By the time my mother wakes up from her Xanax and red wine coma, and my dad leaves the bed of whatever woman he goes home with from the party, Christmas will be over, and I will have already opened up the same present I’ve gotten from them every year, all by myself, just like every year—a coffee-mug-stained envelope filled with cash left on the kitchen counter. This is my future. Cold and empty Christmases, attending parties with people I can’t stand, waking up alone, without anyone who really cares about me. My life will be filled with kissing asses, taking bribes, covering up bad shit my clients do, chipping away at pieces of my soul until I’m a narcissistic asshole just like my father, or a drunk with a pill problem just like my mother.
What the hell am I even doing? