Hey Romeo, Don't You Think Your Just A Tad Overrated?
Chapter 01: I'm Not a Princess
You know those crappy love stories that start out where this random chick meets up with some sort of totally hot hunk, and they look deeply into each other's eyes accidentally, and then BOOM! Its love at first sight, baby!
Well, my friends, sorry to disappoint, but that only happens when you're a blonde princess locked up in a tower stuck in one of those Aesop's Fables books or whatever. In fact, reality pretty much sucks, with a capital S. I used to think that, seeing how I lived in some uber-small town in the middle of Maine where everyone knows everything about one another. Plus homework, annoying teachers, paranoid parents, backstabbing friends, school, hormonal teenage girl problems, stupid boys and the usual jazz, you know? But of course, what happens? Everything goes even worse. Like it was even possible. But apparently, it was.
"Aurelie Chevalier to the main office," the loudspeaker crackled to life, interrupting my History teacher's very boring speech on the French Revolution.
I scooped up all my books off my desk and shoved them in my backpack, glad that I could finally escape the stifling classroom. Honestly, who wants to listen to an old man talk about something that happened like a thousand years ago? It was the middle of May for crying out loud! School's almost out! Summer's almost here!
I quickly exited and made my way to the main office located at the front of the building. I pulled at my t-shirt that was sticking unceremoniously to my sweaty back. It was unusually hot this summer. I shifted my backpack's weight. Suddenly I felt very dizzy. Something was not right.
"They called me down to the office?" I asked as I opened the door.
The secretary at the desk looked at me, pity in her eyes. "Aurelie Chevalier?" she asked.
I nodded, suddenly noticing the two police officers standing next to me. My throat grew thick. "What's wrong? Am I getting arrested?" My voice grew higher with pitch.
"No, no, it's nothing like that," the first officer spoke, his voice gentle. "It's just that…" he broke off, looking uncomfortable.
The second guy took over. "Your parents were in a very bad car crash just a little while ago."
"The car's totaled?" I asked, the first question jumping to my throat.
"Yes," the officer answered.
"My parents are in critical condition?"
"Are they…dead?" My voice cracked.
The officer hesitated. "Yes."
My blood started pounding. The summer heat was suddenly getting to me. And the last thing I ever remembered was the cold linoleum floor rushing up to meet me.
I woke up on a small cot. The first thing I registered was that the ceiling was gray. And boy, it was an ugly shade of gray. Like old elephant's skin. All wrinkly and gross. The memories from the last couple hours suddenly came rushing back. I jolted into a sitting position. The young nurse next to me yelped in surprise and dropped her clipboard.
"Where am I?" I demanded.
"The police station," she replied, regaining her composure. "How are you feeling Miss. Chevalier?"
"Where are my parents?"
She looked at me, the same look the secretary at school had given me earlier. Pity. The door swung open and the two officers from before walked in.
"Miss. Chevalier, we would like you to accompany us," one spoke.
I shakily swung myself off the cot and followed them outside into a small conference room, the walls the same shade of gray. It made me want to vomit. The officer started speaking. And I sat there for an hour, listening to the details.
"WHAT?!" I exploded after I had sat still for, oh, I don't know, a million minutes? "You can't do this to me!" I cried wildly, waving my arms around stupidly. "An adoption center? You're kidding right? Are you sure I don't have like some cousin second removed living in New Mexico or something like that?"
I wanted to pull my stupid blonde hair out of my head. Yes, I had blonde hair. And my blonde hair isn't even like, gold-blonde. It's yellow. Like the color of infected piss. Oh and while I'm at it, my eyes are gray. Yes, like the stupid walls. Sometimes they look bluer, and sometimes they're green. But trust me; I was definitely no princess either.
"No, we checked everything," the officer said, shaking his head sadly. "Only child, one mother, one father. Deceased grandfather from maternal side, deceased grandmother from paternal side, and no other living relatives or legal guardians mentioned."
"Friends?" I begged.
"It's illegal," the officer spoke up. "I'm very sorry, Miss. Chevalier. You'll be staying at St. Thomas Aquinas Foster Care and Adoption Center from now on."
