Chapter 1
“If you mix a sleeping teenager with her energetic little brother, then the result will not be pleasant”
Vics POV:
“Vic.....”
“Viiiic.....”
Maybe if you just ignore the little demon he’ll get the hint and go away.
“VALENCIA!”
“Go away you little brat,” I grumbled in my head. What is this kid thinking? Seriously, my alarm hasn’t even rang yet, and he has the audacity to try and pull me from my slumber.
The insistent voice of my brother behind me finally stopped, and I let out a silent sigh of relief. I just needed five more minutes of sleep, and then I’d be able to face another miserable Monday morning. Full of school, and people, and overbearing mothers, and homework, and annoying teachers, and......
“VIC!!!!!” My brother screamed at the top of his lungs, dumping freezing cold water over my head. I screeched as I flung up into a sitting position, sputtering as I flipped my bed tangled, now soaking WET sandy blonde hair out of my face. I turned my head to the side to give the most menacing glare I could muster at my nine year old brother. His big blue eyes radiated fear as he met my steely ones. I looked down at his hands, which are holding a plastic pail we use for our trips to the beach. I slowly dragged my eyes back up to his, making him squirm under my intense gaze.
“Run,” I growled out. Not even a second later I watched his blonde hair bounce out my door as he ran for his life. I flung off my white soaked covers revealing my black t-shirt that was thoroughly soaked. The chill of the water left me shivering as I stomped menacingly out my bedroom door towards the sound of my brothers pounding footsteps going down the double staircase. I smiled devilishly as I saw my brother slip on the slick marble floors that Diana, our housemaid, must have just polished. I flew halfway down the left staircase, and leaped over the side to land right in front of the little twerp who thought he could dump freezing water on my and get away with it.
“Hello Bellamy,” I purred with mock sweetness when he skidded to a stop before me. His blue eyes widened to saucers as he attempted a small laugh that sounded like he was about to pass out from fear. It didn’t help that I hovered over him a good foot. Gosh I loved being the older sister. My seventeen years of age trumped all his measly eleven years. His skinny frame,big blue eyes, and a halo of blonde hair may make him appear an angel, but I knew the truth. He inherited my wits, and devious mind, only he was able to escape punishment with that annoyingly innocent face of his. His fingers began tapping a nervous rhythm on the band of his jeans like he always does when I catch him.
“H-hey Vic! Y-you might want to start getting ready for school. We have to leave in forty minutes. You know how mom gets when we’re running late...” Bellamy trailed off, looking up with his innocent eyes. I narrowed mine at him as I realized he had me. Our mother would lose her shit if I decided to make her late to dropping off Bellamy at school, and her meeting with some rich family about designing their house. It took me a good thirty minutes to get ready, and no way was I missing out on Diana’s cooking. Today was supposed to be my favorite, peanut butter waffle sandwiches with bacon in the side.
If you’ve never had a peanut butter waffle sandwich, then I HIGHLY recommend you go to your nearest grocery store, and snatch the Eggos and Jif immediately. Seriously that stuff together is magical.
“Watch your back Blue,” I muttered, using the nickname I gave him when he was two as I bumped my shoulder against him when I walked past. He stumbled to the side, a little frown bringing the corner of his lips down at my threat. He walked away toward the kitchen. As I reached the landing of the stairs I watched Bellamy slouch into one of the stools at the kitchen bar top, waiting for Diana to come and make him his breakfast. I thought a couple mild profanities that would get me grounded for life if I ever spoke them out loud before making my way to my room.
I passed the two spare bedrooms my mother uses as viewing for her clients, and entered my room that was near the end of the hall. Now, you have another thing coming if you thought my room is perfectly decorated to my mother’s approval. Oh no. Instead of lilac colored walls and prissy decorations, my room was a deep navy blue with posters of my favorite bands/singers, actors, and quotes in a chaotic mess that only made sense to me. String lights hung precariously from the walls and ceiling. My wall to ceiling shelves across from my bed, and next to my window seat we’re stock full of books, spare machine parts from work, framed photos of my brother, father, and grandma, and a movie collection that could put Netflix to shame. On the wall next to my walk in closet door was a large cork board with pictures of my friends and I. They ranged from Polaroid’s to regular photos, but it wasn’t full yet. My room really portrays who I am, and what made me Me. And I’d be damned before I’d let anyone change who I was.
I snatched my phone off its charger on the bedside table before heading into the bathroom across the hall. I slammed the door shut behind me. Ignoring my notifications I went straight to Spotify, turning on my shower playlist. The beginning of P!NK’s song ‘So What’ began blasting through my phones’ speaker, earning a subtle head bang from me as I turned on the bathroom lights. I can’t possibly fathom how people shower or bathe without music. It makes the whole experience much more fun and enjoyable.
