Trailer Park Princess
Read Trailer Park Princess Online
Authors: Delia Steele,J. J. Williams
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction
Delia Steel
e
License Statement:
This book is a written act of fiction. Any places, character, or similarities are purely coincidence. If certain places or characters are referenced it is for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written consent except in the case of quotations and reviews.
Copyright © 2013 Delia Steele
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design: Stephanie White
Formatting by Fancypants Book Formatting
ISBN
:
1493565276
ISBN-13
:
978-1493565276
DEDICATION
This book is for every girl who has ever had that epic puppy love, only to be let down when reality set in and you found out he was a big ole douche nozzle. That guy whom you loved with every fiber of your heart, even if just for a short time and he went from hero to zero in 2.2 seconds. If you ever had a jealous jerk that you never really trusted or were picked on due to social status.
This book is for you girls who grew up taking care of kids that weren’t yours but pulled out that superwoman mojo and tore it up. The ones who stood up tall, handled the damn thing, and turned out being the best you that you could be. This book is for all the little girls who grew up in an ugly gray world, the ones that somehow came out on the other side smiling and still looking for rainbows! Because, when you stop searching for love, it will find you.
CONTENTS
My granny used to say, “No sense in complaining. No one cares, Rory.” I miss her so much, especially on days like today. Mom went off doing who knows what, with who only knows.
Thaxton is at a friend’s, where he tends to stay. I do not blame him. Then, there’s Toby, my lifeline. He, of course, is at football camp. And I, poor ole pity party Aurora Danyale Wilde, am stuck in my mansion, smack dab in the middle of the magical trailer park. My palace is beautiful. Slimer green rusted tin siding with a holey tin roof and cardboard covered windows—well, at least the ones not covered in tin foil. Hey, at least my sweet tea is the bomb! Do people even say “bomb” anymore? Oh heck, who knows? I sit on my upside-down five-gallon bucket staring out at my neighbor’s yard. Not sure which is worse: the fat blob passed out halfway up the steps, covered in puke(
I wonder if he is dead
?), or the old toilet that has graced the front lawn so long it has weeds and ant beds growing out the bowl! Hurry up three o’clock! I want my prince to come whisk me away and feed me yummy chocolate heaven in a cup.
I’d love to sit here and tell you my life is awesome and fabulous, but I wou
ld be lying, and I try not to do that. I’m only human, though, and sometimes it’s called for. Like when Carol doesn’t show up for days and Thaxton wants to know where his mother is. I could spit every time he calls her that. I know she is out drunk at some loser’s trailer a few lots over. She may have got lucky this time, and it’s a real trailer instead of the camper on blocks. This place is a joke. All the men here look like Jabba the Hutt, sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher, and smell as if they are from the eternal bog of stench! I do not see how she does it. Yuck! Of course, with her looking like a mowed over super whore on a bad day, I guess she is lucky they even look at her. The park’s not all bad, though. The old lady in lot B-2 is awesome. Every Saturday, she makes sure that we have breakfast. She claims she does not worry about us Monday through Friday because she knows we get that yummy free lunch in the school cafeteria.
I pretty much choke on my sucker when I hear Toby’s truck crunching down the gravel. I jump up from my bucket throne and grab my purse, throwing it across my shoulder as I jump off the porch in a full out run. He lays on the horn before he sees me because he never makes a full stop. I jump up, grabbing the
Oh Shit
bar and crash down face first on the passenger seat in a fit of giggles. It’s always a hard jump in his MAN truck. Toby is eighteen and refuses to drive a small truck, saying they are for boys, and he is a man. He is right! He is very mature to be a senior in high school, and he already has a five-year plan, which includes me. He never comes to a complete stop when he picks me up because he says if he stops, the place may suck him in, and he plans to get me out of here, not being stuck himself. He really is my knight on a white horse. In this case, the white horse is a brand new, red Chevy Z71 extended cab. It’s an early graduation gift from his parents, and he loves it. Not to mention deserves it. Captain of the football team, full scholarship to Louisiana State is expected, honor roll, and a good, church-going citizen of our town. He is the catch of Monroe Falls. I bet you’re wondering how I got so lucky. Or is it all in my head like a dream? It’s only fair to warn you now that Toby is not the only guy vying for the role of my knight in shining armor.
Picture this: you start in a dreamy haze …HA! Yeah, right! Unless you are on the same drugs as my mom, no way is this a dreamy haze kind of life. O
K, so seriously. We have always moved around a lot from town to town, park to park, wherever my mom could transplant us for a while in a pay-by-the-week dump. We moved here, to Monroe Falls, a month before school let out my tenth grade year, which should technically be my eleventh grade year.
