Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars or Twilight.
Port Angeles, Washington. The town without a middle class. If you live here, your parents are either millionaires or your parents work for millionaires. Guess which category I belong to? My parents don't own their own airline like Mike Newton, or serve as ambassador to Belgium like Lauren Mallory. But my father used to be sheriff. And that had a certain cache. But, let's be honest, the only reason I was allowed past the velvet ropes was Jasper Hale. Son of software billionaire Logan Hale. He used to be my boyfriend. Then there was his sister Rosalie. She was my best friend. I hope you've noticed the past tense in all of this. I had the life every teenager dreams of. It all came crashing down last year when Rosalie was found murdered. But you've all heard this story. It was on the cover of People magazine. Even Entertainment Tonight. And I'm sure you've heard about the bungling local sheriff, the one who went after the wrong guy. Well, that bungling local sheriff was my dad. And the good people of Port Angeles gathered their torches and pitchforks to have Dad thrown out. An emergency recall election had him removed from office. Mom wanted to move. The loss of money, the loss of status were too much for her. We were going to move alright; we couldn't afford to stay in our house. But Dad and I weren't going to be run out of town. A few weeks later she split. School wasn't the same either. Last year I was given a choice, either side with my friends, the Hales, or stand by my dad. I chose Dad. It's a decision I live with every day.
a/n- I don't really write much but this idea has been bugging me for awhile. I'm not sure where I'm planning to take it so let me know if anyone is interested. Thanks for reading.