My name is Karen Brewer and I'm a millionaire. Well, not really. My father is the millionaire. But that was my first thought when I woke up on the last day of summer vacation. Most of my family and I had spent the summer in France and I would tell the Frenchies how much money we had. They were quite rude until they found out. My family always says not to mention how much money we have but I just can't help it. I mean, what's the point of having money if you can't brag about it once in awhile? Anyway, the summer had been wonderful. We had visited the whole country, including wine vineyards, the South of France and even Paris. It had been a trip with my father's family. My parents have been divorced since I was about six. They used to have joint custody of my brother, Andrew, until the sixth grade when my mother and stepfather, Seth, moved to California. Andrew and I have been living with my father ever since. We visit my mother every now and then but mostly we're happy living with my dad. Did I mention he was a millionaire? I love my mom and all but really, why would I want to live in a dinky apartment in California when I could live in a mansion in Connecticut? Our house is even nicer than some of the mansions featured on cribs. True, my dad and stepmother, Elizabeth, have terrible taste in decoration and the inside of our house looks like a Target catalogue. It's so incredibly ordinary that it's hideous. My room, on the other hand, is gorgeous. It's painted lavender with white shag carpeting. I have a dressing table, a white fainting couch, a walk in closet and a canopy California King Bed.
When I woke up in my lilac printed comforter, still dreaming of France, I rubbed my crusty eyes and yawned. The sun was streaming through my windows, giving the room a lovely, early morning glow. I crossed my room into my private bathroom and took a hot shower. Twenty minutes later, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a terrycloth robe and stepped into my matching slippers. I pulled out my blow dryer and round brush and styled my shoulder length blonde hair into a sleek high ponytail. I pulled out my cosmetics and applied sunscreen, blush and lip-gloss. Then I went to my closet to figure out the outfit of the day.
Sighing, I rifled through my wardrobe. I wanted an electric, revolving closet like the one in the movie Clueless but Daddy said that was going overboard. So I settled for an ultra modern, fully compartmented one like the one Carrie has in Sex and the City 2. I settled on a pink Free People sundress and a striped Betsy Johnson cardigan. I slipped on tan Michael Kors Wedges and topped off the whole outfit with a pair of very small gold hoops and a couple of gold bangles. I looked in the mirror and, satisfied, I headed downstairs. I never like for anyone to see me looking less than my best.
"Good morning family!" I chirped as I made my way to the refrigerator. Elizabeth was making pancakes at the stove. Andrew and my stepsiblings, David Michael and Emily Michelle, were sitting at our long table looking sleepy while Daddy sat at the head of the table reading the Wall Street Journal.
"Good morning, Karen," Daddy and Elizabeth replied.
"'Morning," yawned David Michael. Andrew had fallen asleep with his head in his hands and Emily Michelle was busy pulling her long black hair into a messy bun. All of my siblings hate to wake up early but it's Daddy and Elizabeth's rule. When my stepsister Kristy still lived with us she and I were the only ones who actually liked getting up early. But Kristy went off to college in California and decided to stay there after she graduated. What is with people moving to California? Anyway, my stepbrothers Sam and Charlie moved to New York and every now and then would come over with their kids and have breakfast with us. Funny because they hated it when they lived here but now that there gone I guess they miss the Sunday breakfast tradition.
"Pancakes, Karen?" asked Elizabeth as she brought over plates for my siblings.
"No thank you, just scrambled eggs for me, please." I replied. I had gained five pounds during our France trip and was determined to lose them.
"It's your last day of vacation, kids. What are you all planning on doing today?" Elizabeth asked, bringing Daddy his plate.
"I don't know," replied David Michael.
"Play Call of Duty," answered Andrew, snapping to attention. "Wanna play, David Michael?"
"I guess," David Michael responded.
"I'm going to swim at the Kormans. They're having a barbeque today." Said Emily Michelle.
"Wait, they are? Melody didn't invite me." I pouted.
"Maybe that's because you're not very nice to Melody." Emily Michelle said snottily.
"I am, too. I always try to help her fit in. It's not my fault that everybody thinks she weird." I protested. Emily Michelle rolled her eyes.
"That sounds nice," Elizabeth said absently, picking at her pancakes. "And what about school tomorrow? Everybody have everything they need?"
"Well, I need a new calc-" began Emily Michelle.
"I need to get my car detailed before tomorrow. Daddy?" I interrupted. Daddy looked up.
"Sure honey. Just charge it." Daddy replied. Emily Michelle scowled.
"Thanks Daddy."
"What about my calculator?" Whined Emily Michelle.
"Well, I can take you, sweetheart" Elizabeth smiled at Emily, who rolled her eyes. "David Michael, how is your car running? Do you need to take it in, too?" David Michael was busy shoveling pancakes in his mouth.
"Idofinso," he grunted.
"You're taking me to school tomorrow, right?" Andrew asked him. David Michael swallowed.
"Yeah, sure," he told Andrew.
"And I'm going with you, right Karen?" Emily Michelle asked me.
"Um, no…I'm picking up Nancy tomorrow. Duh."
"But it's my first day! I don't want to take the bus." Emily complained.
"Too bad. My car's full. Sorry, Em."
"Ugh!" Emily Michelle huffed.
"We can take you," Andrew offered, "Right David Michael?"
"I guess," David Michael sighed.
We all finished our meal in silence. Emily Michelle was giving me the evil eye when she got up to put her plate in the sink. She stormed off to her room. David Michael got up to put his plate away and was followed by Andrew who was bugging him about some video game. Elizabeth and Watson left their plates on the table, grabbed their keys and headed to the office. I felt a little bit bad about being mean to my sister, but I mean, really. It was going to be the first day of Senior Year and she expected me to cart her around? Not gonna happen. I had a brand new car and even though I wasn't technically supposed to drive with my friends in the car since it hadn't quite been six months since I got my license but really, my parents didn't seem to care and we certainly had enough money for any fines if I got pulled over. I thought about how jealous the kids at school were going to be when they saw my black Audi R8 pulling up in the parking lot. I ran upstairs, grabbed my keys and headed out the door. As I drove to the car detailing place I let my mind wander about the upcoming year.
I had goals for this year, of course. Not academic goals or making new friends goals. As a popular straight "A" student and star softball player, my goals were more along the lines of having the best year ever. I was determined to make MVP and prom queen. But I'd have to beat out my archenemy, Pamela Harding. I've hated that girl ever since the second grade. Pamela is a bitch. She is so self righteous and smug, even more so since she and Chris Lamar started dating at the beginning of last year. Chris is the best basketball player at our private school, Stoneybrook Day. He has beautiful coffee colored skin, green eyes and the softest full lips. His only flaw is that he chose Pamela to be his girlfriend instead of me. The only guy at school who is interested in me is creepy Bobby Gianelli who once tried to get me to play "doctor" with him. Ew. These days Bobby weighs about 300 pounds in muscle and thinks he is a cast member on Jersey Shore. So this year I wanted a boyfriend. Even my shy best friend Nancy had a boyfriend, Hank Reubens. Hank is kind of a douchebag but he's good to Nancy. I'll admit, I've been jealous. I'm usually the one who gets everything first and now I'm the only one who's never had a boyfriend. I've never even had my first kiss.
I felt a little down and as the detailers worked on my car, I realized that I needed a great new outfit. I felt a little better. Nothing makes me happier than shopping.