That Boy is Trouble Chapter 2 - I Hate You
Melissa Hart does NOT get along with rich kid and golden boy Brad McKellan... so what happens when she gets a job as his maid? A cliched story commissioned for a dreamy girl who digs that kinda thing. Warning for mild swearing and steamy scenes.
Chapter 2 I Hate You
I sighed heavily, plopping down onto my bed butt first, looking up at the roof blankly. School was tiring, not because of the classes but the people. The guys that hung around McKellan thought I was an uptight bitch and it showed. The rest of the school was too scared of them to say anything.
Homework could wait. Right now I needed a junk food fix.
The kitchen wasn't empty as I had hoped. And it was decidedly lacking in mars bars.
My mum sat at the table with today's paper, not looking up as I passed her for the door.
"Sit down, Melissa."
Arg. I huffed my way to a chair next to her.
"Whaaaat?!"
She glared at me, and I shrunk back guiltily into my seat. Mum clearly meant business. As always. I wondered what I'd done now and hoped she hadn't found out about that time I stole my brothers PSP for a month. Where was Dad when I needed him?
"You know I think it's about time you found a job," she said sternly.
"Mum I'm only in high schoo-"
"Shush. What I'm saying is, I've found you a job."
"Wait... what kind of job?" My mum could be slightly eccentric and I hoped I wouldn't end up in some magic store teaching kids how to make flowers come out of a trick wand.
"It's a brilliant opportunity actually, but it's hard work. You're expected to be at the McKellans' every weekday afternoon and live in during the weekends and holidays."
That sure wasn't what I was expecting. The McKellans had been family friends for a long time. Before my mum had been semi-crippled in the accident she'd worked their as a housekeeper in their mansion-like estate. I wasn't kidding when I said this guy was filthy rich. They had about three maids and two groundskeepers for the house, and they'd have to be pretty busy with what looked like the freakin White House. Sometimes I can't believe people still live like that.
"You didn't even ask me about this, mum?" I was angry. I didn't mind work but for that guy?! Even if he wasn't my boss I know he'd find out and make my life a living hell.
My mum's face softened.
"Honey, you know what it's like at the moment. When's the last time you saw your father?"
I fidgeted in my seat, guilty. "About two months ago..."
Dad had accepted a transfer overseas after mum had lost her job. The loss of her income had hit us hard and the job paid much better than one nearby. Catch is, he only came home every three months or so. Less when money was tight. It always was of course.
Sounds like your typical sob story, but I wasn't Cinderella. There were plenty of other kids at school who were worse off and we were doing pretty well.
"He's working hard. But we're still struggling for rent." She touched my hand.
"You know it hurts me to ask you for this. As your mother... I should be able to support you."
Guilt hung in the air. I avoided meeting her eyes, not wanting to see the hurt there.
Mum still worked, sewing up people's old clothes, something she worked tirelessly at all day. Sometimes I'd find her up at three , still seeing little buttons into some kids shirt. That's life, she always said. I knew it hurt her that she couldn't provide for us like she used to.
Sometimes I wished we lived in America, Australia, England. In the Philippines Mum didn't really qualify for welfare, and I knew she wouldn't accept it if she did.
"I'll do it."
I'll do it, but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.
