chapter2!

“I can’t believe that you’re actually going.” That was my boyfriend Alex. I think that was the millionth time that he’s said that since I first called and told him that my dad finally agreed to let me go on the show.

I was right about my dad. He actually came up to my room a half hour after I ran out of dinner. He sat at the end of my bed and we had a long discussion about it. Then he told me that he had already called back the producers and they faxed all of the paperwork that he had to sign. So everything was all set. Alex was the only person that I called. I thought he would be happy for me, I guess he’ll just have to get used to it.

Alex and I were sitting in my room. He was lying on my bed and I was sitting Indian style on the floor playing with my English bulldog, Henry. We hadn’t even talked since he arrived there fifteen minutes earlier.

My dad was in his office working like the business man that he is. He didn’t know that Alex was in the house, let alone my room. He would flip.

It was a good thing that I had Henry with me, so I wouldn’t have to look at Alex. I knew he was hurt.

“I know that you wanted to spend this summer together since you’ll be going to NYU, but…”

“I’m not going to NYU,” he interrupted. He sat up and looked me in the eye. “I’m going to Stanford.”

He never told me he got into Stanford. “You never told me you got into Stanford.” Stanford was in California. I could handle New York. At least it was on the same coast. I was going to join him there next year when I graduate. But California?

“I wanted to tell you. I did.”

I stared at my furry green carpet as I continued to pet Henry. I couldn’t look at Alex. If I did, I knew I would cry. I didn’t say anything to him. I couldn’t trust my voice.

“I didn’t decide until about a week ago. I wanted to wait to tell you though. I didn’t want you to be worrying about me going to California this summer. I wanted it to be fun. I know how much you wanted to do this show thing and how hard you worked on your video, but Desi, I really didn’t think that you would’ve been picked. I’m sorry.”

“Can you leave please?”

“Desi, I’m sor…”

“Just leave,” I yelled. I really needed to be alone.

MY BOYFRIEND IS A COMPLETE LYING ******* SON OF ***** IGNORANT INCONSIDERATE STUPID MOTHER ****ER.

That was the subject of my entry in my LiveJournal that I just posted.

I close my laptop and place it on the nightstand beside my bed, then lay down on the pile of pillows behind me. I’m really pissed at him. I know that in the three years that we have been together, I could never stay mad at him for long, especially when I’m staring at the poster size picture of him on my ceiling above me bed.

I can close my eyes and still he that picture perfectly. It’s imprinted in my brain. He has beautiful eyes. Honey brown with speckles of green around the edges. I’ve never seen anything like them before. They make my eyes look plain and dull. In the picture, his hair is cut short, almost shaved it looks really dark. It’s longer now, about an inch and it’s lighter. I don’t like it. He looks a lot sexier and edgier with it short and with his scratchy beard that he had going until he shaved it. What an ***. He’s still cute though. He’ll always be. I like the way our skin looks next to each other. We almost match, except I’m a little darker. He’s white and Creole. I’m black and Brazilian. We look good together, me match in everyway. He’s perfect. He’s sexy, he’s smart, he’s loving, he’s…he’s…he’s making it impossible to stay mad at him.

And he isn’t the only man in my life that is on my **** list. My dad is number two. Hehe. He’s number two on my **** list. Get it? Anyway, about fifteen minutes after Alex left, my dad came to talk to me. Talk about good timing. Okay, back on the subject again, he told me that I have to come up with my money to use on the trip and that he already talked to my mother and she isn’t allowed to give any either. Since when did they talk?

So you know that that means? I have to get a job. I have tree months to get some spending money for this thing and I also have to buy all my clothes too. I’m not gonna hang out with a rock star in Adidas track pants and Old Navy t-shirts. No way. I gotta look good. I gotta fit in.

That means that now I have to find time in between school with all the homework and finals coming up, cheerleading, Henry, Alex, student council, my friends, finding two prom dresses, and going to graduation parties to find a job. And I have less than three months. That really sucks. BIG TIME.