Читать книгу The Pink Sneakers Club - Christian Jr. Bertoni - Страница 5

Thursday, 6:45 AM

I woke up to the soothing sounds of the ocean. I sat up in my large, king-size bed, my light blue Duvet bunched at the foot of my bed. I let the music continue to play, stretched, swung my legs over the side, stretched again and got up. Life is good. MMMMMMM.

I turned off the music and padded across my thick, carpeted room down the hallway and made my way downstairs. Oh I almost forgot my name is Caren James.

I walked down the long, wide hallway and entered our ginormous kitchen. Yeah it’s a word don’t believe me? Look it up.

Our kitchen opened up to the back patio a large black, crescent-shaped, granite countertop sat in the middle with high-back bar stools around the front. Breakfast nook to one side with large top to bottom bay windows overlooking the double pool. A small waterfall separated the two pools. There were two large bedrooms downstairs, three bedrooms upstairs and a large sitting area that opened out to a balcony with stairs going down to the large cement covered patio. It’s pretty awesome.

You’re probably wondering how does an aerobics instructor afford a 5000 plus square foot home? Easy. My mom has been married 3 times. Her last marriage was to some gross, old fart who died three weeks later. He was wealthy. You’ve heard of filthy rich? He was disgustingly rich. So my mom inherited everything. I mean everything. He had no kids, no ex-wives. Jackpot! It reminds me of that old saying, “if you don’t have money your stupid.”

I was in the kitchen eating a Special K bar when my mother walked in still wearing her black Versace dress.

“Hey sweetie your up.”

“You just getting in?” I asked. Not really surprised. She’d been doing that for the past month.

“Yeah,” she tousled her hair, “Andrew just couldn’t let me go.” I rolled my eyes. She says that every time.

My mom is pretty cool. Her and my dad have been divorced for about ten years now. He moved out west somewhere I don’t really know. It’s just my mom and me.

She’s got long, dark brown hair, heavy curls and dark eyes. She is in a matter of speaking voluptuous and curvy.

“Well momma’s going to shower, change and take a little nap. You okay to get yourself off to school?”

“Always am.” I said. “How about letting me borrow the Aston Martin?”

She gave me a look only a mother could give, but I have my own look. I opened my big, blue eyes wide and gave a little half smile. Reel it in. Reel it in. Not too much. Tilt the head to one side. Wait for it. Wait for it.

“Okay. Be careful with it. It’s my baby.”

Bingo! Works every time. Hahahaha. I’m so evil. “Thanks mom you’re the best.” I kissed her on the cheek and ran upstairs to get ready for school.

I decided today to wear a pink shirt and white cardigan, Miss Me jeans and pink Nike. Dabbed a little make-up here and there and some light pink lip-gloss. Stuck my favorite sunglasses from Urban Outfitters on my head and gave myself the once over. I’m too pretty for words. I'm a model you know what I mean. And I do my little turn on the catwalk. Yeah, on the catwalk on the catwalk, yeah. I do my little turn on the catwalk. Oh my gosh! There are words expressing how pretty I am.

I winked at myself in the mirror and headed out the door.

I took the white, convertible Aston Martin out and headed for school. Gonna be an awesome day!!! I sped down the street, checked my white-gold Rolex and realized I still had over twenty-five minutes. Plenty of time to stop at Starbuck’s.

I ordered a Double Mocha Latte, and headed for school.

Got to school, walked around the back and saw Deirdre sitting on one of the benches, reading.

“Hey Dee, s’up.” I called out.

“Nothing.”

“So, what are you reading?”

“Principles of Quantum Mechanics. It’s my third time around.”

I took a sip of my coffee, “sounds boring.”

“Oh no it’s an excellent book . . . the postulates of quantum mechanics and the mathematical underpinnings are written so clear and succinct. Dirac’s bras and kets would turn off most people. But not the way Shankar explains it, by attacking the problem head-on.”

“Dee, I get it. You’re an erudite. Quantum mechanics. It’s about as interesting as popular mechanics.”

Dee giggled. “How do you know the word erudite but you can’t understand Quantum Mechanics?”

“What can I say? I’m complicated.”

Finally! It was time for lunch and hang with my girls I walked across the schoolyard and into the cafeteria area. I found Randi, Kaye and Dee already sitting and eating. I pulled out a Special K bar for lunch from my purse and sat down.

