H
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Chapter 1
I readjusted my strap on my backpack and grabbed my suitcases.
The plane ride over was relatively boring, I slept most it.
Walking out of the airport, I was hit with the hot L.A air. There
was a man in a black suit standing outside the airport with my
name on it. Behind him was a limo, they sent a limo, a freaking
limo. To pick up just one person.
“Hello, you must be Ms. Hamilton. Your father sent me to
pick you up.” The driver said with a smile.
“Please, call me Carter.” I shook his hand, and then
hopped into the back seat, while the diver put stuff in the back.
For the duration of the ride, I was staring out of the window
taking in my new “home.” The truth is, I will never
call this home. Home is in Miami, with my best friend, my dog,
and my mom. But unfortunately life’s not fair. When you
love something it gets taken away from you. So kids, the
lesson is: Appreciate what you have before it becomes what you
had.
The driver pulled into a drive way of a gigantic house. Like
shocking big, it was weird. There are three (now four) people
living in that house. No one needs that much room. I swear 17
elephants could live there.
Waiting for me was my father and what I am guessing to be my step
mother. I grabbed my suitcases from the back and headed to greet
them.
“Carter, it’s great to see you.” My father
said, while awkwardly hugging me. That right people, I get a
“it’s great to see you.” No how are you, how
are you feeling.
“You too…” I said pulling away. I was lying, I
didn’t want to see him, not one bit. After that little
encounter with my father, I moved on to my step mother.
“Hi, I’m Carter,” I stuck my hand out for her
to shake “you must be Rebecca.”
She looked at my hand with a disgusted face then looked back at
me, “Yes, that me, but you will address me as Mrs.
Hamilton.” ‘Mrs. Hamilton’ said while flipping
her long hair over her should. I looked at my fahter with a face
that said are-you-being-freaking-serious. He was too busy looking
at Rebecca dreamily. Well, this is going to be
terrific!
"Marice went out with some of her friends,
she'll be back sometime tonight." My father said. Marcie
is my step-sister.
~*~
Later that night, I was un packing my stuff into my new
bedroom when my father called me downstairs. When I got down the
steps I has a wonderful suprise waiting for me.
Marcie. She was sitting there checking out her manicure, sitting
on a couch, looking impaitent.
"Hi, I'm Carter." I stuck my hand out for her to
shake. Wow, she is exactly like her uptight mother. Maybe with a
little more attitude. She sat there look at my hand, like she
could get some type of desiese from it. I awkwardly put my hand
down and started walking back to the stairs when my father spoke
again.
"Carter, don't be rude. Stay and have a
conversation." He said with his arm around the wicked woman
of the west. With clenched fists I walked over to the couch
Marcie was sitting on and sat on the oppisite side of it. Marcie
lookedd at me then rolled her eyes. I don't even know why
they hate me, I never did anything to them, but here we are,
Rebecca glaring at me from across the room and Marcie looking at
me like I just killed someone. What a wonderful first day
here, I can't for the rest.
Thank you for reading. It would mean a lot if you could
comment what you think. Even if you think it sucks, comment and
tell me so I can get better. Xx
-Liz
H
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Prologue
You know, moving to a new school sucks, especially with a
bunch of snobby rich kids.
Maybe I should introduce myself to you guys, I’m Carter
Hamilton. Right now, I’m in on a plane to Malibu.
I happen to be moving there all the way from Miami, Florida. My
lovely father (note my sarcasm) used to live there with me and my
mom, but he left us for a girl half his age and moved to Malibu.
He left my mother to take care of me alone. I was only 8 at the
time he left, but I understood what was going on.
That matured me a lot, for example when my friends would have
days of school they would spend them hanging out and talking. I
would spend them with my mom, or working. Don’t get me
wrong, I would hang out with my friends, just not a lot. Also
when people would go out to parties and get drunk, I would be at
home, studying or cleaning.
When I was 14, my mom was diagnosed with Cancer. I would stay
with her, take care of her, clean, cook, and do everything. It
got worse and worse. After 2 years of fighting, my mom died. Now
I have to move in with my dad, my step-mother, and step-sister. I
haven’t met my step-mother or step-sister but I have seen
pictures. They look plastic, with bleach blonde hair, faces caked
in makeup, and overall slutty appearance. All I have to say is: I
won’t be enjoying this.
Tell me what you think. Thank you for reading.
Xx