BROOKMONT, MARYLAND
THE GREGORY ESTATE
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 2
5:30 PM
"Eh ma gawd!" Kristen exclaimed as the Mercedes pulled up at a pair of elegant white gates. "Mom, is this really our new house?" she asked enthusiastically.
"No," replied her mother, "it's our new mansion!" She grinned.
Kristen shoved open the door of the car and sprinted outside. There were two black marble fountains resting on a freshly cut front lawn that smelled of spring, even though it was late summer. A gravel path led from the driveway up to the front door.
The building was made entirely of granite and wood, lending it an ultra-modern feel with a touch of sophistication. There were large, clear glass windows, and above the door, visible even from the road, was a gold G. G for Gregory. This place was really theirs.
The blonde's face lit up in excitement. She had to see the rest of the mansion. Leaving her suitcases in the moving van, she raced up to the door, found it unlocked, and pushed it open.
"Your room is upstairs, second on the right!" Marsha yelled.
"Eh ma gawd! This is amazing!" Kristen shrieked. Her walls were painted sea-foam green, so the room had a cool but welcoming air. The carpet was cream-hued, and perfectly matched her bedspread. The pillows were coordinated with the walls. The furniture was white and light wood. Directly in front of her was a 52-inch flat-screen Plasma TV. To the left was a walk-in closet and her own bathroom. To the right, two enormous windows opened onto the front of the property, which was even more pristine than she had first thought.
This was heaven.
"Kristen," came a voice from right next to her ear.
With a gasp, she tumbled off her bed before realizing there was an intercom installed there. "Mom?"
"Come downstairs please!"
Kristen untangled herself from her oh-so-comfortable blankets and hurried down the stairs. When she entered the living room, she found her mother sitting with another woman, who had shoulder-length red-auburn locks and dark green eyes. She was wearing a tan business skirt-suit and was obviously a professional.
Next to her, clicking through her phone, was a girl about Kristen's age, who she figured was the woman's daughter. She had golden-blonde hair and chocolate-brown eyes, which were analyzing Kristen's outfit (a white cropped jersey top tucked into a light blue pleated skater skirt by Louis Vuitton, paired with thick black Steve Madden stilettos and a matching Michael Kors bag).
"Kristen, yes? I'm Marilyn, your new neighbor!" cooed the lady. She had a touch of an accent (French, Kristen realized with a smile) and a cozy way of speaking.
"Yes, I'm Kristen," she replied nervously, shaking the French woman's hand, which had square, crimson-tipped nails.
She felt so new to this world of wealth, so confused as to what etiquette she should be following.
"Kristen?" Marsha suggested. "Why don't you and Marilyn's daughter go upstairs to your room and get acquainted." It wasn't a request.
"This is nice," the girl complimented lightly as she sat down on Kristen's window seat. Even she had a natural way of talking that made it obvious she'd had money since birth.
"Thanks," Kristen said, unsure of what to do.
"Is this your clique?" the girl asked. "You are in a clique, right?"
Kristen tensed. "How do you-"
"Um, there's a picture on your dresser with you and four other girls that says 'The Pretty Committee' on the bottom," explained the girl, looking as though she were wondering if Kristen was a little crazy.
"Oh," Kristen whispered quietly.
"Hey, are you alright? I didn't mean to upset you or anything." She touched Kristen's shoulder.
"It isn't...it's not you. When I told them I was moving, they kicked me out."
"Harsh." The girl grimaced. "I have a few friends of my own, you know. You can come hang out with us one day."
"Seriously?" Kristen asked, more cheerfully.
"Sure. And you could even sit with us during school or something if you want." She smiled a little.
"Totally!" Kristen agreed. Massie was so wrong. She'd been at her new house for less than an hour and she already was part of a clique.
"Great!" The girl took one last look at Kristen's outfit and departed.
"Wait; I didn't catch your name."
She turned around, her golden-blonde tresses swinging against her cheek. Her eyes sparkled even more than Alicia's. "Kasey. Kasey Marin." And with that, she sashayed down the stairs, leaving Kristen standing there alone.