"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent," Eleanor Roosevelt

Gwen's POV

It took us about fifteen minutes to get from my house to Ursula's house in Melrose Hill. She mostly just listened to music that would bust out non rebel peoples ear drums and pounded on her steering wheel the whole way there.

So obviously car rides are not for talking when you're a rebel and there's music to be listening to.

Which is good because I don't normally talk to other people in the car, unless Aly and I are having discussions. Or arguments about where pink lemonade comes from.

I've never seen a pink lemon.

It was also good because I got some time to think to myself. About shopping, or rather shoplifting, and the cute shirts I wanted to buy while I was there.

Ursula just gave me looks in the store and pointed out things that I should want.

So maybe there's a price to pay during this whole rebellious thing. I've never been one to not fully be myself...

Whatever. What's done is done. We stole some shit and got out of there without Aly totally murdering Ursula, or vice versa.

Speaking of shoplifting, I mean, it's not that it felt good or anything, it just felt different. We didn't get caught, so I guess that's okay. Even though I would have loved to get caught and seen the look on my parents face.

Muaha.

Ursula fumbled around for her key in her bag and finally pulled it out to unlock the door. "Well, here ya' are."

First off, her house isn't small, but it isn't as big as mine. Not saying that my house is an Edison mansion or anything, but you don't really find houses near Hollywood Hills that are average sized.

Secondly, the interior of the house wasn't nearly as classic looking as our house, but still managed to look decent.

I smiled, "Your house is nice," trying to be nice.

"Don't lie."

Oh. Well. I wasn't lying, but I'll laugh it off. Ursula doesn't normally like when I backtalk.

Ursula threw her bag on a little table in the small foyer and I noticed a family looking picture above it. I said nothing, though.

I don't want to ask too many questions at first, because she might kick me out for being annoying or something.

Gwen doesn't like to be kicked out of others houses.

Although...I would like to know what her family is like, you know, to make her be bad ass all the time. Maybe they're completely like mine. Or maybe they're completely different.

I may be a transitioning bad ass, but I'm still nosy.

Urs led me to her living room and motioned to the couch, "I'm gonna go grab a beer. You want one?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

I hesitated. I don't think I've ever had like, beer. I've had much stronger alcohol, so a beer should be nothing compared to a pink squirrel. I nodded, "Yeah. Thanks."

She turned on a heel and walked out. Now I shall survey the living room.

There's the leather couch I'm sitting on now, two leather reclining chairs in the corner on the east wall under a big bay window, and a TV on the wall adjacent to the entrance of said room.

On both sides of the couch there are light stained wooden tables. One of them had a picture frame with a picture in it similar to the one in the foyer.

There was an older woman, two brunettes, a girl who looked a little older than Kellan, a boy who looked about twenty or so, and Ursula. That must be her mother, sister and brother, obviously.

Where's her Dad, then?

I shrugged it off and looked at the frames on the wall above the TV. There were several certificates of achievement, including a med school acceptance letter, a UCLA graduation certificate and several music awards.

Huh. It almost reminds me of Beck's acting awards, Aly's dance trophies and my art awards and trophy.

But, one of those frames must belong to Ursula, right?

"Gwen? Goddamnit, what have I said about spacing out?" Snap. Snap. Snap.

Oh hey, Urs, snapping your fingers in front of my face.

I felt my face grow hot and I blinked a few times. "Sorry," I took the open beer out of her hand and grinned sheepishly. "I was just looking-"

"At those? Don't worry. Everyone does." Her tone was angry and I felt like I'd done something wrong.

I swirled the yellow liquid in the bottle and put the top to my lips. Taking a swig, I made a face that I hoped my mentor didn't see.

This. Is. Disgusting.

It tastes like sweat, sausage and olives. Those are three things that aren't welcome in drinking form. They also aren't permitted to enter Gwendolyn's mouth and hit her taste buds

all at the same time.

Bleh.

The next few moment were somewhat uncomfortable, as Ursula wasn't saying anything, but just blankly staring at the frames above the TV with a scowl.

I waved my hand in front of her face. "Stop, Gwen." She slapped it away.

"Sorry," I apologized again. "But- are you okay? I mean,-"

Ursula put her hands up to stop me. "It's not your fault. It's theirs." She picked up the frame with the family photo on it. "This is my brother and sister." Urs pointed to the boy, "That's Nikolas." To the girl, "and that's Hannelore." The disgust dripping from her voice as she uttered their names was almost as awful as this beer.

She tossed the frame onto the coffee table in front of us and put her feet on top of it, shuffling down further into the couch. "They're just so freaking perfect. I hate it."

I wanted to say something. Anything. But I just thought it would be better for it to explain it to me at her own pace.

