Chapter One:
When I was younger, I always took the safety my father provided for granted. Now, I know it was out of love and nota successful way of making my life miserable. When I think back to my teenage years of acting like a spoiled brat, I wish that I could go back in time and change it all.
For as long as I could remember, I'd been known as Robert Beaufort's daughter. Most people didn't even call me by my name but as Mr. Beaufort's Daughter. He was the best lawyer in San Fransisco, and he'd been a lawyer for twenty years. He was best known for seeking justice in sexual abuse and assult cases.
My father cared so much about work over his own family, my mother left him, and she took my twin brother with her when we were but a month old. Michelle Butler was my mother, who I have no memory of since she had never cared to visit me. Actually, I don't know if she cared or not, but what I do know is that my brother Greg doesn't know about me.
Since there were many people who hated my father for his acts of justice, he figured it was best he use his power in authority to keep me as safe as possible. But because of this, I was miserable, and everyone, with the exception of my father, knew it. I never complained to him about it, though.
In order to keep me safe, in his opinion, he enrolled me in a private, Christian school called Christian Academy, always made sure I had a retired police officer as a nanny, placed me in a house that had an iron bare gate you could only get through if your name was on the list. Then there was the list itself. I hated that thing with a passion.
I often questioned why, of all people, I had to be Kylee Beaufort. Sure, my father gave me everything he thought I wanted materialistic, but actually all I wanted was to be free to just be Kylee. I was once again thinking of it when the sound of someone playing a trumpet blared in through the open, balcony doors.
I looked up from the World History book I'd only been pretending to read with a sigh. Everyday I had to sit in my room and listen the boy next door play the National Anthem. It was his solo in band.
"Ruth," I asked my nanny for the time being. "Will you please close those door so I can study for the test tomorrow?"
"No, I cannot," she answered shortly.
What did she just say to me? Did she just argue with me? None of my nannies from the past had ever denied my wishes, and I wasn't about to let it start now.
"What did you say?" I asked her in surprise that I had just been told no by someone who should be wrapped around my pinky by now.
"You heard me, Miss Kylee. You have a test over that chapter tomorrow, and have yet to turn a page in a good ten minutes."
Oh, no, I thought to myself. Here comes another lecture when she continued, "This is you last year at Christian Academy so you have to do well in order to get into Harvard before anyone else in your class has the chance."
My next thought: Who needs a mother when you can have I-know-it-all Ruth. I didn't plan on going to Harvard like my father wished, but I wasn't going to tell her that, for she would start lecturing me even more. I didn't find pleasure in her ten minute lectures about how I need to make my father proud to call me his daughter.
I didn't care about my competition with the other students in my school or grade. They were all bunch of snobby rich kids, who I had nothing in common with.
One of those kids was next door playing his heart out, and he was giving me a headache so I ordered, "Ruth, close those doors."
"Do it yourself."
What did she just say?
"Close those doors," I ordered yet another time, and all I got was a no.
I slammed the three inch book closed out of anger, but it didn't move her, no instead, she said, "Don't make me tell your father."
"Go ahead, I don't care."
"He will be very angry."
"And your point is?"
"He might lock you up in here until you study."
Okay, it was time for paybacks. No nanny of mine was going to get away with back talking me. It was time for the old truth that always gave me a few minutes to myself.
"Ruth, did you start menopause this morning?" I asked her with a perfect, white smile.
"Kylee, you speak of foolish things."
"You did, didn't you?"
She crossed her arms under her breasts with a grunt, and marched out of my room, making me smile even more. That trick never got old. That had really gotten to her as it did every other nanny I'd ever had, and I'd always had one for as long as I could remember. I was finally going to get some time to myself. She had been my nanny for three months and it was time to use that one on her.
I left the comfort of my desk to walk out onto the balcony. I looked past the brick wall that surrounded the house to keep me in and intruders out to find Ben Ahearn standing on his roof. He was standing so close to the edge it looked as if he were about to plunge head first into the ground. I was just glad he wasn't facing my direction.
I waited for him to pause to yell his name in hope of getting his attention. Luckly, he slowly, lowered his annoying musical instrument from his lips to hold it against his chest. I could only guess he was surprised by my greeting, for I had only spoken to him once. I had told him he had mustard on his face.
"Kylee, what's up?" he called out to me.
I hated to admit it, but he was very attractive with his curly dark hair, dark eyes, dark complextion, and a perfect smile that glistened against his tan. He was about six' one and slender. It seemed to me that every girl in school wanted to date him. Ben was one of those guys that everyone liked. I often heard girls talking about him, saying one look and he had your heart.
"Can you do me a small favor?" I called back to him in the sweetest voice I could make.
"Sure, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"Can you stop playing?"
"Am I annoying you?"
I was about to lie.
"No, I am jsut trying to study for a test."
"What are you studying?"
Okay, now he was annoying me twice as much. All I did was ask him to quit playing, and now he wanted to have a conversation. Just peachy.
"History," I told him.
"You need any help?"
Not from you, I wanted to yell to him and slam the balcony doors, but I didn't want to risk the chance of him playing again. Instead, I said, "I'm best in the class, remember."
"Oh yeah, well if you need any help with anything, I mean anything at all, let me know. I'll be happy to help."
Okay, whatever.
I turned to go back to my book when he started playing again, and whirled around to face him. He was now facing my balcony and was playing even louder than before. What the heck was he trying to do?
"What a jerk," I yelled as I slammed the bullet proof, glass doors that kept most of the noise out. Unfortunately, it didn't keep out all of the noise.
It was time for a Plan B. I took my CD player into the batheroom with me only to turn the volume up sky high. I then made sure the door was locked so that Ruth couldn't come in and complain before I stepped into the shower.
I hadn't won, but at least this way I couldn't hear Ben and his stupid trumpet.
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