chapt1
"hey are you okay?" asked the boy sounding (surprisingly) concerned.
"yeah fi-" that was all I got out before hacking up my lunch over the side of the boat.
"oh my gosh what happened?" my mother asked as she hurried over from her place flirting with the pool boy.
" I don't know ma'am I think she is just sea sick" said the brunette who had asked me if I was okay
"oh sweet heart! Come on lets go back to the cabin and get u washed up" she said ushering me away. I knew she was putting on her im-a-loving-mother-not-a-two-timing-tramp facade for the hot (hopefully single) life guard. The moment we were out of earshot she turned on me.
"just what was that?!" she half screamed
"that" I paused, swaying on the spot.
"was exactly what it looked like." I finished before emptying what was left of my stomach onto her brand new heels.
"ugh! I didn't miss prom and keep you for this!" she yelled. I mentally rolled my eyes. She was pulling THAT card again. Ever since I could remember she had used the same, u-ruined-my-life-for-being-born mantra, you see she had me 13 years ago, when she was only fifteen. When my alleged father found this out he left her. and honestly? I don't blame him. I would have too. Heck I'm surprised he put up with her long enough to conceive me!
"Oh get up! Pathetic twig" she grabbed my elbow dragging me to our small room on the lower deck.
"Now stay in here until I come to get you! We have an important dance tonight with my...-ahem- boss" she said mischievously. When she was gone, I groaned, covering my face with a pillow. The only reason we were on this cruise was thanks to my mom's boss (or future boy friend as she refers to him sometimes). Bruce Wayne; famous playboy and richest man in Gotham city. He was needed for an important meeting in the Bahamas and had decided to take his yacht. Unfortunately my mother was also needed for this meeting. so she hitched a ride with Bruce. Not wanting to look like a bad parent (though she was) she dragged me along with her. So now I was stuck on this floating death trap, puking up what little amount of food I managed to swallow.
Sighing I stood up from the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Grabbing the pep to bismal I chugged it, grimacing at the bad taste. I then headed over to the closet trying to decide on a dress to wear to the dance tonight. I tried on 5 or so dresses before mom came into the room
"well are you ready yet?" she asked raising an eyebrow
"I can't pick anything" I frowned at her. after matching my frown with a glare she walked over to the bed and pointed to a strapless, skin-tight, silver dress, that stopped mid-thigh
"this one" she stated
"no" I answered instantly
"it would make you look like you actually have curves" she stated
"but I would look like... you" I stated as if it were the most disgusting thing in the world
"oh please you would never be pretty enough to look like me" she stated swishing her hair. I glared at her irritably. she responded curtly
"nevertheless I will be back in 30 min I expect you to have picked something" when she left the room I decided on the long sleeved lacy midnight blue, that flowed to the ground.
It was true, me and my mother had never looked alike. Instead of perfect platinum blonde I had wavy black hair and no curves, yes you herd me right none, zero, zilch! Unlike her I was a flippen twig. When she was my age however her curves doubled with her height made people think she was at least 18. That's another thing that is apposite about us I was average height, if a little short. The only thing we actually did share was our green almond shaped eyes and our skin. You wouldn't know it though by looking at us. My mom had a spray tan to hide the creamy pale skin we shared and I wore blue contacts. I always was thankful I looked mostly like my father. Since I was 4 I have put every fiber of my being into trying to make it so me and my mother were nothing alike. Needless to say I didn't like my mother very much, and she, I could tell, disliked me even more.
After putting on some mascara and a little foundation on the scattered bits of acne on my chin I had just finished running a brush through my hair before mom came bursting into the room.
"Skyler! Move your lazy butt we are going to be late!" she yelled waving her arms frantickly I stood up calmly and walked to the door. my black flats barely making a sound on the carpet. She shook her head in disapproval at my choice. In response I glared at her in her shiny, black, skin tight, v-neck dress. "Look who's talking." I responded to the unspoken statement. she gave me the stop-reading-my-mind-glare before tapping out the door in her black high heels. Of course, I hadn't actually read her mind. Once you got to know my mom however; you will find her a very predictable person. It's usually quite easy to figure out just what she is going to say next.
I fallowed glaring at the back of her head, mentally drilling holes through those perfect golden locks. When we finally got out on to the deck my mother paused before turning her head and narrowed her eyes she said in a scathing whisper
"remember, paper plates" I rolled my eyes in response. Ever since my father had left her 15 and pregnant, she had labeled all men as worthless scum. Her motto was, 'men are like paper plates. You by them, use them, then throw them away.' collecting broken hearts has basic become her hobby by now. And, as I mentioned before, she had her sights set on millionaire Bruce Wayne. I gave him until the end of the cruise to cave.
The moment we walked onto the deck my mom strutted up to a tall man in his early 30's. He was wearing a carefully pressed silk suit and tie.
"Aah Bruce how nice to see you!" She exclaimed as if she had no idea he would be on his own cruise ship.
"Bruce this is my daughter Skyler. Skyler this is Bruce Wayne my boss!" she gushed I forced myself to act civil and smiled "nice to meet you Skyler" Bruce responded shaking my hand
"I believe you have met my ward Richard" he stated it was then that I realized that standing right next to him was the boy from earlier
"You can call me Dick" he stated reaching out and shaking my hand.
"Nice to meet you" I responded politely though inside I was screaming. Probably the only skill I wished I shared with my mother was her ability to act. Never before have I wished more for the ability to keep a straight face in a crisis. I say this mainly because now that I could get a good look at him (without the distraction of vomiting all over the floor) I realized he was actually kind of cute, with light blue eyes and somewhat spiky black hair. After suffering through all the introductions (courtesy of my mother) I headed over to the edge of the deck, leaning precariously over the railing. A few seconds later I heard a nervous
"hey" directly behind my neck. in the moment after, 4 things happened at once. First I jumped a foot in the air. Next I slipped on my landing. Then, dick grayson grabbed my arm to try and stop my fall, but only tripped over my legs and fell on top of me. Finally, we both blushed redder than humanly possible. The two of us sort of froze, Each person trying to figure out an un-awkward way to fix this. Finally, I decided to end this before my mom noticed what was going on.
"um...ya you are kind of...on me" I stammered. trying to phrase my statement in a non-weird way. Mission impossible.
"oh! Ya um ya sorry bout that" he responded awkwardly (shocker) the brunette quickly stood up and reached his hand out to help me up. I didn't take it, standing up myself. All the while trying to regain what little amount of dignity I had left. It was then I remembered the pimple I had so carefully covered up in the bathroom earlier. I silently prayed he hadn't noticed it.
"so..." I trailed off awkwardly. "so" he responded with equal awkwardness
"did you want to dance" he offered in an attempt to ease the stiff atmosphere.
"uh..." I glanced around to make sure mom was nowhere in sight
"s...sure" I hesitated wondering if this was such a good idea. Truth be told I didn't entirely disagree with my mother when it came to guys. Yes I understood why my father left my mother but at the same time... I think guys are ...unpredictable. If they don't like something they don't give it a chance. Which is why I was so worried. I have never been a very good dancer... okay I stunk. Tonight was no exception. I stumbled twice and stepped on his feet at least 3 times, if not more. When we finally decided to stop it was nearly 10 and I was tired. We went and sat at one of the nearby tables. "well that was...interesting" dick murmured carefully I chuckled sarcasticly
"well that's one way to put it" as apposed to saying that was the worst experience iv ever had before in my life. which ya know is what would've said in his place. I didn't get a chance to voice my opinions however before my whole world was blown sky high.