[ one ]
It never surprises me how far someone will go to keep a secret. I mean, covering a scandal is an essential when you live in the world I do. It’s almost second nature to think about how society reacts to what you do, for instance; if I was caught kissing someone in an alley, I would think about 1.) my parents thoughts and 2.) the media, specifically Twitter and Instagram. Those two are the most influential of my time.
But I didn’t think I would be the person that stops the media from finding out about a scandal, usually I’m the one committing the scandal, not the other way around.
See, my life hadn’t always been something that falls on the lines of Gossip Girl or not even something dramatic like One Tree Hill. No, I was just a rich white girl with daddy issues, that’s how most of them start. Like I was the next Blair Waldorf or something, no I was just me, Juliet Luxembourg.
My name is very significant in that sense, first of all, I’m a Luxembourg. We were British, coming to America after they declared dependence and starting one of the biggest industries here--stocks. My father owns a lot of stocks on Wall Street, my mother is just his trophy that he won when her family lost most of their money when the market dipped.
It’s tragic, thinking about it now, but they put on a great show. They attend banquets, dinners, awards, ribbon-cuttings, and a whole lot more of wealthy events. They like to show their bank account by buying the most luxurious wardrobe, bedazzled jewelry, and the most tasteful shoes.
I’ve had to attend these parties ever since I was able to use my dimples to gain money in the stocks. Many young women and old men would invest in my father, for the greater good. I loved dressing up in the dresses, twirling on the dance floor, but more importantly, I loved just being able to live without a care in the world.
Then my parents started to put on the pressure of courting and eventually marrying someone who came from ‘the same money we do’. That started around when I was in sixth grade, and when I brought home Jude Felix for a seventh grade science project--my parents immediately wanted us to wed. Not only did the Felix’s have money, they had the media on their side--seeing as they had shareholders in many of the major social media’s that are popular.
So we started courting in eighth grade, giving us enough time for dating in high school and eventually I would marry him after high school while he went to college. That’s the deal, many women that live on the upper east side don’t get a college education--the men do all of the work for them. We are just eye candy to make them look like family men.
That’s what it’s like for my family, excluding my aunt and uncle. My uncle had decided to take his own path after high school not going to an Ivy League like everyone did generations before, including my father. He got an education with his own money, from his trust fund, and met the woman of his dreams. I always felt a connection with my aunt and uncle, even though they don’t come around as often as I would like them to. They travel a lot--she’s a competitive surfer while he’s a journalist for the National Geographic magazine. They have a pretty amazing life that I wanted for a long time.
But the constant pressure that my parents put on me to marry into more money slowly consumed my actions. Now I don’t even think about doing something if it doesn’t either get good publicity or involves with a wealthy family of our status.
That’s how it’s always been and that’s how it will always be.
In the world of the wealthy, there are five major families of the Upper East side of New York City; the Gregg’s, the Felix’s, the Lawson’s, the Sax’s, and finally the Luxembourg’s. We own most of the property, stocks, and media that make up New York City. You will also find all of the children of these families going to Yorktown Prep, a school that only the elite of the elite go to. Of course, our families were the founding father’s of the prep school, but that’s our legacy we were given.
It’s not common for more students to go here, but it’s very hard to get in, and even harder to stay in. With all of the drama that goes on between us ‘rich kids,’ most middle class or lower wealth kids don’t want to be even in the same vicinity as us snobby teens.
We take pride in that, keeping the Upper East side exclusive to us. Once in a while we’ll get a girl on a scholarship or a boy whose family hit the jackpot, but soon enough those funding will run out and we will be the ones left on top.
I’m one of the higher ranking of the families, therefore automatic queen bee status, which I mean technically my sister was queen before me but--details. I’m leaving the throne to my younger sister, who will hopefully carry on the legacy that me and my older sister created for Yorktown Prep.
There are a series of tasks called trials for those who want to rule, and I have someone just in mind of the task, my younger sister Viola. She is just like me, although I’m a bit meaner to the underclassmen. She’s going to be a junior next year, and I think she needs to be in reign so that the Luxembourg name can live on without any Luxembourg’s there.
