Miss Boss (Miss Series Book 1)

Chapter 14:

I had found the house of my dreams a few hours ago. It was only yesterday that I had decided about moving out. In the meantime, I had packed up my room. It took me ages. I had stayed up all of last night packing all my clothes and shoes into the boxes. I even packed my mother's selection of the clothes that she bought me on the dreadful day with all her snobbish friends.

I loaded all the boxes into my car and I had stayed at a hotel. In the meantime, my car was still full of boxes, and in the hotel, I looked at an estate website. I finally found an amazing house. The next day, today, I went to look at it and I put in an offer. The owners accepted it even in the short space of time that I had put the offer in, yes my offer was quite generous, and I am basically sitting at my new home, shopping for furniture. I found a gorgeous double bed and lounge suite, and also the people who previously lived in the house had left a bit of furniture, like a dinning room table and maybe a couch or two.

I started packing all my stuff into my bedroom. I had a huge walk in closet it, and the first thing I put there was my special box full of my racing uniform. I actually unpacked it for once, and I could admire them whenever I walked into my closet. I smiled when I sat the helmet down on a shelf. It looked good there.

I haven't seen my parents since that huge fight, and so they are probably both fuming. They might be a little worried, but not so much. My mom is probably furious. Ha. That would show them. I am ready to be a responsible twenty two year old. I really want to see my mom's reaction when she sees my empty room. There were about eight big boxes full of stuff. The only thing I left was a note.

Dear mom and dad,

I have decided to move out and be out of your hair. I think that this time away will 'be good for us'.

I am tired of being at the back end of all the rotten comments and high expectations. I am also tired of being on 24 hour surveillance and so I have decided to invest in some privacy.

Thanks for all that you have done for me. The house, the food, the schooling, everything. I love you both very much, but I need a little space. Please respect that. I love you both but I am still angry and hurt and upset and I need a little time.

Love Annabelle.

Ps, don't come looking for me. I will come to see you when I'm ready.

That was letter I wrote. They were going to freak, but at the moment I didn't care.

Anyway, I picked up the car keys and headed towards the track we have been raving at for the past week. I have gotten used to it a bit more than before, which is good.

I arrived there in my uniform and I plopped the helmet on my head as I got out the car.

The same procedure happened. The crew comes into the parking lot. They drive the truck but his special garage place. They unload the car and lush it onto the track. I get in the car and drive.

So I climbed into the car and I started the normal laps. Turn here, watch the sharp corners, floor it there, break a little here, speed up a little there. Riding by myself is a little irritating. My brother is overseas at the moment on a 'business trip' and its just me on the track. Me and my 'manager'. Who I only, find out I had a week ago. When I say that this manager is ten times worse than my mother, I am not lying. He takes my lap times and is always going on about how I need to improve and he never says well done or encourages me. He's really boring. He then proceeds to give me a long lecture on how the competition is coming up na do how my times should be much less or at least halved.

To make matters worse, on my fifth lap, I almost crashed, and as a result, I stopped the car because I suffered from an it of whiplash because I literally hit the brake too fast. I drove the car to the finish and switched it off.

"What the hell happened there?" my manager said. "That was ten times worse than your last one. How are you ever going to be ready for the grand prix? Again!" he shouted.

I gribbed the steering wheel. I started the engine again. It purred to life and I did the laps again. I had done fifteen laps and then I stopped the car again.

"No no no!" my manager shouted again. "Those were even worse! Again!" he shouted.

"No." I said.

"What?" he asked.

"No. I am so tired. What the flip are you even here for? Ever since you have started helping me, my times are worse, my turns are slower, and driving seems more like a chore than a hobbie. I'm done." I said. I was fuming.

"How dare you!" he shouted at me. Aparently I wasn't the only one fuming.

"Do you think that its just a coincidence that everything is worse?" I shouted.

"Fine. Whatever. Fire me. I hope that you do very badly and when you do, don't come crying back to me!" he said and walked off the track fuming.

I wanted to scream. I hopped out the car and I watched the crew lead it away. When they were done, I left in my Audi.

I drove to the nearest gym and quickly changed I my car into the gym clothes I had packed in my car. I tied my hair into my hair into a messy bun and I had a turquoise sports bra on and black and turquoise running pants and turquoise nikes.

I walked inside and I went into the punching bag section. Then I started to punch the freakin thing.