about Biology?" Additri smirked.
I gave her a narrowed eyed look. "Don't be a bitch. Anyway, let's move on to more important topics," my eyes flickered up to the roof. "Stacey is off the team."
"Shut up," Jade laughed.
"Seriously?" Additri raised her eyebrows. "How did you manage that?"
"I didn't have to manage anything," I shrugged with a small smile. "She resigned."
"Who's going to fill her spot?" Jade asked, her smile dropping a bit. "I mean, I hate to admit it, but Stacey was kind of awesome. The team will lack without her."
"Not if we find someone better," I said breezily. "Which we will."
___________
"I want this one," I said, sliding my hand against the glossy white pant of the brand new Range Rover parked among the sea of expensive looking cars. "I don't have a Range Rover."
"That's because you totaled the one I got you two years ago," Dad reminded me as he studied the car carefully.
"Did I?" I raked my mind, trying to remember this alleged incident, but was only met with a blank. "I don't remember that."
"You have the tendency of blocking out most of your wrongdoings," he chuckled. "Thankfully, one of us has a long memory."
"Yeah, I'm so thankful," I muttered, opening the car door and climbing into the driver seat. "Get in."
I pretended to steer the wheel as my dad climbed into the passenger seat. My legs bounced in excitement at the mere thought of all the envious looks I would get driving into school with this.
"Daddy, this is the perfect car," I glanced over at him and turned on the big brown pleading eyes. "Seriously, it has my name all over it."
"I don't know," he ran his hand over the black interior. "Black is too plain for an interior don't you think? Too common."
"Of course we would get it reupholstered. I was thinking we white everything out, keep the black dashboard, and have lavender stitching on the seats. Wouldn't that be so pretty?"
"Gorgeous," he grinned. "You, my dear, have the mind of an interior decorator."
"Hardly," I suppressed the sigh that was building up in my chest. "I'm warning you now, don't start."
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to say anything, it's in that stupid grin," I sat back in my seat. "I already told you I'm not taking over your company."
"Juliet, be reasonable."
"I am being reasonable," I shrugged. "That's your career. Doesn't mean it has to be mine."
"But wouldn't it be nice to already have something waiting for you when you get out of college?"
I rolled my eyes and bit back my groan.
Here we go.
"Speaking of college," he began as I knew he would. "I was wondering what schools you've decided to apply to."
"I haven't decided on anything," I shrugged. "It hasn't been high on my priority list."
"Huh uh," he stared at me. "And what is high on your priority list?"
Aside from scattering Stacey's ashes across the globe?
"Acquiring the newest Louis Vuitton wedges before anyone else gets them," I smiled dreamily just thinking about the beauties. "The heels look like they're made of actual gold."
"Juliet," Dad said sternly. "I'm being serious."
"So am I. They're from the new spring collection in case you wanted to get me a present just because."
"It's time to get serious, Jules," he gave me a hard look. "You can't fool around for the rest of your life."
"Why not?"
He ignored me and continued with his thought. "You know, I was thinking that maybe you would want to try for Princeton."
I blinked and raised my eyebrows as I turned my head to stare at him. "Princeton....University?" I threw my head back and laughed. "Oh my god. What, are you joking?"
"What? You know, I went to Princeton."
"Yes, dad, I am very well aware you went to Princeton. You've only told me about sixty hundred thousand times," I rolled my eyes. "But I think you're missing something big here. If I could get into Princeton I wouldn't need a tutor...or be failing all my classes."
"You shouldn't sell yourself short. You've done pretty decent the past three years, and if you do what you're suppose to and get your grades up I could probably help you out. You know, a buddy of mine is head of admissions over there. I could give him a call, set up an interview for you?"
"I'll think about it," I lied. "Although, if I were to go anywhere I would probably go to UCLA."
"Oh, yeah? Why?"
"James Franco went there."
He let out a deep sigh. "I'll ignore that," he paused. "So....you wanna talk about those boy problems?"
I sat back in my seat and shrugged. "Lucas and I broke up?"
His eyebrows arched. "Your version of break up or the official version of break up?"
I smirked a little. "The official version," my smile dropped slightly. "He cheated on me."
He reached over to rub my shoulder. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Are you okay?"
"I'm more than okay. He's a dick, and I can do better. Excuse my French."
"No, I think that's fairly appropriate ," he smiled. "I never liked Lucas that much anyway."
"You don't like any boy I'm romantically interested in."
"Because I'm your dad. It's my job," he shrugged. "So, let's go write a check for this car, then go home and eat some ice cream. It helps with the break up healing process."
"Cookie dough ice cream?" I asked hopefully.
"With cookie dough on the side."
I smiled and opened the car door to hop out.