I’m the middle child of the family, first is my sister Rosaline. She’s in college, going to Columbia which is just down the way from our penthouse in the city. We have a country home but that is only used when we have Christmas parties to host. She’s two years older than me, so she gave me the throne when I was going into my sophomore year. Then there’s me. I’m graduating this year, which is awesome because I want to attend Harvard next year. It may be a bit ambitious but I want to study Mathematics there, seeing as they have a great program. Finally is my little sister Viola, who will be a junior next year. She will resume the throne when I’m gone, continuing on the legacy until she picks someone to take it over when she get’s to my age.
Today is the first day back from winter break. I’m sure everyone will talk of how they went to the Alps for skiing, or how their parents took them on a Caribbean cruise to escape the New York winters, or my personal favorite, “they enjoyed staying in their pent house that was twice the size of some families homes.”
What a load of bull is all that I’m saying. All us rich kids want to do is try to make us seem like we’re richer than anyone, which is usually the case with me and my friends.
I was currently getting ready for the big day, the final semester of my senior year--which couldn’t have come any sooner. I wanted to get out of high school, to be out in the real world. I wanted to do something with the family business, nothing that Rosaline wanted to do. She wants to be a journalist for a magazine or newspaper. Dad was so angry with her when she told him she didn’t want to be the heir to the company, seeing as she had been the plan the whole time. But I guess I was the contingency plan all along.
Which then lead to me getting a good husband that came from a good family like ours, and pressuring me into dating Jude Felix. He was a handsome boy on his own, his black hair curling around his forehead and brown eyes shining through his thick lashes. He had a light dusting of freckles on his cheeks, but I called them constellations--a new one would appear out of the blue one day and he would act like it was nothing.
I admired that about Jude, he was so oblivious to all of his surroundings, it gave him the illusion that he wasn’t as tainted as most of the boys at our school are. Jude’s best friend is Griffin Billings, a troublemaker but a lovable one. Over the years I’ve been with Jude, I’ve come accustomed to Griffin being with us for most of the time, but I always think he likes me. Whenever Jude and I sit next to each other, I always find Griffin stealing glances my way--to a point where I’m pretty sure he just stares at me.
Griffin gave me that ‘boy next door’ impression, with his golden waves and hazel eyes, he was a true charmer, but he didn’t use this to his advantage like most boys whom are my age. He was actually decent, much like Jude is.
Then there is my best friends, Olivia and Mia. Olivia is like me, coming from money. Her family is one of the main families that run New York, whereas Mia comes from a slightly different background. Her mother comes from wealth, but well her father doesn’t. See, he’s this ‘tortured artist’ that doesn’t get paid like anything but her mother pays for her attendance at Yorktown Prep, seeing as that is where she went to school as well. Olivia and I tease Mia in a loving way about her father, but he makes a pretty mean omelet.
Olivia and Mia are both model-worthy, which I have told them many times. They need to just be found by like...Vivian Benitez and be a famous model at the ripe age of seventeen. They are both tall as trees, and slender like the skyscrapers we grew up next to. Olivia has wavy blonde hair that reaches just under her shoulder braids, slightly parted to the left to shield her face from the sun. Her pale skin contrasts lovely with her bright blue eyes, but not so much with the sun. Whereas Mia was graced with extremely long brown hair, and beautiful hazel eyes, which are significantly darker than Griffin’s.
We have another friend, but she doesn’t come from the same wealth Olivia, Mia, and I do, she’s one of the selected few to participate in Yorktown’s Scholarship Program, where a couple of lucky public school student will spend their four years of high school in Yorktown.
Her name is Amelia, which sounds fancy, but she is the complete opposite. She has choppy strawberry blonde hair and the same type of constellations on her cheeks as Jude. Amelia has chocolate brown eyes and always has a smile on her face. Amelia, Olivia, Mia, and I are best known in the school for being the tight knit group of ‘mean girls,’ when in reality we are just honest.
