First real fanfic, all reviews are greatly appreciated. – Love Allie. Basically this about a rich Bella, having to live with a poor person, and falling in love in Washington. Better than it sounds.
Bella POV
The tenacious sound of my alarm has been ringing for the past two minutes. Nonetheless I can't bring myself to extend my arm and turn off the damned thing. My head is pounding from a nasty hangover and I feel as though I'm about to puke my stomach out. Finally the horrific beeping ceases, and I raise my head to meet a pair of disapproving grey eyes.
"Miss Bella shouldn't be out partying until early in morning," scolds Anastasia, my Russian nanny. Some people would find it silly that any 17-year-old girl still has a nanny, those people have clearly never lived in Manhattan. Anastasia has lived with us since the day I was born, coddling and caring after me the way a mother should. In all senses but biological, I truly did see Ana as my mother.
My real mother, Elizabeth, was never present. She owned her own fashion company and was at the peak of her success. Her lines were more coveted than even the most exquisite Oscar De La Renta. I, of course, wasn't complaining. I always had the trendiest outfits and the most delightfully expensive pieces to choose from in my closet- the spare room down the hall.
Daddy was the CEO of the wealthiest company in Manhattan. He owned half the city and many more businesses around the world. He came home about once every three months for one weekend. Nathanial Vanderbilt was the wealthiest man in the world, and I was ever so proud to call him my Daddy.
Perhaps my life seems sad to an outsider, they probably pity me. "The daughter of the power couple of the world, poor kid, probably never see's her parents." Those who say that know nothing. We children of the Upper East Side of Manhattan all live this way. We wouldn't have it any other way. Why would we? We have everything we want when we want it, whenever we want it.
Stretching my sore arms above my head, I slip out of bed and over to the connecting washroom. I check the time on my Rolex before regretfully deciding that I didn't have time for a bath this morning. A hot shower would have to do.
The hot water does wonders for my muscles; still sore after whatever it is that I did last night at Charlotte's party. I smile fondly thinking of my green eyed-auburn haired best friend. Charlotte and I had been best friends ever since our first day at preschool. Neither of us were too fond of our teacher's teaching methods. Honestly, making a bunch of four year olds sit through disgusting tales of farm animals was horrific, something no one approved of. Kids of our stature should have been read books about socialites and businessmen not about pigs and dogs named bingo. Though at four years old, there was very little I could do about it other than sit in the far corner of the reading mat and gossip with the redhead sitting next to me. That was the day that Isabella Vanderbilt and Charlotte De La Costa became best friends.
I quickly turn off the water and dry off while glancing at the time once more. Fuck. I won't even have time to straighten my hair. I hastily slip on a uniform from the line of clothes available to my school. I select a simple combination of a white blouse, with a navy skirt and blazer. I simply do not have time to waste on planning an extravagant outfit today. Besides, it's Monday.
Usually, I wouldn't worry much about arriving to class on time, but today, our Headmistress stressed punctuality. We have a first period assembly that apparently cannot be missed. As I pull tendrils of my hair into a neat French braid, I idly wonder why an assembly could me so important. Perhaps a new teacher, or a new program has been offered. I quickly end the braid at the nape of my neck and pull the rest of my half curly-half straight blonde hair into a ponytail. There. I've somehow found a way to make my morning after hair look somewhat presentable. Fastening on my navy blue Louboutin's, I grab my purse; shove my Blackberry, my MacBook and a pen into it before rushing to the kitchen.
Ana's waiting for me with a croissant and a tall glass of Orange Juice in her hand, her grey eyes burning holes into me disapprovingly. I shoot her a sheepish smile as I sit down and devour the croissant in front of me quickly. Ana hands me two Advil's to take with my orange juice and I send her a grateful smile before kissing her cheek.
"Don't wait up, Ana dear"
"Yes, Miss Bella. You be home for Dinner?"
"Indeed I will be, Ana. Perhaps with company, I'll let you know"
Stepping into the elevator that will take me down to the lobby I marvel at the beauty of the building that I live in. With its marble floors and Brazilian wood, it's a real beauty. My heels clack loudly against the flawless floors as I make my way to the golden doors that will lead me to 5th Avenue. I smile gracefully at the doorman, Vincent as he opens the door for me; I've known Vincent my whole life. He's been opening doors for me from the moment I could walk in my adorable Jimmy Choo booties, in ever colour, of course.
The sun momentarily blinds me and does nothing to aid my hangover. I fetch my tortoise shell white gold sunglasses from my purse and hastily slip them on, shielding my dark blue eyes from the scalding sun. I walk for barely a minute and a half before a sleek black limo slides up beside me. Smiling to myself ruefully, I slip into vehicle and let my head rest on the leather of the seats.
"Morning babe."
"Good morning doll. How's that hangover?"
"Brutal ... but worth it."
Charlotte smiles at me, bearing her perfect white teeth. Since we'd attended high school, we've been taking turns giving each other rides to school in our families' cars, well, limos. Figures that Char would be late too. Her messy auburn hair is pulled into a lazy ponytail that only she could pull off as not looking sloppy. "It's 9:05, crap. We'll get the shittiest seats in the auditorium" she moans while furiously texting on her Blackberry.
