So there’s ordinary rich, and then there’s rich, rich. Unfortunately, I was just ordinary rich – or I guess you could say fortunately – if you’re poor. Anyway, my mom and dad were corporate lawyers and I lived with them and my older sister Cindy who was more gorgeous than the most attractive model you can think of.

“Aubree, don’t worry. It’s because you’re still growing. You’re only fifteen and I’m seventeen. I’m sure that by the time you reach my age you’ll be a total hottie too!” she’d try to convince me from time to time.

But if you looked at both of us you’d be convinced that one of us was adopted because we looked nothing alike. I was just plain and boring looking. No one ever even gave me a second look. But with Cindy? They’d stop and stare. Some would even want to take pictures with her.

I went to this super expensive school and even though my parents were rich, they still struggled to pay the fees. But my classmates? Remember what I said about ‘ordinary rich’ and ‘rich, rich’? They were loaded – the kids of multimillionaires and billionaires. By the time most of them had their licenses they’d drive to school in the most expensive cars imaginable and sometimes if they got into little accidents they wouldn’t mind. They’d just ask their parents to buy them a new car – even if it was just a scratch.

No one paid much attention to me at that school. I had one friend named Regina and we’d eat lunch together sometimes but I spent most of my time in the library writing stories. I lived in my own little world and I loved bringing it to life on paper. I had notebooks and notebooks filled with stories that I was hoping to publish someday. My parents wanted me to inherit their law firm but I just wanted to be a writer.

The beautiful girls in my class used to tease me about it all the time.

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