Then there’s me. I have long blonde curls, and what my mother likes to call--amber eyes. Apparently they are one of the rarer eye colors, but hey, means that I’m unique apart from my friends. Well, I guess my body shape is different from my friends as well. Where most of them are extremely tall and thin, I’m not as fortunate. I was graced with my mother’s stunning height of 5′ 4", and a curvier figure. I’m more of an hourglass, where everyone else is a sky scraper.
It sucks, especially when all of your friends are loaning each other shoes, clothes, jackets, and I can’t have anything because I’m significantly bigger than all of them. It’s not that I eat a lot, I eat moderately, but I just don’t burn as easily as they do. As everyone else does. I share Mom’s blonde hair with Viola, but nothing with Rosaline besides our attitudes. They both have startling blue eyes that they received from our mother and their tallness from our father
As I’m standing at the mirror, looking at my body from the side I notice the things no one else sees. I see the cellulite that’s built up on my thigh, the stretch marks that shows the growth of my body on my hips, stomach, breasts, and of course my upper arms. I notice the slight muffin top that pokes over my Calvin Klein underwear, and how disproportionate I look to my eye. That was the moment that Viola decides to knock on my door, taking me away from my self-deprecating thoughts.
“Hurry up Juliet, mom wants us to be on the way to school in fifteen minutes!” She yells from the other side of the oak door in the hallway. I scramble to grab my silk robe, quickly tying it in place to hide the most embarrassing parts of myself from my sister, and open the door with a scowl on my chubby face.
“Just give me a second.” I muttered when I stood facing my sister, clad in the mandatory pleated skirt, sweater vest, and plaid tie that hung around our neck.
“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” She asked, her blue eyes filling with wonder. I felt my stomach clench at the thought of food, but I pushed the feeling to the back of my mind.
“I already ate, Jeffery brought me toast this morning when I went to the gym.” I told her. She looked at me, her eye brows furrowing but she didn’t object. She must’ve believed me.
“Okay, just be ready in a couple of minutes--mom’s orders.” She finished, walking away from my door and down the hall. Thank God she didn’t press on further, I don’t know what I would’ve said in place of a question. She may look like a dumb blonde, but she was very analytical.
The not eating and exercising is something I’m trying. I can’t diet to save me, so I’ll just not eat. It’s simple really, if I can’t have any control if I allow myself to eat, then I just won’t eat. And the exercising is just an added weight--that’s ironically taking it away.
I hurriedly dress in the same outfit that Viola was wearing; pleated skirt, sweater, plaid tie, and of course my Mary Jane’s. They were an essential part of my wardrobe, so much I think I invested in the company and may partially own it? I don’t know, I have to check my stocks after school. I quickly part my hair that’s been drying since I took a shower after my workout, and grab my empty school bag. It sure as hell won’t be empty at the end of the day, but I could enjoy this while it lasts, seeing as it was the second semester of my senior year.
Making my way down the stairs to the elaborate entertainment space and into the kitchen where I found mother sitting at the island reading To Kill a Mockingbird, Jeffery--our butler--cleaning the kitchen from when he served breakfast just an hour ago, and father sitting with Rosaline and Viola. They were all huddled around the newspaper, most likely doing the crossword search.
I went to my mother’s side, giving her a side hug to greet her. She looked up from her favorite novel, her reading glasses slipping down her nose just a fraction. That’s another attribute we shared, our passion for reading. She loved the classics; Harper Lee, Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemingway, Virginia Woolf, Jane Austen, and of course Shakespeare. Hell--in honor Shakespeare, she named all of three of her daughters after his female characters. Hence my name being Juliet.
“Good morning Sunflower, I heard you in the gym this morning, how did that go?” She asked, lovingly pulling me tighter against her body. I smiled shakily at her.
