"If obsession were a person, it'd be you."
A street racer by evening, and a high-school student by day, 17 year-old Ola Sainz is forced to move to Los Angeles with her mother, where she crosses path with a typical California teenage boy.
Theo Lauder...
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Hearing Grandma's voice from the bottom of the stairs calling me to dinner, I get out of my bed and grab a brown hoodie that covers my braless tank top underneath.
I had just arrived from school a few hours ago and before I was interrupted, I was lazily laying on my bed scrolling through social media and looking through the profile of my new friends I met in class.
Honestly, I had no problem getting along with my classmates as they seemed approachable and welcoming.
So far, people have been very friendly toward me. It's not like what I saw in the movies where the new girls gets bullied by the rich, popular kids. The people in Whitehaven didn't care about those trivial things.
I close the door to my bedroom, pull down my pajama shorts, and skip down the stairs with my hair still a little moist from my shower earlier. Call me dirty, but instead of getting up early in the morning, I preferred to take a shower the night before. Having wavy hair also meant spending more time getting it to look cute and healthy. I must prepare my hair the night before because, aside from my skincare routine, it takes up most of my time. I could only imagine how much difficult it is for other girls to tame their hair.
When I reach the dining room, Mom, Grandma and Ricardo are already seated at the long table as they chatted shortly. It's hard not to notice Ricardo when his hat takes up all of my attention.
My lips stretched in a wide grin as I approached the chair next to Mom, the one across from Grandma. All the other seats were empty and I thought about why the table was so huge when there were only two of them before Mom and I arrived here.
The housemaids haven't ever joined us for dinner since we've been here, I noted.
I wonder if they have their own quarters where they gathered and had all to themselves. By the scale of this home, though, it wouldn't shock me.
"Hi, Dear. We were just talking about you," Grandma greeted me as soon as my ass touched the frigid chair.
Seeing that they already had food on their plates, I dumped rice and beans on mine and a bowl of Salmorejo soup, which I believed Grandma had made for the evening.
"What were you guys talking about me?"
The first to reply is Ricardo. He brought a spoon to feed Grandma and remarked, "I was just telling them how enthusiastic you were about your first day of school." Mom quickly stopped me from laughing at the scene in front of me by nipping my bare foot under the table.
