Rage

Chapter Two

Chase's departure was marked by my depression and refusal to leave my room.

When Jack visited, the Bitch attempted to coax me out of the lavish pit I'd locked myself into, faux worry in her tone, but I'd refused point blank. Later, I'd received a text from her saying that, if I ever pulled another stunt like that in front of Jack, I would be thrown out.

Finally, after three days of not moving, my stomach was in enough turmoil to tempt me out of my near catatonic state.

The house was, as expected, almost always empty. The Wicked Bitch was at work in Los Angeles, which was where she spent most of her time, tormenting models and designers alike. I was just glad that, as it was three hours away, I wouldn't see her unless it was a weekend.

The maids didn't exactly count as company; they didn't make any sort of conversation with me, even after my attempts at talking to them that had emerged from loneliness.

When the first weekend brought my mother back home, she didn't acknowledge me except to say that I could use any of her cars and her credit card as long as I stayed out of her sight.

Which was why I used it. I went crazy at one of the two local malls which, instead of just having stores like Hot Topic, Forever 21 or Urban Outfitters, was filled to the brim with stores like Michael Kors, Donna Karan and Ted Baker. Although the less expensive stores were there, they were practically empty all the time. I scoffed every time I saw that; only a suburb like this one could have that happen.

Chase and I lived in the perfect haven that was San Francisco. Sure, the cost of living was high, but we didn't need much. Chase worked, I was a normal high school student who had a job at a cafe and we shopped at inexpensive stores. We had a three-bedroom apartment that had just enough space for the two of us and the occasional guest. Life was, in all sense of the word, perfect.

It might have seemed hypocritical that I shopped at designer stores but, when I moved in with her and was given permission to use her card to whatever extent I wanted to, I decided that I would do as much damage to her account as I could, hoping that she'd go bankrupt. Of course, that wouldn't happen, but a girl could dream.

Also, I took great pleasure in swiping the card at every designer store in the mall but hers. Her label was called Tiffany Wentworth, with her having used her maiden name because her late husband's last name was, in her words, much too plebian.

Besides, I was a girl and I loved shopping. The kind of stuff I could buy with her money, wasn't normally available to me, so I used the situation to my advantage.

The rest of the month passed as quickly as I could expect it to, with me dreading going to my new school. I spent as much time as I could in bed, eating and watching Netflix. I binge-watched my way through Gossip Girl, Friends and American Horror Story, even though I'd seen all three shows more times than I could count and I ate too much popcorn and Nutella and ordered pizza every other day- Javier, the cute delivery guy, and I were even on first name terms.

I regretted all of that, though, when I had to go to the gym a block away every damn morning. Unfortunately, I wasn't the kind of girl who could eat whatever she wanted and not get fat.

Eventually, though, it was time for me to go to school. I knew I wouldn't fit in, especially because there were only two high schools in the district and these people had been going to school together for years.

But, after dreading it for the past month, it was time for me to bite the bullet and deal with it because it was finally the day. My first day. Mommy dearest was in LA and I had to find my own way to the high school she had signed me up in.