Not All Blondes Are Dumb [EDITING]

Chapter 9: It's Pronounced God-dess, Not Princess

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I look at the ceiling, contemplating where my life went wrong.

I live for the drama life. It makes everything ten times more fun and I will never deny that. I can see why there are so many dedicated actresses and actors.

Anyways, after Trevor left yesterday, I only had a few things to do after that since he helped me with many things (like organizing my room). Apparently, news got out that I was expelled and moving away to Ohio. I honestly don't know how they found out about the Ohio part and I'm trying very hard not to get creeped out.

I don't flinch or even move at the sound of my bedroom's door opening and closing. Nor do I move away when my bed dips slightly.

A few moments of silent tension between the person and I. I don't glance to my right to see who it is that sat beside me. It could be a serial killer for all I would've cared.

"I'm sorry," I hear my dad's voice say.

I laugh slightly at this, rolling over to cover my face with my pillow.

"I'm going to Ohio not my funeral, it's like everyone is just saying byes and sorry's to me like as if they need to, did you know that some people are actually throwing me a goodbye party?" I rant, my voice coming out muffled, "I feel flattered, really... But I think this is just too much."

And I think it is. Apparently, I'm that popular. It's not that I hate it, I just don't really get why they are going too overboard with this. I'm a normal girl who pranks people not a celebrity for crying out loud. Besides, I'm leaving in about a few minutes so I won't be at my own goodbye party, such a waste.

I hear my dad exhale loudly as he lays beside me. "You don't like the attention then?"

"I never said that," I respond, removing the pillow from my face before sitting up.

It's not that I hate my dad. He's actually the laid-back parent in this family while my mom is the more strict one. How mom was a cheerleader in her old school is still a mystery to me, I mean I guess I can imagine my dad as the football star quarterback. I inwardly scoff at this. Typical.

I glance over at my dad only to see him sit up as well.

"Jordan, the car is here, honey!" My mom's voice rings out from downstairs.

Great.

"Coming!" I exclaim, loud enough so that it can reach her ears. I grab my pillow again, hugging it to my chest.

I'm not ready to leave.

"I'm sorry, princess," my dad says as I he gets off the bed to stand in front of me. He gently grabs my head before softly kissing my forehead.

He sighs tiredly when I don't give him a response. He leans down slightly before grabbing my chin. "Listen to me, I know I should be saying that it'll be great and you'll make new friends and all that jazz."

I stay quiet, waiting for him to continue as I stare at the person who I inherited my eyes from.

"...but I can't find myself to agree with your mom," he chuckles, "At least, not on the reasons she's given you but I really doubt that you'd want to go to any uptight snobby school around here. Especially because of those pranks that you've done on those poor souls every year," he says, a hint of amusement seeping into his voice.