I felt like an animal here. Young couples, old couples, barren couples, gay couples, etc. all came to look for suitable children to adopt or to care of. Except I was like the rabid animal that everyone passed over. Nobody in their right mind would want to adopt a full-grown, pubescent, sixteen year old sophomore who had piss colored hair that was probably a rat's nest right now. Nope, everyone prefers to raise those abandoned babies.
I never really had any close friends back at school. They completely ignored me now that I was at stupid St. Thomas Aquinas. I didn't really care. I didn't go to my old school anymore. Instead, I attend this even smaller local school near St. Thomas Aquinas. Other than attending the stupid school, I do nothing except sit on my bunk and write what's considered emo-poems. The first two months I was here, I refused to eat, refusing to accept the fact that my parents were now gone.
I remembered Mom would always make me and Dad her special fried chicken and mashed potatoes every single Sunday dinner, ending a tiring week and beginning a new one.
I remembered how I would always watch Sunday football with my Dad, even though I never understood football no matter how much my dad tried to teach me.
I had probably lost about fifteen pounds in the two months. Not that I was excessively fat or anything, but I always had that unwanted baby fat on my cheeks and stomach. I guess I was skinner now, but to be honest, the last time I checked the mirror was about…three weeks ago.
I drew my knees up to my chest and grabbed my blanket closer.
"Well, she's in here," I heard Dorian, our caretaker or manager person or whatever say. The door to my shared room opened. "Aurelie? You have visitors," Dorian said, stepping back outside.
I looked up, wary. A couple walked in. The man was probably in his mid-thirties, and he was very well dressed in a crisp three-piece suit. His dark hair was combed neatly, and his shoes were too shiny. The woman at his side looked a lot younger. Early to mid twenties. Either that or it was botox. She had on expensive looking heels, a nice summer dress, perfect make-up, and some expensive bling. I swear, 24-carat ring on her hand cost ten grand, hands down. It was sparkling more than the man's shoes. I didn't recognize them. And boy, did they look uncomfortable.
The man cleared his throat. "Aurelie? Hi, I'm David. David McAllister." He extended a hand stiffly. He pulled it back awkwardly after I glared at it pointedly. "This is my wife, Rachel."
She nodded stiffly, her expertly coiffed hair catching the light.
"Hi," I finally said after a minute's silence. "What are you here for?"
David exchanged a look with Rachel. "Well, we looked at your papers earlier," he admitted. "And to be quite frank, we would like to adopt you."
My jaw dropped, but the shock only stayed for a couple minutes. "Are you crazy?" I blurted. "Don't you want like, some poor orphaned baby to raise as your own? Not me, surely."
David shook his head. "No, Aurelie, we want to adopt you."
At this point, Dorian had entered again. "Mr. and Mrs. McAllister? Can you come with me to fill out some papers?"
Forty-eight hours later, I was sitting in a Bentley, my luggage in the trunk. I gazed out the window at the luscious scenery of Lake Forest, Illinois. Yup, Illinois. I had just flown from Maine to here, my new home apparently.
"You'll be happier there," Dorian had assured me. "What's the harm? Just start everything over."
Aw hell, I had thought. I have nothing else to lose anymore.
"David McAllister is the headmaster of a very prestigious school," Dorian had told me. "He and his wife Rachel are very affluent people. You be safe okay? Don't do anything rash," she had advised me. And with one last hug, I was off.
The Bentley rolled to a stop. "We're here," David, my new "father" announced. Next to him, Rachel was sitting stiffly. She didn't seem like a warm "mother."
I looked out the window and my jaw dropped again. Holy crap. Talk about a prestigious school. It was like a freaking small college campus. Intimidating and fancy red bricked buildings stood tall, the grass was all even mown and emerald green, and there was a huge marble fountain in the middle, water streaming over a naked woman with a huge bust into the pool. I could see a new football field way off in the distance, and to the right there were twenty beautiful tennis courts. I remember vaguely about the indoor swimming pool and diving pool that David had told me about earlier.
"Welcome to McAllister Academy," David said almost dryly.
No way. I was definitely living a fairy tale. Except for the fact that you know, I'll still never be a princess.
Copyright © 2009 Annabelle Elizabeth Rae Summers Summers