"𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜
𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎"

---

Remember, when I mentioned dad was crazy and rich? Let me explain the latter.

Marshall Wilde (my dearest daddy) owns Wilde Corps, a company he started with Ruth Kingston before they got married. Let's just say Dad was a smartass science geek in his time, but he loved his work because he got to do it with her. Having started as a small software company, it soon became a large technology business, manufacturing on average two hundred million Wildtabs a year. But then we - I was born, and Mom died. So he took a break.

He raised us alone, changing diapers, making formulas, running to the hospital with me. He didn't have time to grieve or mourn the loss of his beloved wife. Dad became a ticking time bomb, on the brink of combustion. Consequently, when he did eventually return to the business world, his pain translated into dollars which soon led to Wilde Corps being the fifth largest tech group in the world. Now, we're fourth.

I don't think Dad loves his work anymore - maybe he slaves away in his office all day to keep the memory of Mom alive. But regardless, he makes money.

And in our wonderfully materialistic and hierarchical society, what does money mean? Yes, you got it!

One word: status.

We live in a cul-de-sac on the 'rich' side of Chicago, Gold Coast, where great tumbling bungalows line the breath-taking Lake Michigan. Too bad the sight of snobby men and women with up-turned noses ruin the view.

Astrid's friends also live in similar mansions in similar neighbourhoods. We also all go to the same toxic slaughterhouse, otherwise known as Gold Coast Academy.

Speaking of, join me as I'm being dragged off to my ultimate doom in a speeding BMW convertible.

"Don't give me that look, Teagan. How is it my fault that Dad makes you go to school?" Astrid says dryly, shooting me a side-glance as she zooms out of our neighbourhood.

I huff, not bothering to reply.

I like the concept of school, sue me. Why wouldn't I want to learn as much as I could about the world I'll soon be parting from? Soon, being the key word. The thing is, I don't have time. I don't want to spend my last years drowning in exams, when I could be experiencing the world for what it is. But Dad is convinced I'd live forever, and if it was up to him, I probably would. But it's not, and he's wasting the precious ounces of my time with this. And I'm not happy, and nor am I going to pretend to be.

What's worse is that high school is an unbearable microcosm of the cul-de-sac, and of the conspicuous divide between Chicago's rich and Chicago's poor. I hate it. I mean, what's to love about watching the middle class kids get bullied and the upper classes getting the elite treatment even from teachers? Excuse me, but which level of hell am I on?

We pull up at our usual parking spot, and I wait for it. 3...2..-

"AHHH-"

"Astrid!"

"-Where have you been, girlfriend?"

I personally like to call them the Exes, but to my blind-as-a-bat sister, they're Becks and Lex.

Annoyed, I roll my eyes as I watch the blonde bimbos ambush my twin, ignoring me completely. Ugh, if only closed minds came with closed mouths...

"So last night, Will totally asked me out-"

"Ugh, no he didn't He was drunk, Becks, chill out. He only fucked you. There's a difference, babe."

I'm sorry, but I just can't. I sigh, as I always do in the nauseating presence of my sister's minions, and get out of the car. Pulling my backpack over one shoulder, I begin my trek to the large, looming building at least half a mile away.

I always ask Astrid, "Why do we have to park so far away from the actual school?" and she always replies, "Don't be lazy Teagan, besides you know I have to wait for Sam." BTW, Samuel Finch is her current flavour of the month, the hotshot QB. Four weeks before that, it was a James Dean lookalike, who I can't remember the name of, and before that, I vaguely recall it being Quinn Blakely... or maybe, Reed Smith... Oh whatever, you get the gist, right?

By the time I reach the high school doors, I'm pretty sure I look like a fish out of water, gasping like every breath was my last. Again, I know what you're thinking: same, I'm unfit too! - but no.

I'm not popular as Gold Coast, hardly compared to my sister. Hell, I'm not even there most of the time, but does anybody notice? No. Why? Because I'm too rich to be bullied and too ugly to be liked.

Don't worry, I'm not depressed nor obsessed with my appearance. In fact, I truly couldn't give a lesser damn if I tried. Where Astrid would take to the gym with her minions to perfect her booty, I stay at home on the couch with my only reliable friend: Netflix. I don't, nor will I ever, covet her close-to-perfect figure or her shiny hair or her flawless skin. I mean: what's the use of wasting sweat, blood and tears on a body that would be soon six-feet under and rotting before I know it?