“So what’s going?”

“Going over the latest gossip.” Dee answered.

“Oooh. What’d I miss?”

Randi began recanting her tales of gossip until Natalie strode over to our table. I don’t like other pretty girls near me. I don’t know how to explain it . . . it annoys me. A lot!

After Randi left, the girls started in on a discussion about something, something, moveable objects or whatever. I don’t know I was too busy filing my nails. Natalie asked me something at one point I just nodded. I wasn’t really listening. Song kept running through my head:

It's a small world after all. It's a small world after all. It's a small world after all. It's a small, small world.

Stupid Randi.

After lunch I went to the auditorium to work on the play, “The Taming of the Shrew.” I’m playing Katharina the main character. And Mark Harris the All-Star Quarterback is Petruchio.

I was sitting on the edge of the stage going over my lines when Belinda Johnson sat next to me. Belinda is about average height and curvy, not overweight. She’s constantly changing her hair color, and doesn’t really remember what it was naturally. She has blue green eyes, and a nice complexion. She’s nice when she wants to be but she’s still got a little bit of a self-centered attitude. She kinda wants to know how something can benefit her before she does it, which doesn’t bother me. But I’ve heard other people complain about her. Eh, to each their own. She’s my friend so I don’t really care. Besides how bad can she be she’s dating Mark Harris the quarterback and my lead in Taming of the Shrew.

“Hey mind if I sit here with you?”

“No, not at all. So? Did you?”

She began to blush, “no. I chickened out at the last moment.”

“Why?”

She was rather nonchalant. “Nobody was home.”

“I’m sorry? Nobody was home? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Well, normally yes, but there was no risk. You understand?”

“No. Not really.”

She shrugged her shoulders, “without the risk it’s not exciting.”

I glanced up and saw something strange, Natalie Pelledario talking to someone in an Armani suit. I have impeccable taste so I recognize expensive. It’s like a sixth sense. Except I don’t see dead people. Ewww. How gross would that be? No wonder that kid was all messed up.

“Hey, Caren. Caren.” Belinda snapped her fingers.

“Huh? What?”

“I lost you for a minute. So what do you think?”

“About?”

“Did you ever do it with John?”

“God no! He smelled. Plus I’m saving myself.”

“For what?”

I shrugged my shoulders, “I won’t be like my mom. I want to find the right guy someday.”

“I hear ya’, but I think it’s a bit naïve, don’t you?”

I glanced up and saw the well-dressed man pointing his finger at Natalie, like he was scolding her. Then he walked her out of the auditorium.

“Let me ask you a question, is it naïve to not want to make the same mistakes your parents made?”

“Touché.”

Ms. Oliver walked down the aisle towards us, “okay people I want to start rehearsing Act 3. Anybody who is not in Act 3 Scene 1 please take a seat.” She clapped her hands, “c’mon let’s go.”

Well I wasn’t in this scene so I decided to go and freshen up. “I’ll be right back.” I told Belinda.

I was in the bathroom fixing my hair, got my big can of hairspray from my purse and sprayed a nice coat. I reapplied my pink lip-gloss when Natalie walked in. I gave a little smile. Something between nothing and a slight rise from the side of my mouth. She did the same.

“So nice shirt? Isn’t that last years fashion?” She said.

I stopped putting my lip-gloss on and faced her, “excuse me? This happens to be a Donna Karin exclusive! I don’t wear last years anything! And as for you missy don’t talk to me about fashion. You’re wearing jeggings! Like, when did that become a thing????”

Jeggings were dark, skinny jeans with some stretch. They basically worked as leggings.

I continued, after all she started it, “I get Natalie that leggings-cum-jeans are a trend but come on. To the point that you buy these rather than regular jeans? Really? If I wore those god-awful things as jeans, I’d most definitely be That Girl. Talk to me again when you’re not wearing those things.” I pointed to her jeggings. “Bye.” I blew her a kiss and walked off.

I was glad school was over for the day so I could drive my mom’s car again. The four of us headed for the parking lot.

“I can’t believe that bitch screwed me!” Randi screamed in anger.

“What are you gonna do now?” Deirdre asked.

“What choice do I have? Either I do it or I don’t go to competition and let Natalie win. And I rather die before I let Nat-

At 3:05 the horn blared indicating a shift change at the chemical plant. Followed by a scream from above, and then -