"Not to worry, Char," I start in a singsong voice. "I've asked Katherine and Scarlett to save us seats." Charlotte sends me a grateful smile, her green eyes sparkling. You really do think of everything, Bell. We glance at each other shooting each other bored looks as the black gates of our Academy open up. The anciently beautiful building that we call school comes to sight as we quickly exit the car and rush towards the auditorium. We quickly spot our two other friends in the third row of the auditorium with two spare eats beside them.
We met Scarlett Hathaway and Katherine Kassidy in the third grade when our classes got mixed together. Scarlett's jet-black hair and grey eyes made her look like a total bitch even at the young age of 8. Katherine on the other hand with light brown hair and warm brown eyes seemed like a sweetheart. Surprisingly, it was the other way around. On the other side of the auditorium I spot Katherine's twin brother Kameron, total babe. The Kassidy family had the odd urge to have all their names start with 'K'. As tacky as the Kardashian's looked doing it, it seemed right when done by the Kassidy's.
Beside Kameron, I meet a pair of ice blue eyes. Christian. Christian and I have … what some would say a thing. To be honest, at times I didn't know if we were more than friends, just friends or plain strangers. "You made out with him last night-," hissed Scarlett. I must have looked frightened because Katherine quickly rectified "He initiated it Bell." Glancing back at Christian, I send him a smile. The smile. The one only he gets to receive. He answers with a wink of his own before straightening up to look towards where our Headmistress is standing.
Straightening up myself I glance up at the Headmistress myself. Headmistress Kavanagh is an old woman with clearly conservative views on life. She's a total bitch that wants nothing but the best for her students. As much as people complain about her being an old hag, you truly can't help but love her.
"Dear Young Males and Females of Astoria Private School. For years I have watched all of you grow and flourish. You have all become very amazing individuals. Freshman, I admit that I haven't had the chance to get to know you all very well. Seniors, you have quickly become like my children. Thankfully, you are not. However I have a gift for you all. A mandatory four month project for the Graduating Class to prepare you all for the real world."
Charlotte sends me a WTF-look. I send her a puzzled look of my own. Astoria has never done this before. Ever. This school feeds on Tradition. This was not tradition.
"You will all be sent to a small town, far away from Manhattan. You will live with a normal middle class family. For four months, you will all live the life of normal people. You will all learn the value of a dollar. Please, save me the typical 'My parents will hear about this' tantrum, your families have all been contacted. Participation is mandatory. No exceptions. If you want to graduate, you will go on this trip. You will receive all information about your new family's in a few days."
This time, I ignore Charlotte's desperate look. I cast my eyes across the room towards Christian. Our eyes meet both of us sporting horrified looks.
"There is more. We are not foolish. Sending off the richest kids in the world off into middle class families, we do value your safety. Therefore, you will be disguised. You will have a wig, contacts, a new wardrobe and identity. This is even more beneficial that you can ever imagine. A lot of you count on your looks to get you places. You will all truly live a normal life for four months. I know you all might hate me now, but trust me kids, you will thank me for this someday.
Somehow through my rage and anger at the establishment I call school, I found a way to make it through all my morning classes. I do notice however, that Christian did not. Making my way through the Courtyard, I spot him leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette. I quickly cross the street to meet him and immediately smell the marijuana off him. His cold blue eyes meet my dark blue ones as I slip into his arms and quickly snatch the cigarette from his hands. I hold his gaze as I put the cigarette between my lips and take a drag. I contemplate blowing the smoke out onto his face to show my displeasure about him skipping class to get high but quickly decide against it.
"You shouldn't be smoking, Isabella."
"Neither should you, babe." I cringe at my slip at the term of endearment, hoping that he doesn't react negatively to it.
"I was hungry."
"Well then you shouldn't have skipped class to get high, you idiot" I couldn't help but snap.
"Well baby, what do you say you and me finish this J and then I'll treat my favourite girl to lunch?"
He presses his forehead to mine as he pulls me close.
I tilt my head up to stare into the eyes I can't help but get lost in.
I shouldn't.
He kisses my jaw before making his way down to my neck.
It's done. We both know I will.
Grabbing his hand, I pull him further down towards the park. I can't help but giggle when I spot his boyish smile. He drops my hand and pulls me closer to him, near a lake. It's romantic in a way, kicking a joint on a lake. It's romantic in a way only Christian and I can make it. It's illegal, but it's so us. We don't speak about last night. We don't speak about how the next four months are going to be.
"Dinner with me, babe? At my place?" Christian hands me the now tiny joint before nodding with sparkling eyes. I take a toke and relish in the familiar taste in my mouth. Who knows when's the next time I will ever be doing this with Christian ever again? Fuck this new project, I scream angrily before exhaling.
"Baby? As much as I can't wait for dinner tonight, how about grabbing a slice of Pizza for now?"
I grin at Christian before standing, the effects of the drug quickly coming over me. I kiss Christian gingerly before hastily making my way to the pizzeria. I wonder how much life will change for me in the next four months. "Promise you'll go to your afternoon classes?" Christian shoots me another one of his boyish grins, "Only because they're with you babe."
At that moment, I decide that I hate Headmistress Kavanagh. I hate her stupid program. I don't want to go away, I want to stay right here, with Christian, in Manhattan.