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Truman lounged impishly in her plush first class seat. She wrapped herself snuggly in the cashmere blanket she'd brought. She cracked herknuckles and rested them daintily in her lap, just like her mother had taught her since she could remember.
Now dear, always cross your legs and keep your hands settled. A good family like ours can't set our elbows on our redwood table.
She cringed dramatically. Just the high pitched chirp of her mother'sannoying, preppy; Upper East Side Manhattan voice set her thoughts straight that she was doing the exact right thing.
What was she doing exactly? She'd just boarded a flight from La Guardia to LAX. She'd done what every single old money rich kid in her graduating class hadn't managed to do, other that get accepted to every single Ivy—break away from her parents expectations and take time off of their clear cut Ivy League lives and do what they wanted to do. Don't get her wrong she was going to college; regardless. Just maybe in the near future.
She looked at herself in the shimmering titanium sheet on the back of the passenger in front of hers chair. Her shaggy dirty blond belly button length hair, distressed straight leg jeans, simple Chanel ballet flats, innocent white peasant blouse, and perfect preppy diamond stud earrings.
She even looked preppy. She groaned deeply, and ignored the pointed look the flight attendant gave her.
Note to self: When I get to my dad's house, I go shopping. Must.
Ah, her father. The ever prestigious, ever classy Ryland Maximilian. He was the epitome of what she wanted to be.
He'd even gone so far to make a name by divorcing her mother. Of course it was mutual, seeing as how her mother was a bit fed up with their marriage to. It barely made Truman flinch when it'd been announced to her in her freshman year at Billingsley Rutherford Macpherson High School.
And to the last topic of her misery, her stupid, annoying high school. Billingsley was nationally ranked, and a private school. They were paid to produce the most, perfect, Ivy – League ready children. And that they did. There wasn't one child in her graduating class that hadn't been accepted to at least four of the schools in America's top 20.
Not to mention the kids at her school made her furious. Basically, the more generations your family's wealth backtracked, the more popular you were. This made every single person at her school pretentious. She shoved it in their faces when she graduated at the top of her class.
But there was one, bold boy, named Carter Bradford. He was the definition of what she was trying to get away from. He played racquetball since he could walk, and was nationally ranked, had been taking SAT prep classes since 5th grade, every year his family had been escaping to their Cape Cod private beach house, and always wore his sweaters tied around his shoulders. Personally, Truman found it quite gay. But, evidently, every single other girl in her school thought it was hot. Even her own mother convinced her day in and day out that Carter was her perfect match. Truman thought differently. Her mother was impossible.
She'd called Carter's mother and told her that Truman was be happy to be escorted to the UEA Debutante Ball.
After a long yelling and screaming match, Truman was clad in a Cinderella-esque dress, and had Carter's racquetball toned hands snaked across her waist.
So Truman did what she does best. Get revenge.
She belched, she burped, she pulled out wedgies, talked about genital herpes, and made a public statement about how her mother talks in her sleep. All at the dinner table.
Let's just say, her mother never set her up with anyone ever again.
Truman's life had always been planned and clear cut. All her life she'd heard 'When you go to Yale' 'When you graduate at the top of your class'. It annoyed her immensely. Why should you let other people decide what you become? It simply made no sense.
The only thing Truman was looking forward to be seeing her father, a world-renounced art dealer and chef, and catching up after not seeing each other for four years.
She loved how Quasy-European and laid back her father was about her coming to live with him. That he didn't care that she'd gotten in to Yale, Harvard, Princeton, and Columbia. But the only thing he cared about was that he was seeing his little girl.
'We will be landing shortly in terminal 5 in LAX Airport. Please secure all carry-ons and seatbelts'
Truman felt free, like she could do anything now. She'd finally left it all behind.
Was it the fact she was finally on foreign soil? Or the fact that she was finally free to do whatever, whenever.
After landing, and being picked up by her father's driver. She looked out her window. She saw the ever so famous Hollywood sign in all it's glory, and Melrose, which truly did rival Truman's beloved Saks 5th Avenue.
Then, finally Truman saw paradise, her father's beautiful townhouse in Westwood. Albiet, it was nothing compared to her mother's in Manhattan, but still, it was something. Antique art pieces lay everywhere, and the lovely smell of baguettes covered in Brie cheese wafted in to the limousine. Her father was making her favorite appetizers. So far Cali was treating her nicely, fair weather, beaches, hot guys. The minute her private car was parked she launched out to hug her father.
"Dad I missed you so much!" She gushed over and over again. She could feel a tear slip out of her Kohl lined eyes. Or was it just her father's aftershave?
"Hey there Pumpkin" her father smiled back; as he hugged her she inhaled his after shave.
Ahh he still hasn't changed!
Truman had finally gotten around to going on her shopping spree. The problem is that she was really confused. She knew her favorite stores back in New York. Bergdorf's and Barneys. Where were they?
Truman knew she had to leave those behind too, so she walked into a brightly lit store that read 'Forever 21'. Damn it, this store is so main stream. She honestly hated this store because when she shopped here in 3rd grade 2 other girls had the same outfit. It made her so sad. So she vowed to never shop there again.
She was in the shoe section, contemplating some white flat boots when she felt someone tug her skirt.
She looked down to see a bright, brown-eyed, curly haired girl smiling up at her. The girl was no more than seven.
"You're pretty" she said brightly.
"Why thank you sweetheart" Truman awkwardly giggled out. Her creeped out expression clearly unknown to the little girl. "You want to help me shop?" I said sweetly. Hoping she'd yell 'STRANGER DANGER!' and run out of the store.
"Mhmm!" she said while jumping up and down.Damn.
"Well let's go Hun." I chirped. She had no clue she could be, nice to children. She'd never had any other siblings.
Speaking of which, after maybe 2 minutes of walking around Truman heard a somewhat deep voice say
"Goodness! Lynn where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you!"
Truman turned. A handsome curly haired boy, that looked just like Lynn was speaking. Before she knew it she was speaking to the boy.
"Sorry, she just came up to me and told me I was pretty and we just started shopping, I promise I'm not a kidnapper or whatever." Truman babbled endlessly.
"No worries, my mom just told me to watch her for the day, and I couldn't find her." He affirmed kindly.
"Oh, well I'm Truman, your little sister's really cute" Truman admitted softly. Why on Earth was I acting shy? She thought.
"I'm Nate, nice to meet you." he smiled. Ha, boys got a nice smile. And cute dimples, she was a sucker for dimples.
I brushed my shaggy blonde bangs out of my eyes, "So are you here for the summer, or do you live here?" Nate inquired; sweat glistening on his fore head.
She honestly had no clue how long she'd be here. "Uh, I live with my dad." Truman affirmed.
"Cool. Listen I've got to get Lynn back home, I'll see you around." He proposed.
Truman simply nodded her head.
She didn't know what it was about that boy, but she finally had her answer to why she'd came to this city.
Truman Octavia Maximilian came to Los Angeles, California to lose herself. To get caught up in the moment. To go so far, she'd never ever, not in a century find her way back to the light.
She dropped everything she'd planned on buying stepped out side, and smelled the West Coast air. It even smelled like a new beginning.
And she assured herself, that was exactly what she was going to do.
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