“Oh Bellamy, you don’t know what you got yourself into,” I grumble as I peel off my wet t-shirt, making a disgusted face at it before throwing it into the dirty clothes bin. I walk over to the shower and turn on the water, turning the handle all the way up so the water would be warm by the time I get in. I slipped off my fuzzy plaid pajama pants, and hopped into the shower.
“Hmmm, how shall I get back at you Bellamy Cerise,” I contemplated as I turned down the water temperature to one less back scorching. I started humming the chorus as I lathered my hair with my mango papaya shampoo and conditioner. I reveled in the citrusy scent as I massaged my scalp, thinking of a form of payback. Worms in his bed? I know he hates the slimy little things ever since he ate one that crawled into his macaroni during a cookout. Pink dye in his shampoo? Nah, mother wouldn’t be to forgiving on that one. The Killers “Mr. Brightside” began playing. Instantly I started to dance and sing along to the catchy song.
‘Jealousy, turning saints into the sea
Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibis
But it’s just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes’
“CAUSE I’M MISTER BRIGHTSIDE!” I shouted the last bit as I finished washing my body and face. I turned off the water, grabbing two fluffy towels to wrap around my shivering body and hair to dry off. As I stepped out, I glanced at the toothpaste I accidentally left out from yesterday. A genius idea for payback began to form in my brain. A wicked smile twisted my lips as I left the bathroom, grabbing my phone as I walked out. I sauntered across the hall to my room to change. Walking into my closet, I studied my clothes to pick the perfect outfit for today. Running my hands over them I chose one of my classic looks; black jeans with a plain white tee that read “Ask If I Care” in bold black writing, and my signature black leather jacket that fit like a warm in glove as I sling it on. One thing that everyone knows is that I’m rarely ever seen, if at all, without my leather jackets on. They’re an extension of myself.
I snatched my white and black Adidas high tops before emerging out of my closet. Wet towels in hand, I shot them into my already over flowing hamper, doing a mini victory dance as I made it. Grabbing my brush off my desk I walked back into the bathroom, beginning the process of combing and blow drying my long, dark blonde hair. As the last lock of my hair was brushed dry I turned off the blow dryer. I was just in time to hear an annoying voice shout from downstairs.
“Valencia! Hurry up and get downstairs, I want you out of this house and gone in ten minutes!” I scowled into the mirror at the sound of my mother’s voice. She always made sure I left the same time she left with Bellamy, as if I’d skip school if she didn’t physically see me leave to go there. I always thought that was stupid since I could just turn right back home, but I never pointed that out. I angrily began putting on mascara and black eyeliner, making my bright blue eyes pop. I brushed my teeth in record time, applying a layer of deodorant before going back to my room to grab my phone and school bag. Once I made sure I had all my things stuffed inside I marched out the hallway, and down the steps.
I crossed paths with Diana as we passed under the middle of the staircases that led to an archway to the living room and kitchen. She was wearing her usual attire of a plain black dress with a white collar and matching flats. Her brown hair was done up into a bun giving a clear view of her slightly chubby face, and warm brown eyes. She still had on her apron meaning she must’ve just got done making breakfast.
“Good morning miss,” Diana greeted kindly, her soft voice always one to calm me down.
“Please Diana, there’s no need with formalities around me, you know that. Call me Vic like everyone else,” I insisted smiling back.
“Yes I know, slips past me sometimes,” she waved her hand dismissively in the air as a bashful smile filled her face, “I know how much you hate formalities.” She gave me a knowing look. I nodded my head stiffly as my hand subconsciously began tightening into a fist. I hated acting like the ‘perfect’ child my mother deemed I had to be. Apparently when you’re wealthy you have to act like a total snob, and hold your wealth against everyone that isn’t up to your standards. My mother Eloise Cerise was the worst when it came to it. Since she was a famous talent agent, home designer, and once a model her head had swollen like a balloon. She only signed the most perfect of singers, only helped the wealthiest of people on their homes. And if you didn’t have model quality in your looks or cash you could just forget of having an actual conversation with her.
Any person who even remotely knows me knows for a fact that I’m not like this in the slightest. I wear cheaper, simpler clothes that I buy myself because my mother refuses to buy me anything but dresses and heels. I work at our local auto shop called “Pop’s”, a place my mother doesn’t even want to be seen near. Something about the filth that work there (I guess that means me to) and people driving those ‘rust buckets’ instead of a perfect car. I ride a Kawasaki Ninja 300, paid for completely on my own with money made from work. I’m not like those bimbos at school that just uses their daddy’s money to buy themselves fake boobs, the most expensive cars possible, and all the name brands their tiny minds could wish for. Unlike those girls’ fathers, mine raised me right.
