Chapter 1 : News
As I walked along the beach, I felt the Miami heat invading my pores on my tan skin. My blonde hair flew behind me. I hated my hair. It didn’t go with the rest of my body. I look nothing like my mom. Except the hair color. Everything else comes from my father. Brown eyes, tan, everything else. I have none of my mom’s blue eyes, fair skin, and long legs. Personally, I thought it’s a good idea that my parents split up and I got stuck with dad. Fine. They didn’t get divorced. They aren’t even separated. They just live in different states. But at least no one looks at me and my mom and ask, “Is that you’re daughter?” It’s annoying.
Within five minutes, I had reached the front of my father’s penthouse in the center of Miami. I hated that I had to walk along the beach everyday to get to andfrom school. Some people love it. Unfortunately, I’m not ‘some people’. I’m Franchesca Hyde. Daughter of famed music producer Hayden Hyde, and super model Vanessa Graham. My parents don’t want me. I was a mistake. And they remind me every day. I could live with that. Really. But if being neglected by your parents is bad enough, think about being double neglected. My father constantly tells me how fun it would’ve been if I was a boy. Nice dad. The best. I opened the door to the penthouse, and surprise, surprise, my dad ignored me. I sighed and rolled my eyes, then make my way to my room. Which, thankfully, is the room farthest away from my dad’s.
Homework’s already finished by five, and I had nothing else to do. So I grabbed my Mac Book and surfed the web. I logged on the Waverly High’s social website, and instantly get hit with nasty comments like, ‘Your hair is pathetic’ and ‘You’re a nobody who doesn’t deserve epic parents’. Again. I’m pretty used to it. I looked into my bag, and saw the hair-dye I bought earlier that day, while I was on my way home. Dark brown. Just like my father’s. I reached in, grabbed the dye, and walk over to my bathroom and dyed my hair. Stupid strawberry blonde hair. It doesn’t even match me! Thank god that I didn’t have to see it again. I took my shower straight after, so I could save time, since it was nearing dinner and dad would never wait for me. After my shower, I looked into the mirror, and saw the new me. I looked so much better with brown hair.
When I walked into the dining room at seven thirty that night, I knew something was up. Mainly because my mother was in the room making out with my dad. With mom sitting on the table. It was disgusting. Sure, they’re famous and they’re what, thirty-five? But seriously, their sixteen year-old daughter did not have to see that. I cleared my throat as loud as humanly possible, hoping that they would hear me. Mom did. She detached herself from dad, who gave out a little “Humph” And look at me.
“Hi, Honey,” She said. I had to bite my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. ‘Honey’? Seriously? She never calls me ‘Honey’. Even just the word coming from her mouth makes me want to roll on the floor clutching my stomach. “How was your day?” That’s when I was positive something was up.
“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked, trying to prevent myself from vomiting from my mother’s fake niceness.
“Oh, darling, sit down.” She hopped off the table and sat to the left of dad’s chair on our round mahogany table. I sat down at the chair farthest away from them. Thankfully, because the table seats twelve, it wasn’t so hard.
“What’s going on?” I repeated.
“Franchesca, me and your mother are going to take a vacation in Europe...” Dad said calmly. This was no surprise to me, since they frequently go to and take vacations without me. It’s not like they even notice and acknowledge me. I mean, come on. I was sitting right in front of them with brown hair instead of blonde, and they don’t even say a word about it. But the next thing he said made me jump thirty feet into the air. “…for a year.”
“WHAT!?!” I yelled as I blasted out of my chair. This was unbelievable.
“Honey, Chesca darling, calm down,” Mom told me. I calmed down a little. Just enough to sit down again, but that wasn’t enough.
“You can’t do that! I’m a minor! Where would I go?” I told them, fury evident in my voice.
“We got that covered,” Dad replied.
“How? School’s ending in a month!”
“Chesca, we’re not leaving until your first day of school at Connor Stanley.”
“Connor Stanley? Dad, Connor Stanley is an All-Boys School, not to mention in New York!”
“Darling, everybody thinks that the Hyde’s have a son. We need to keep up our image!” Of course, Mom always thinks about her image. Nothing else.
“But I’m a girl, and it’s in New York!” Dad sighed heavily.
“Yes, yes. We know that. That’s why we’ll make you look like the son we’ve always wanted, and we’ll ship you off on the first day of school. Simple.” Simple my ass, Dad.
After a couple more hours of argument and failed persuasion to let me live here alone, I got up to collapse on my bed. At least I didn’t have any friends to say good-bye to. Miranda Dirk made sure of that. Total preppy, pink loving bitch of Waverly High. When I finally got myself under control, I sat up and picked up my laptop. I typed in ‘Connor Stanley’ into the search bar, and researched my new school.
Connor Stanley’s Academy for Boys
Manhattan, New York
Connor Stanley is the best all-boy’s boarding school in the history of the United States of America. We have maintained the best S.A.T. and A.C.T. scores in America since 1980, and have been producing the most intelligent people since 1901. Connor Stanley is an extremely exclusive school, only taking boys who have scored exceptionally well in all their tests in all of their middle school years, and in our invigorating entrance test. Connor Stanley boys graduate and enter only the best schools the world has to offer, from Yale, to Stanford, to Cambridge and Oxford, Connor Stanley is the best place for the most intelligent boys to call home.
YOU ARE READING
Double Identity
Teen Fiction“That was marvelous!” He said. “Great job, Frank. Or, should I say, Franchesca?” I took a deep breath. A very, very deep breath. “Oh my God,” Was the most intelligent thing I could say. “’Oh my God’ is correct. How long have you been lying to us?” “...
