So here's the first chapter... hope you like it!!
Chapter 1
“Ella, would you please run a brush through that hair? You look like you're trying to balance a bird's on your head,” my mother said, turning to me in the taxi. I rolled my eyes and just ignored her. She sighed and began to examine her red fingernails as I stared out the window.
We were on our way to dear Charles' house, the house that my mother would soon begin to call home. I wouldn't, though. Not until Charles died, which I was praying would be soon.
Now, please don't get me wrong. I'm usually a very loving, kind person, but you just don't know Charles. He could really drive someone to pull their hair out. He wasn't mean or anything... he was just weird. But what can I say? The fact that he was my mother's partner in crime in making my life a living hell did not help him, not at all.
Instead of brushing my hair, I pulled my black hair up into a ponytail and slipped it under a red baseball cap. It was frayed at the edges, and apparently, according to my mother, “the color of a monster-truck does not compliment my features”, but I loved it. She hated it, which only made me love it more.
“Oh, my dear Ella, don't wear that stupid horrible thing. Charles is inviting neighbors over for dinner to meet us tonight. You don't want them to think you come from a Texas trailer, do you?” my mom asked. Sometimes she could really get on my nerves.
“Mom, let me get this through you head, okay?” I asked, twisting in the seat. “I don’t care if your stupid boyfriend or his neighbors think I came from Texas, even more I don’t want to know them so chill I won’t be there. An between remember when I was a kid we used to live in a “Texas trailer” remember?”
“Ugh, don't remind me. That was the worst year of my life.” I scoffed and turned to the window again. She was being such a hypocrite. And all because of Charles, shut I hate him?
“ Oh, driver! Driver! This is it!” mom called to the front. I peered out the window and saw the taxi pulling into a circular driveway that led to a rather large house. I violently threw open the car door and stepped out onto the lawn, being sure to stomp on the grass. Surely that would annoy Charles enough to make me happy for a few minutes.
“Gabriella! get off the grass!” my mom called. I stomped on with a pretty satisfied look on my face, but I just pretended I hadn't heard her.
Charles threw open the door with a large, fake smile on his face. I couldn't help but crack up.
“Uh, Charlie, I think you better ask for a refund on the Botox injection,” I laughed. He didn't understand. The fake-baking had obviously damaged his brain cells (assuming, of course, that he had any brain cells in the first place).
“Excuse me?” he asked with a weird face. Something that just make me laughs even harder.
“Nothing,” I said
He straightened his tie and hurried out to my mom with his arms open wide.
“Sharon! How was the flight?” he called. After he kissed her, I turned away and stepped inside the house. As I stepped through the doorway, I looked at the house next to Charles'. It was a tad bit larger, and looked a lot cozier than Charles'.
I have to say, I was impressed by the house, but I didn't say that. When Charles asked me what I thought of it, I just shrugged, running my finger along the mantle, looking desperately for a speck of dirt that I could tease him for.
“Where's my room?” I asked.
“Ella” my mom warned, hinting at how rude I was behaving. I ignored her and looked at Charles.
“Upstairs. The first door on your right. I think you'll find it to your liking.” He said smiling.
I nodded and looked at him strangely. I think you'll find it to your liking? Who the hell says that?
But he was wrong. The room was not to my liking. It was all pink and red with a purple, I know horrible combination. I quickly took out my black covers with my name on purple on it, take al the ballet posters and covered every inch of my red walls with posters of my favorite bands aka Good Charlotte, Simple Plan Nickelback, Switchfoot and the Jonas Brothers.
The only thing I didn’t change about that room was the purple carpet that matched my covers so that save it.
And finally the desks and dressers and shelves. Let's just say that graffiti goes pretty well with antique furniture.
I couldn't wait until Charles took a look at my masterpiece
--->Gabby<---
