Page 11 of The Favorite Girl

You know that part in all the chick flicks where some catchy song starts playing and the girl comes down the long staircase and everyone gasps at how she went from abnormally unattractive to breathtakingly beautiful?

I honestly laughed at those moments, until now. Now I was living it. All I was missing was a jock at the end of the stairs and a dad gushing with his camera—and maybe the theme song from She’s All That.

After spending the morning getting a HydraFacial, my entire face waxed, a manicure, pedicure, and even a blow out, I wasn’t the same Demi from a few hours ago.

Talk about a confidence boost as I walked down the stairs in Raina’s stunning, white two-piece Dolce and Gabana blazer and pants, feeling worthy of her clothes. Raina was waiting at the end of the stairs with Jax, her hands on her cheeks as she stood excitedly with the proudest smile I’d ever seen in my life.

Kai was a lucky kid. I’m sure she’d be the mom who threw him a party over a participation award.

Feeling slightly awkward, I averted my eyes, and so did Jax. “Demi! You look like a goddess.” Raina tugged my hand and spun me around. “Jax, doesn’t she look gorgeous?” she squealed.

“Mm-hmm… you look nice, Demi.” I could tell he was uncomfortable with how he cleared his throat mid-sentence.

Looking down at my bare feet, I turned them in and whispered, “Thank you.”

“Well, let’s find you some shoes. We don’t want you to be late.” Raina tugged me toward a long hallway lined with vibrant and colorful photographs of their family.

“Here, I had Jax pick these up for you.” She handed me a box as we entered the mudroom.

Curiously sliding the top off, I squinted at the contents. They were solid white shoes with thick-padded bottoms. Almost like the shoes Jax wore.

“Um… thanks?” I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, but here I was, feeling bad bitch vibes and staring down at shoes that belonged to retirement home Bertha.

“I know, I know; they aren’t cute. Listen, Demi, I wish I had a job I could offer you with the whole live-in aspect, but I don’t. The Ivory family is a great opportunity for you, but they are very… particular people, and…” Raina paused and looked up at the oversized wall clock. “You’ve got to get going. Put these on and just answer their questions in short sentences. Don’t give too much background, and don’t tell them we met you. They are ridiculously private people, and that may hurt your chances. Good luck.”

I had no idea how to even interpret everything she just said, but begrudgingly, I tugged the shoes on and thanked Raina as she waved me outside through the garage. Once on her driveway, she shielded her eyes with her hand and pointed with the other.

“The house on the secluded hill at the opposite end of the neighborhood; the all-white one. That’s the Ivory house. Just hit the buzzer and they’ll let you in. Good luck, honey. Swing on back when you’re done; I want to hear how it went.”

“I don’t want to keep taking up your time.” I squinted at Raina with the sun directly above us.

“No, it’s okay. I took the day off, and honestly, if you get the job, I’ll know you have a safe place to live and if you don’t… Well, we can help you find a temporary place.” She rolled her lips together and smiled. “Now get going, Dr. Ivory is extremely punctual.” She nodded at me.

Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, I began to walk down the smoothly paved driveway, making my way down the sidewalk that ran by the exceptionally manicured lawns.

Vibrant flowers, bright green grass, and stucco homes all neatly lined the street. It made me laugh that many had gates in front of their homes when the neighborhood was already gated. Talk about being paranoid. But then again, I suppose I’d be paranoid too, if I lived in an enormous mansion amongst diamonds and gold, and never had been tied up in a disgusting crack house. It’s ironic that the most guarded people are the most terrified. They are the most terrified because they have the most to lose.

Looking down at my shoes, I realized they didn’t make any noise against the concrete. It was as if I was walking on air.

Rich people things. My nerves were completely shot, and I was thankful Raina insisted that I pin my thick black hair up into a neat bun or else it would have been sticking to the back of my neck where sweat began to build.

It wasn’t even as hot of a day. Fall was officially trickling in, and the trees were beginning to shift with splashes of rich reds and warm shades of yellow. There was a trickle of crisp, cooler air lingering, teasing the otherwise sticky humidity.

The sun shimmered through the canopy of trees that lined the street. I couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like living with this kind of wealth and prestige?

How it must be to go to sleep in a plush bed, knowing you’ll never have to worry about food or water. You’ll never have to run and hide. You’ll never be taken—or sold or beaten.

You just get to exist and be happy. You don’t have to fight for the life you were forced into.

And if you’re not happy, well, you have the wealth to do whatever it takes to find it.

I arrived in front of the massive gate that was wrapped around the largest home on the street—one that left my mouth parted in actual bewilderment. It was like the White House. Literally. The gate was white, and the house was an all-white stucco. The yard was in immaculate condition, with vivid green grass and blooming white flowers.

Peeling my eyes off the mansion in front of me, I looked down at my outfit. This was weird, right? I mean, this family had a serious fetish with the color white.

“Welcome to the Ivory House,” a voice called out, startling me, and I quickly glanced around with my heart pounding.

“Miss, are you here by appointment?” the voice echoed.

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