Thanks again, Mom
. All the moving the last few years wreaked havoc on my attendance record, and no matter how good my grades were, it was not enough. Now, I am a year behind, yet I am still smarter than ninety percent of the graduating class. The end of the year is the worst time ever to start a new school. There’s plenty of time to be picked on, but not enough time to become part of the school or a clique. Then the next year comes around, and it’s like starting all over once again.
I walk in on my first day, and the halls are lined with prom posters and game schedules. (GO TIGERS!) Everyone is wearing blue and gold, ready for tonight’s basketball game. I pass a few people, nobody that I know, but, of course, they all stare. I am not much on the eyes. I’m a small framed girl, weighing maybe 107 pounds. I’m somewhat scrawny, really. I a
m right at five feet tall, fair-skinned, (could not get a tan to save my life), and I have weird, fiery red hair. My best feature, I think, is my overly huge, almond-shaped eyes that are the same color green as Yoda. They sparkle, and they are the palest green you will ever see. This always causes a scene. At least I know they are not looking at me because I’m plastic material. I walk with my head down, my wild, barely brushed hair hiding my freaking super nerd eyes. My worst feature would be the light spray of freckles over the bridge of my nose. I really hate those.
I hear the hustle of boys being boys, but not soon enough. Next thing I know, I am face down on the hall floor with my trig book open next to my head. And, of course, my newest
Star Wars
graphic novel is laying there with half the front cover ripped off. This alone is enough to send me into a girly tailspin of freaking out. I had to save for weeks to get that book, and now it’s ruined. I’ll have to hurry up and find a job so it can be replaced, like yesterday. I make an awful snivel and start picking myself up, along with my books, when a hand reaches to help me. I slap the hand away, wipe my tear-stained face and my snotty nose, and prepare to get out of here ASAP. Just like in the movies, my world stands still the second I look up and find his eyes. This warm, beautiful guy is trying to help me. His amazing, coffee colored eyes remind me of a Starbucks espresso, and his skin… ah, his skin…it’s like the sun lives there. He is beautiful. Yum yum, eat-him-up beautiful! I think I am in love! I may even be drooling at this point. As I get a grip on myself, I push up the rest of the way to standing.
“I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to slap at you," I say, barely above a whisper, all while trying to clean my face up. He just stands there smiling at me.
"I run you over and knock you down, yet you are apologizing to me?” His voice is like music for my soul. I think I may need it to survive from this moment on. He hands me back my graphic novel, letting his fingers graze mine, as we stand there staring at each other like two idiots.
"Hi, I’m Tobias West. You’re new here, right?” Not giving me time to answer, he continues, “Of course you are. I wouldn’t forget a face like yours. Welcome to Monroe Falls High.” He smiles and leans in close, "Be careful, beautiful. An animal as gentle as yourself will get ate alive in this tiger pride," he winks and turns from me. But, of course the nerd in me has to correct him.
"It's lion pride,” I say. He turns to me, looking confused. “Lions…they live in prides. Tigers are loners, but if grouped, they are called a streak or an ambush, not a pride." I lose my voice in the end, realizing he doesn’t really care. He winks with that smirk again and turns away. Seriously, I am crazy. By far, the hottest guy in school just spoke to me, and I corrected him with useless nerd facts.
Kill me please
!
I know who is behind me before I turn around because she’s the only person I know, thanks to us both being from the same row at the park… well, sort of.
“Dear glorious God of night Rory, were you seriously just like two inches from TOBY MOTHER EFFING WEST?” Amandolette pretty much screeches the whole sentence, drawing more unwanted attention.
"Who? Oh, that guy. Yeah, he knocked me down while horse playing and was just being nice." She is smiling like a wild hyena when she says, "Toby doesn’t just talk to people, Rory. Like, I mean, he is a nice guy, but he usually minds his own business. Unless you are in his circle, he doesn’t randomly talk to anyone.” Now she is jumping up and down with her big ole Mexican eyes bugged out of her head. She makes me sick, but in a good way.
Amandolette Riaz is everything I’m not. The only thing we have in common is our height, or lack thereof. However, she has a figure, like hips that dip and thighs that make guys cry. Her eyes are a perfect fit on her perfect head. She has skin and hair that are the same color chocolate, except the few purple streaks in it. She's a wild girl when it comes to fashion, always spor
ting a mix of new age with a ‘90s twist. Today, she is in black tights, layered with a ripped up blue jean skirt and an awesome pair of vintage purple Chuck Taylors. Her top is a tank top, but not the tight kind. It’s one of the ones that flare, and its splatter painted. She has huge hoops in her ears that are lime green and is seriously rocking a teased ponytail. I can’t help but giggle looking at her. She doesn’t follow fashion; it follows her. I know this because it’s the one thing she is proud of.
