Here's the prologue for my newest fic - Isabella has a lot of problems, so we've got a ways to go.
Song Rec: Ray LaMontagne - "Be Here Now"
I considered complaining again, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. There was no point in arguing. My parents' minds were made up, and there was no turning back now. We would just have to adjust, they told us. We would learn to love it, they said assuredly. Bullshit, I said to them, but they didn't care. Jasper and I were just going to have to figure out a way to settle into our new lives.
Luckily for him, he only had one more year of school to suffer through. He said he was planning on coming right back out to the coast for college, and I didn't doubt him. While he was originally looking into the L.A. area since he knew so many people there, lately he said he was considering the two San's, and just needed to figure out north or south.
While San Diego had the sun he wanted, San Fran had the atmosphere he was looking for. I told him to head much further north to Portland or Seattle, where I wanted to go, and where we could get back to our artistic roots. He informed me that the kind of artistic roots I'd planted in Hollywood weren't the same sort as the good people of Portland. They probably hated Los Angelians.
My mom kept a small smile on her face as we turned off onto a gravel road. We had driven far enough to get out of the mountains, though their menacing height was visible from everywhere in Montana. I had to admit, the Rockies were gorgeous. The house we were moving into was a sprawling ranch that I loved aesthetically, and I could admit that I was looking forward to experiencing winter.
It was everything else I couldn't handle. Leaving my friends, leaving my jobs, leaving everything I'd known since I was a baby. I wouldn't know how to function without sitting in hours of loud, smoggy traffic or listening to idiotic starlets spout off what they thought was intellectual banter. I wouldn't be required to eat like a bird and get microdermabrasion every five weeks, but I also wouldn't even have the option. I'd already checked—the nearest dermatologist was one hundred miles away.
Granted, at times I got a little excited about the possibility of making real friends who weren't just using me. It would be nice to not have to get gussied up every morning for school. My mom assured me that the kids at our tiny high school would be painfully normal—like the kind in those wholesome TV shows filmed in L.A. where the actors portraying them were cokeheads and bulimics. I wouldn't have to deal with as many cokeheads and bulimics, and that made me happy.
Mom and Dad insisted that we needed to grow up in a lower pressure environment, though I wanted to shout at them that I finished growing up several years before, after my first big part in a movie and the first blow job I ever gave. I was twelve, it was the summer, and I became a woman. After that, I had a tidy sum of money tucked away from the part, and I ended the season with three boys' virginity under my belt. It was a good year, and maybe if we'd moved before then, I wouldn't have become whom I did. It was too late now, but I didn't have the heart to tell Mom that.
I sighed once our new home came into view. It was breathtaking—expansive, real wood siding, huge bay windows, and a gigantic deck to sit on in the evenings and watch the sun fall over the mountain tops. It was forty minutes away from school, so Jas and I would have to make a major trek each morning and afternoon, though we didn't mind. I'd stowed away enough pills to last through Halloween, if I was careful, and could probably finagle a trip back home to snag some more. I told myself it wouldn't be that bad.
I just hoped the wilderness didn't swallow me whole.
The next chapter will be up Monday. Thanks for reading. :)
Find me on Twitter (at) ginginleelee