"You'd think as the youngest I got loads of attention growing up, right? Well. You're dead wrong. It's their fault, too. Like I said. It was always Hannelore this and Niko that." She groaned.

I took another swig, gross, and put the bottle on the table. "But, I don't understand. Why did they get so much attention?"

Ursula sighed, "Because. Lore is a musical prodigy or some shit. Music is her thing. She started playing piano when she was three without even knowing what she was doing. Everyone just freaking loved her. Ugh, and don't even get me started on my brother." She threw her head up against the back of the couch. "He was like, the most popular kid in his grade. He was captain of the football team and everyone wanted to be his best friend. Niko graduated from UCLA two years early, because of course not only was he popular but smart. Now he's in med school. Far away from me."

"So those awards and stuff?"

"All them. None of me. I, uh, don't really have a thing, if you haven't noticed. Unless there's an award for stealing shit, I'm pretty much normal." Ursula paused to take a large gulp of alcohol. For the first time, I think I'm seeing a much more vulnerable side of her. "You know...no matter how much I try, they'll always be better than me and my mom will always like them better."

A large knot formed in my stomach.

Because that's how I feel sometimes. You know, compared to Aly and Beck. I mean, they're both so popular. Aly's gorgeous and gets hit on constantly and has big boobs and is a talented dancer.

Beck is one of the best actors in Hollywood Arts and is the guy every girl wants.

Their lives are pretty much set for them.

I've got talent, too. Don't get me wrong. I know I'm a really good artist. It's just...is it bad that sometimes I think that's not enough? I'm not exactly popular and my boobs are really

tiny.

"I wish they'd both drop dead."

Okay. So I don't exactly feel that way about my siblings.

/ /

So, Ursula's house was fun.

We drank beer and I helped her get the security tags off all the stolen merchandise she, well, stole.

But...she got a text and groaned about how her mom was coming home. So in conclusion I had to leave.

She said it was because she didn't feel like getting yelled at for giving beer to other underage children.

You know, that's not why I think she did it.

Not to scorn my mentor or anything...but I think any chance she gets to have her mom alone with her is really important.

Not that I would know anything about that at this moment in time, seeing how my mom is a pregnant monster with a little baby monster inside her.

So here I am walking into my house awaiting to be thwarted by my parents yells of 'oh you're still dressed like that'. But there weren't any.

They weren't home when I wanted them to be again. Awesome.

The less I see of them the better. Well, actually the more I see of them in my bad ass attire is good. Whateveskies.

I threw my bag- wait. I didn't bring a bag with me, because I bought one at the mall and put the stolen-

Oh. Sugar. Honey. Iced. Tea. I mean, oh shit.

One of them had to have found it and is totally waiting for the right moment to pounce on me and scream at me. "Beck? Aly?"

I'll get to them before they can get to me. "Gwen?"

That would be Beck. I followed the sound of his voice to the living room and crossed my arms. "Where's my bag?"

Beck flicked through the channels, not glancing at me. Wow someone's not good enough to look me in the eye whilst talking to me. "Oh, Als said she put it in your room."

Aly put it in my room? That means she knows. But apparently Beck doesn't. "Oh. Where is she?"

"Hanging out with Tori."

What.

The silence finally made Beck look up at my shocked face. Allison does not just hang out with Tori willy nilly.

He nodded as if he was confirming what he just said, "She said something about how Tori was complaining on the Slap that Trina wasn't helping clean the house..." Beck shrugged.

Cleaning? What is her deal with the cleanliness act? Aly has been scrubbing every inch of this house ever since we found out my mom was preggo. "Oh."

Beck resituated himself in an upright position and sighed. "Gwen, when are you gonna, you know, start acting normal again?"

Ugh. This again? "Look. Beck. I don't care if no one else in this house approves of this look. I'm not looking for anyone's approval."

"Really? 'Cause it kinda seems like you're looking for it. Just not the good kind."

"Beck. Stop being so philosophical." I crossed my arms and gave him a dirty look. "You and Aly are just jealous that I found someone else to be a decent older sibling!" I yelled, making a reference to Ursula.

My brother stood up and raised his eyebrow, "What are you talking about? Aly and I are pretty good older siblings."

I shook my head, "No! I've finally found someone who understands what it's like to be...average." I whispered the final word.

"What are you talking about?"

But I didn't answer. Because I couldn't.

I can't explain to people how I feel. But like I said, sometimes I just feel so inferior to Beck and Aly.

I have to work so hard on my artwork for it to be perfect enough for submission. Beck just acts perfectly. Aly just dances perfectly.

I'll always have to work for what I want. Everything they want is going to come to them.

As I was just about to walk up the oak stairs to lock myself in my room and draw out my feelings, a very Aladdin hand grabbed my arm, "Gwen, wait,"

"What!" I snapped.

"David called."