“Vic?” Diana’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. Blinking a couple times I sent her a tight smile to mask the sudden pinch in my heart. I walked past her into the living room that was open to the kitchen. I spotted my plate full of my favorite delicacy on the counter top, and launched myself at them. I devoured the whole waffle sandwich that still had warm gooey peanut butter oozing out of the sides. A muffled moan escaped my lips as I closed my eyes, not noticing my brother sitting next to me on one of the stools. He was trying to contain his laughter, but a small giggle slipped past his lips. I stopped my intimate moment with my food, sending him a look.
“Sumfing fummy Bwue?” I asked, my mouthful of peanut butter making it come out all garbled.
“Oh nothing Vic,” Bellamy chirped, barely containing his smile.
“Take a picture it’ll last longer,” I grumbled shoving a strip of crispy bacon into the vacuum that is my mouth. In response he pulled out his phone he got for Christmas last year (don’t ask me why a nine year old needed a phone) and held it up to me.
“Say cheese!” I opened my mouth revealing gooey peanut butter mush and bacon, rolling my eyes back to make the picture even funnier for him. Giggling my brother snapped a couple pictures before going back and saving them to his collection of pictures of me. He’s shown me some before, and let me just say I am not photogenic. I smiled warmly at Bellamy while he was laughing his butt off. I always took comfort in the fact that I could make him laugh. Even though we pranked each other senselessly to the point of us wanting to kill the other, he was the only reason I stuck around here anymore. I had to make sure he grew into someone that didn’t always have a stick up their ass, and had fun that I knew he would never get to have if I wasn’t around.
“Honestly Valencia, why do you act so unladylike. Wipe your face, and go drive that death trap to school already,” my mother scolded, rolling her brown eyes as she made her grand appearance from her office where she practically lived. Today she was wearing a grey chiffon pantsuit with a 14K white gold necklace with bracelets to match. She lived to shove her wealth in her clients faces. Her brown hair was pulled into a tight bun, making her piercing stand out even more.
My brother and I didn’t look much like her, which I thanked whatever higher being was up above for that blessing. Bellamy was a spitting image of our father, from his bright blonde hair, loving blue eyes, to his wide grin that couldn’t help but make others smile along with him. I inherited his eyes and hair as well, though mine was darker. I’ve been told all my life though that I got my mothers natural beauty, cutting personality, and cold stare. Trust me when I say our stare downs were ones that belong in the books.
Rolling my eyes I pretended I didn’t hear her, eating the rest of my meal. I glanced down at my phone as I got a text from my friends and I's group chat.
Paizley: “Hey 1 of u hoes come and pick me up my car broke down again :(“
Clementine: “omg again? Seriously get urself a new car. BTW I can’t pick u up car is stock full of sports equipment and clothes”
Paizley: “Dam... Vic? Ur my last hope!”
Me: “I can give you a ride. Make sure you have your helmet.”
Paizley: “YES! Thank the higher beings for blessing me with u! See ya in 5 chica :p”
I chuckled quietly, wondering how I got stuck with such a weird friend. Guzzling my glass of orange juice, I picked up my school bag and headed towards the front door, Diana already waiting for me with my black motorcycle helmet in hand, sending me a kind smile as a goodbye. I saluted her as I opened the overly large front door that led out onto the porch.
“When will you be home from work tonight?” Diana called out. I made my way over to the shed my mother had me use as storage for my bike and other atrocities that weren’t allowed in the house.
“I have a feeling it’ll be late,” I answered, pulling up the door, revealing my gorgeous purple Kawasaki Ninja 300. I ran my hands delicately over my baby before I pushed Violet, and no it’s not weird that I named my bike, out into the sunlight so the world could see her in all her glory.
“I’ll save you a plate then.” I waved a last goodbye to Diana and Bellamy who was watching out the window before reving the engine, sighing contently as she purred to life. I pulled down my helmet and sped off down our driveway lined with gardens on either side before turning out onto our high class surburban circuit, already anticipating today to be awful and boring.
Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this first submission of “The Bad Girls Hypothesis”. Make sure to comment review and like!
Hi, we like your character very much, who has just enough good qualities to make her self-centred personality bearable. We particularly like the idea that she prefers cheap clothing, in contrast to her mother. This looks set to be an excellent tale. A few minor points: it's 'mother's natural beauty' with the possessive apostrophe, and just occasionally perhaps your sentences run on for too long. A varying length with some very short sentences to emphasise the critical points might serve your story better. You have a very good grasp of dialogue, both of thought and of the spoken word, and make an excellent job of avoiding those speech verbs. Some very good quality writing here. Good luck with the story.
Hey, I really liked the way you started this book. You really get the reader into the book. The main character is already very lovable because I can relate with her with her little brother and how she rebels against what she's told. She does what she believes is right in her own way but not to please anyone else but herself. Can't wait to read more.