Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Oh no, naughty,” I whisper.
She barks and then runs. We take chase, running after her as she sprints down the stairs.
“Oh my God, somebody get her,” Willow cries.
I’m terrified she is going to swallow the sponge. “Tillie,” I call as I run down the stairs. “Come back here.”
Maverick the cat thinks that this looks like a good game and he starts pulling himself upside down along the leather sofa by the claws so that Tillie doesn’t get all the attention.
“Stop that, Maverick,” I cry as we run past. “These baby animals are very naughty today.”
“Sammy’s going to be late for school at this rate,” Willow cries.
We corner Tillie in the kitchen and she goes feral, bending her back legs as she straightens her front legs. She’s having so much fun.
Woof, woof.
I look around at the three of us in our pyjamas, chasing a tiny little dog as she completely destroys the house, and I get the giggles. “Come here, you naughty girl.” I hold my hands out wide to try and entice her.
She begins to chew the sponge in her mouth and we all scream, “Nooooo!”
Willow dives on her, and I pry her tiny mouth apart and take the mangled makeup sponge from her grip.
She latches onto Sammy’s finger and bites down hard. “Ahhh!” he yells.
“No,” I snap. “No biting, naughty!”
Willow puts Tillie back down on the floor, and the pup sprints back upstairs on a mission to wreck something else.
“Oh my God,” Willow cries as she runs after her.
Sammy rolls his eyes and takes chase. I laugh and turn around to see Maverick climbing the curtains by his claws. He’s looking at me upside down. “Get down, Maverick, you naughty cat.” I rub my hands through my hair.
These pets are completely out of control.
“What about this shirt?” I ask Will.
We’ve had our nails done and now we’re perusing the shops with Daddy Warbucks’ gold credit card. This is essential spending—way more important than bondage lingerie, that’s for sure.
Will looks at the shirt and frowns. “It’s okay, I guess.”
“What style do you like?” I think for a moment. “You’re at that age where you are transforming from a duckling into a beautiful swan.”
She rolls her eyes at my dramatics and then twists her lips together. "Well, I've always liked grunge clothing." I nod as I listen.
“But, I was thinking of maybe trying to get something a bit…” Her voice trails off.
“A bit what?” I ask as I keep looking around the shelves.
“I don’t know. Something a bit more...” she raises her eyebrows, “attractive?”
I smile, knowing she does like that boy from the golf club after all. “That’s an excellent idea.” I link my arm through hers. “Let’s get you a whole new look.”
Two hours later, we have six bags in our hands, filled with some of the most beautiful clothes you could imagine, as well four pairs of shoes. I have totally blown out his credit card. But honestly, who cares? It’s not like he can’t afford it.
We are walking down the street, on the way to meet Emerson, eating chocolate waffle ice-cream cones. “Tell me about school,” I say as I lick my chocolate heaven.
She shakes her head. “Nothing to tell.”
“Why do you think those girls pick on you?” I lick my ice cream as I pretend to be blasé about the answer.
She frowns. “I’m just different.”
“How so?” I watch her. I’ve spent the whole day preparing her to have this conversation with me, and if it takes all of Julian’s money to get more from her then so be it.
“I don’t have a mother.” She shrugs as she looks to the ground. “I don’t like what they like.”
I watch her. “Like what?”
“The music, the stupid boys. Everything. I have nothing in common with any of them.”
“But that’s okay, right?” I frown. “Does it bother you that you have nothing in common with them?”
“It used to.”
“But not anymore?” “I’m used to it now, I guess.”
I link my arm through hers as we walk. “You know it’s okay be different, Will. I’m different, and not everyone likes me.”
“Everyone likes you, Brell.” She tuts.
“No, they don’t. Do you know how many times I get called a bimbo because I chose to be outgoing and happy? People assume I’m dumb because I laugh a lot.” I shrug. “Think about it… both you and your dad thought I was a bimbo at the very beginning.”
She frowns as she watches me, my words falling into place.
“I choose to be how I want to be.” I bump my shoulder with hers. “I don’t care what people think. You need to choose how you want to be and forget what everyone else says or thinks about it.”
She listens intently.
“Because the people who matter will love you however you are.” “What about Dad?” she asks. “Will he?”
“Your father loves you so much. He just wants you to be happy, Will. He doesn’t always say what he feels, I know, but it’s the truth, and deep down you know it.”