I check my timetable on my phone. Great. Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic. (Sorry, I usually only curse when I'm particularly stressed and if you had physics first thing on a Monday morning, I doubt you'd be jolly and bright either.}

Nonetheless, I think you and I have established one thing: you do not want to be me.

***

Just having finished my third period - Maths, I know - I walk to my locker, where I'm greeted by a revolting sight.

Two creatures, of the human species I believe, seconds away from copulating against the surface that I touch every day with the hands I use to eat. Even better, one of them appears to be my twin.

My lunch makes a threatening start in my stomach and I fear that it will soon make an appearance. I clear my throat loudly to gain their attention. God, was this even legal? They don't budge. I clear my throat louder, until I'm sure that I'm scraping the flesh off my esophagus. They still don't move.

For a second, I contemplate driving my skull through a wall to get their attention. But then I decide against it: Dad wouldn't be very happy with that.

Guess what I do next... I sigh. And walk away, arms still burdened with the weight of heavy textbooks. Beautiful people. I guess there's no breaking their elite bubble.

***

She tells me when we get home to a birthday lunch. Her plans, which she wants to be mine.

(By the way, you didn't forget did you? That today was my birthday? I wouldn't blame you if you did, the way my day has been going. So far, it only feels like her birthday.)

"Teagan..." Astrid begins, just as I'm about to take a bite out of the triple-chocolate-fudge-brownie cake that she refused. "...I'm going to miss you so much when you leave! Please spend the day with me?"

That's it? "Duh, Astrid? It's not like I was going to ditch you for my insanely desperate fanclub, who call themselves my friends."

Creases appeared between her arched brows as she furrowed them. "But, Teagan, you don't have-"

"Exactly."

"Oh." Then, it dawns on her. "Ooooohhh, Teagan! You smartmouth, you actually had me thinking that you felt lonely for a second!" she squeals, like she's cracked the most impossible code in the world.

"I did, did I?" I remark dryly, fighting against the burning urge to let my eyes make a full 360 degrees rotation.

"Anyway, I've already planned our day! You're gonna love it T!" she announces.

My heart warms a little. She rarely calls me T, except when she's really excited and pleased. "But, Astrid, we don't have a day. We have," I look at my watch, noticing that it's been an hour since we returned from school at three-thirty, "eight hours, tops. Otherwise, Agatha-"

"Yeah, yeah, that cranky old crone," Astrid says, impatiently before her voice brightens. "I asked Dad if we could stay out later tonight, and he said yes."

"But there's nothing open at night..."

A conspiratorial gleams dances in her emerald orbs, as she mysteriously replies, "You'll see."

Oh no.

"But first, we-"

"Let me guess, shopping!" I interrupt her with my most fake happy tone. Gosh, who knew sarcasm would be such an effort?

Her face falls for a second. "Wait, how did you know?"

No, no, no, no, please God n-

"Anyway, I'm so glad that you're excited, T! Here, I was getting scared you didn't like shopping."

I groan audibly, as loud as I can before I'm forced to accept my star-crossed fate.

"What's wrong? Hurry up, Teagan! We don't have time!"

Reluctantly, cautiously, mildly scared for my life, I let her drag me out of the games room and into the garage.

"Let's take your car, today. Mine's outta fuel," she explains, leading the way to my matte black Jeep Wrangler.

"Astrid, I must really love you," I tell her seriously, as I climb into the driver's seat. I want her to know before... anything happens. I really do love my sister.

The green glaciers melt in her eyes, as she looks at me. She really looks at me, and I wonder what she sees. I don't want to know.

For a second, she seems speechless before she speaks. "Teagan, you're my bestest, bestest friend... And whatever Dad is doing, I'm glad because heaven knows what I would do without you, sister. I love you more."

Something gets caught in my throat. "I love you most," I finish, "sister."

We don't speak after that. I pull out of the garage, and head towards Magnificent Mile, where the mall was. I think about how we have so little in common, but when I need her, she's there. Deep in my heart, I know whatever she needs to do for me, she will.

Astrid looks out of the window, and I hear her sniff.

I know she would give up everything for me.

My cheeks feel damp.

And I hope that day never comes.

Never in a thousand years.

---

𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝔾𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 ℂ𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕝𝕖 ❤︎
𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 ☻︎

xoxo
Aviana