Amandolette’s not really from the park. Her gran refuses to move in with her parents (who hurt for nothing) and opts to stay independent. Therefore, Amandolette comes over a lot to check in on her. I think she would live here if her folks would let her. I find myself stopping by frequently, as well, and that’s how we met.
She was my saving grace when I moved here 3 weeks ago, and she’s my only friend. It was an instant friendship, and she’s been over every day since I met her. Since my mom wasn’t around, I skipped the first week I was supposed to be in school and got my humble abode live-in worthy. I cleaned, unpacked, and hung out with Amandolette in the afternoons. Eventually, I figured I better get the first day over with and start showing up if I wanted to pass this year. Absence is my problem not grades. I pull straight A’s. Always have. It’s my one achievement, and I am damn proud of it.
Even though my week off put me further behind than I would have liked, I’m glad for the time with Amandolette because at least there was one familiar face my first day. Another good thing about our instant friendship: Amandolette’s parents also own the local diner, which is where I plan to start working soon. Per Mando, they need an afternoon waitress, and per my bank account (an old pickle jar in the bottom of my closet), I need a job. Since I have connections, I’m pretty much guaranteed the job, which is a relief. Anything to make my life a little bit easier is a blessing.
A week has passed, and today’s my third day on the job. I have not seen Tobias, or Toby as the rest of the school calls him, since that first day. Trust me; I have looked. I guess he was a fluke, a blip on my radar. I busy myself filling drinks and grabbing condiments. I like the work; it’s a cool diner. Fashioned like an old-time soda shop, we even wear red and white outfits that have a poodle skirt feel to them. I hear the bell above the door ding and without looking, I blurt out, "Welcome to The Diner. Grab a booth, and I will be right with ya." As I make my way down the aisle, I take out my notepad. Looking up to be courteous, I lock gazes with those dripping chocolate eyes. The sensation is what I assume an LSD trip is like. I feel like I am skydiving, or more like freefalling towards rainbows and sparkles. All the while, a black and white maze spins behind me like a jacked-up version of the yellow brick road. I am just standing there staring like a freak of nature. “Hi, Yoda," he croons, while melting my panties without even knowing it. After a forever-long pause, I find my voice. “Hi, Tobias, what can I get for ya?" I turn my head, noticing the guy in the other seat. “And you?” I ask. “Know what’cha want yet or are y’all gonna need a minute?” I barely finish my sentence before Tobias says, “Give me a number one with a strawberry shake." I write it down along with the other guy’s order. “Give me just a minute,” I say, “and I will be right back with your shakes." I turn to walk off, giving him that extra shake of my own, hoping he notices.
While I am getting his milkshake, I hear the other guy say, “Dude, seriously, do not be slumming with that chick. She's a park whore. I have seen her around there a few times, and even with an ass like that, she is not worth pissing your folks off over.” Then they laugh. I figure Tobias agreed with him. I mean, I know I don’t have a chance in hell, but a girl can still dream. When I return with their plates, Toby asks for a bottle of ketchup, and I wonder if it’s just an excuse to get me back over there again. Probably not. Nothing else really happens. I allow myself to look over once to check their waters, which are still untouched, and decide to clean the counters until they leave to occupy myself. Then, I can finish my nightly clean up. When they finish eating, the guy with Toby walks out first, and a few seconds later, so does Toby. I make my way over to clear the table. I pick up the ticket and the twenty bucks they left, and give them to Nancy at the counter because I have not learned the register yet. Upon returning to the table, I notice a folded piece of paper sticking out from under Toby’s plate. At the same time I pick it up, headlights flip on outside the diner window, blinding me. I shield my eyes and look up, squinting. Stupid huge Chevy, ugh. Turning my back slightly so I can see the paper without a glare, I open it.
Go out with me Saturday? I will be here to pick you up at 2. –T
I look up, and outside the window, pulling out slowly, Toby is watching me with that sideways panty-dropping smile he always has. I cannot do anything but stand there and catch flies, my body malfunctioning.
Close mouth now, Rory
, I tell myself. Finally, I regain control of my body and sprint to the back to check the schedule. Fist pumping like a wild Jersey girl, going into a full on lightsaber swing and stance, I cannot help but get excited. I HAVE SATURDAY OFF! The rest of the night is a blur. Two days ‘til Saturday. Will I go? Should I go? Of course, I will. If my crazy dancing is any indication, there was never a chance I would turn him down.