My name is Grace Marie Blanchard.
I could say everything about my life is perfect. But then I would be lying.
18 years and three months ago I was born in the suburb of Winnetka in the state of Illinois. Big house, large yard, plenty of rooms we never really used. Yes. I'm that rich kid everybody envies. Always in the centre of attention. Spoiled with toys and gadgets. My closet always filled with the newest clothing collections freshly flown in from Paris. Dropped off at school in a new car every week. Oh and guys? Guys just want me. They just do. It's always been this way. I'd say I don't know why but then again, I would be lying. Something I deeply detest; lying.
No, I am fully aware why guys want me. But the reason purely sickens me. I just don't get it. What's the point of being in a relationship when it's just for a good image? My mom has this hobby where she likes to find me boyfriends. Of course all of the boys she has picked out for me are even richer than we are and yes of course the boys look like Calvin Klein models with their sparkly eyes, pearly whites, heavenly jawlines and toned bodies dressed in expensive trousers, shirts and tuxedos but somehow I just long for more than a guy with a dreamy smile.
You see, some call me unrealistic and according to our maid I'm a dreamer. But I just know love is so much more than superficiality and financial security. It has to be! If it's not then I don't think I even want to know or feel what love is.
Sighing at the time I opened my locker. 2PM. Another four hours until the meaningless feast diner my mother had plannedand invited tons of people I barely know to. But great, four hours till then so enough time to think of an excuse why to not accept David's engagement ring. Did I mention how tiring it is to be me? Everybody just always wants something from me. And everybody just always has these high expectations of me. All because my father makes a lot of money. It's so unfair. I really need to get out of this scene.
"Grace!" I hear my friend Olivia call my name as she makes her way over to me on her new 7 inch Chanel heels. I giggle at the sight of her trying to look as attractive as possible. Don't get me wrong here, Olivia was absolutely stunning. Her perfectly slim stature, blue eyes and long blonde hair had all boys drooling. But her walk-on-heels-technique wasn't the most stable one out there. She needs to practice, that's all. A few whistles fly across the hallway as she makes her way down to me looking as confident as ever.
"So?" She smiles widely at me leaving me a little puzzled with her approach. "How was your weekend?" Then it hit me. I had told her I couldn't go to the fashion weekend in NYC with her because I had made plans with my boyfriend Nathaniel this past weekend, which was a complete lie since Nate was visiting his father's beach house in Miami last weekend. "We had fun." I replied faking a soft smile. "And apparently you did too?" I said hoping to change the topic while eying her brand new heels. "Hell yes!" She began rattling about how amazing the fashion show and New York were and what glamorous trends I have missed out on but I didn't really listen anything she was saying. My mind was completely somewhere else. To be honest, I really didn't do anything this weekend. I just needed some time to myself so I spent two days baking cakes and pastries in our grande kitchen. Cooking had always been one of my biggest hobbies. It's been my therapy ever since I was a little girl. It just gives me time to think and sort things out. And I had a lot to think about, especially since Nate had told me he was going to ask my father's permission to marry me soon. And a part of me was telling me it was going to be tonight during my mother's feast.