“Intense.” Was all I replied. She gave me a knowing look. She knew I wanted to lose weight, hell, she encouraged me day and night to lose the baby weight I had accumulated over my years. She said it may give people the wrong impression about me, so she suggested that I lose it before it get’s harder to lose it. I didn’t understand when she said this, seeing as it’s already a helluva lot harder to lose weight than it is to gain it.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, it will be gone sooner than you think.” She says with an encouraging smile. That’s when everyone decided to join this already private conversation.
“I don’t think you need to lose weight honey, I think you are beautiful just the way you are.” My father said from the table, not even looking up from the political cartoon section. He chuckled at an exaggerated picture of Trump’s wig flying through the wind with a bunch of doves.
“Easy for you to say.” I muttered more to myself.
“Oh please Juliet, you’re already respected at school, I don’t see the need to lose your assets.” Rosaline piped up from where she sat eating a bowl of granola.
Granola...
“It’s just society’s outlook on women. We need to be skinny, clueless, and willing to put up with male dominance.” Viola spoke in a strong voice from beside father, looking over his shoulder at the opinion section.
“Okay Ms. Feminist, chill. I was encouraging her to not lose weight, ’kay?” Rosaline replied sassily. The girls continued to bicker back and forth, mother and father reading their respective literary devices, and me just standing there. I glanced down at my watch.
“Crap, Viola we gotta go.” I told her, grabbing my bag from the counter and my phone that was placed next to it. She too looked down at her own watch, cursing like a sailor, and scrambled out of her seat towards the elevator that served as our front door.
“Bye mom! Bye dad!” She squealed while waiting for the elevator to reach our floor.
“Bye lovelies!” We heard our mother say. Rosaline appeared next to us just as the elevator dinged, signalling it was ready to take us down.
“Where are you going?” I asked her.
“School? I have class too ya know.” She replied in a ‘duh’ tone, rolling her eyes at me.
We all piled into the decently sized elevator, making our way towards the floor when the elevator dinged again, signalling there was another passenger awaiting.
“We’re already late, I can’t believe dad got me started in the political section again.” Viola mumbled to herself in an astonished tone.
“Don’t blame him for you’re outspokenness, you asked him to show you the cartoons.” Rosaline piped up from the corner, typing on her phone rapidly.
When the elevator doors opened, they revealed the very bane of my existence. There, standing in the cramped elevator, was my utter and complete opposite in this world.
William Lawson.
He was decent looking, with his stubble covered jawline, boyish blue eyes, and quiffed brown locks. He was the epitome of a women’s dream man, but he used it to his advantage--a little too much.
“Ladies...” wait for it, “Juliet.” William greeted in his smooth tone, excluding me because he just liked to single me out for anything and everything.
“William.” I said curtly, quickly shutting down the conversation and any development for arguing.
“Hey Will, how’re you?” Viola piped up from beside me, instantly falling for the Lawson charm. I rolled my eyes at the stars in hers.
“Nothing much Vi, what about you? Excited that school is half way done?” He asked, but I just wanted to ignore everyone. I watched the numbers decrease until we stopped suddenly, going back up near the penthouses.
“What now?” I muttered.
“That would be me, Ms. Luxembourg.” Another deep voice said when the doors opened. It was the other bane of my existence, Theodore Gregg.
“Joy.” I muttered, looking down at my watch. It wasn’t that much of a walk, seeing as a regular commute to Yorktown would take about ten minutes. Seeing as the morning traffic has most likely decreased, then it should maybe take closer to seven minutes--
“Earth to Juliet? Hello?” The thick British accent pulled me out of my mathematical induced trance. Did I mention that Theodore was British? I didn’t? I really should have...
“What do you want you two?” I asked the two pretty boys.
“Just want to talk to our favorite Luxembourg senior is all.” William stated with a pout, to which Viola was eating up like all of their conquests at school.
“Whatever.” I mumbled, going back to my mental math problem.
When the elevator dinged again, signalling ground floor, I bolted out of the compact sized room, but not before hearing;
“See you at school Luxembourg!”
No--I really wished we didn’t see each other...like ever.
