The Girl Who Cried Style

Chapter 2: Michael Kors shoes and Kate Spade bags

"Why on earth would you ever make a decision like that without my consent!?" My father spat on the phone as he drove us back home. It was almost 11'clock and my father was answering phone calls at this time. He was angry at whomever had dealt with a business meeting and did wrong. I sighed in discontent. Of all days we had to celebrate my entry to Princeton had also been the day I was accepted to my dream college. Repeat after me, Princeton was his idea, his dream and his happiness. Yet, even though it was my life I had no say in my career.

According to him I had to continue the business. But I didn't care about numbers and deals. I cared about bags, shoes and clothe. My heart ached to create them and live in the world of fashion. To be apart of a company that paid well their workers and didn't have sweatshops. I wanted to be a change in the industry. I died to be able to go to France and understand their language and make deals with undiscovered ateliers. Dreams were dreams still, and this one just couldn't come true.

It's not like I haven't tried convincing my father of this. I spoke to him about it, he laughed and that same weekend took me to a fashion show in Milan. As soon as our feet touched our house in New York, he said, "dream's over."

The car came to a stop and I realized I was home. I entered and walked up the stairs straight to my room. As I got ready for bed my father came to say goodnight. Still talking on the phone he gave me a kiss on my forehead and left the room without a word. I snuggled up with a pillow and let my constant thoughts shut down.

It was early in the morning when I heard the front door slam. Knowing how my father is, someone really messed up with whatever it was that my father had left in charge to that person. I sat up, staring at my closet I had the temptation to open it and keep rereading the letter. But what good would that do? I had to accept that my dreams would never come possible. My dreams were everything to me but so was my father, and letting him down wasn't an option.

It was currently the first week of June. School had been over about a week ago, and I had been trying to think over my plans for the summer. Nothing came to mind except spend time with Cristina... then I remembered. She would be gone for the entire summer, she was going to leave the next day after my birthday and that would be the last time I'd see her for a while. The thought occurred to me, my birthday was in a couple of days.

This year was the big 18, but truly I didn't want to do anything big. On the contrary I just wanted it to be my father and my grandparents to come home and have cupcakes. Yet my father was trying to do the the total opposite, we just had to host a party. Not as if I had even mentioned it to him, cause when it came to really getting what I wanted a had a secret weapon. Grandma.

Three long days at home full of doing nothing, my father decided to take me out. We went shopping for some clothes that he could wear for certain meetings. In the process of shopping, he tried to buy me things but I didn't want anything. He insisted on buying me at least something for my birthday but the only thing that I wanted from him was to accept my dreams and let me go to NYFC.

"Dad, I just want anything that comes from your heart." I uttered.

"And that's it?"

"Yes, I'd rather just go to the pier you and I alone and then meet grandma and grandpa at home. Open presents there then just eat red velvet cupcakes." I pouted and looked at him with puppy eyes.

"Penelope, we talked about this," then he kept talking about how important it is that we let people know about my life and a bunch of other shit. Accepting his response, I texted my grandmother with the words, "do your thing."

The next day I decided to reorganize my walk-in closet. Turning on my iHome, I connected my phone and played "Feel It Still" by Portugal. The Man. Knowing that I had to rearrange everything by color I played the song with excitement. Still in my stripped pj's I started swinging to the song, in the process of placing my shoes all in the same place. Then taking all my bags and arranging them by designer. My closet was full of clothes, all in different places some even on the floor. Still dancing to the beat, I put my clothe in order of color. With satisfaction my feet dragged me to my full mirror dancing and there I stared at myself. My blonde hair styled in a lose bun, I had no shoes. I laughed at myself. And there as I smiled and looked at myself I remembered the feeling of being like this, the feeling of not being lost.

Knowing what I had to do and feeling like I was important. Everything had come crashing down the day I got that acceptance letter. My father had planned my career and college life before I even knew how to speak. For years I knew what I had to do with my life even though I loved fashion. But never in my life would I have thought it would guide me to actually have the decision to let it be my life. That acceptance letter was something I thought I would never get. Not because of grades nor the experience but because it was one of the hardest schools to get into.

Princeton was hard to get into also, but even if I wasn't accepted all my father had to do was use his money. But it wasn't necessary. I was a great student, a cheerleader, and went to a good private school. Having the letter in my hands changed my feelings. My dreams could come true and I had something that others didn't... an opportunity. It frustrated me having to reject that letter, even though I hadn't the thought of it was killing me.

With one last look in the mirror, I turned around and left my closet.

Boredom was getting the best of me, and my thoughts on what's been going were driving me nuts. One thing I had promised myself this summer was to not waste it. Live it and learn from it, and the best thing I could learn from this summer was to cook. I had ordered cooking books with anticipation, and today was the day I would learn to do something. Opening the book I looked for the fastest recipe and started to cook some pasta. By the end of my experiment, my pj's were covered in spots of pasta sauce and cheese was everywhere because of the fact that I had popped open the powdered cheese and it didn't stay in it's place. At least the food wasn't bad.

Moving to the couch, I surfed the tv. "UGH!" I groaned as the majority of channels I could found were Project Runway, ANTM, Ru Paul's etc. Looking for movies I stumbled upon a romantic one. Then I remembered my "boyfriend." He had texted me hours ago but I had no intention on getting back to him. Troy wasn't a bad person, he was a player with no intention of settling down and was being obligated to date me. The worst part was that he was actually trying to get some with me. I knew his manners and ways, I was being apart of this for my father's sake. Troy was being apart of this to try to get laid and enjoy the "relationship." He acted like a perfect boyfriend yet he probably didn't even know my second name. Every time we sat down and had a conversation I would lose his attention.

I had tried to be friends with him but he was just simply unappealing to my personality. If the kid wouldn't be hooking up with random girls and at least letting me have a word when it came to having a conversation I would be nice. But he just blabbed on about his job and life. The idea of breaking up came to mind millions of times but every time I tried to speak to my father about it he would get angry. I understood having an image but sometimes he lost sense into certain things when it came to his business.

My thoughts where interrupted by the utterance of keys. I looked back to find my father looking stressed. Then his stressed face changed into an amused one when he saw me, then saw the mess. "You cooked!?" He asked excitedly. I nodded as he made his way to the kitchen, with confusion and distress he served himself some food. Looking at him wearily, he put his plate on the kitchen counter, smiled at me, gulped in nervousness, and shoved the fork full of pasta into his mouth. I kept staring at him waiting for a response. His face blank, with a paper towel he cleaned the edges of his mouth. "I'm ordering pizza." He said as he reached for his phone. Grunting in annoynce, I cleaned his plate.

"Ay nena, at least you tried." He laughed at me.

Dad ordered the pizza and sat down in the couch. Choosing football as tonight's entertainment, I sat on the corner of the couch and tried to find amusement with his favorite sport. Little by little I started falling asleep watching the very entertaining game. Until his words woke me up, "I'll pick you up at 6, we'll be at the pier by 7 tomorrow, you're grandparents will be here by the time we're finished eating." Squealing in excitement, I jumped towards my father and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Running up to my room I searched for the perfect birthday/family time outfit.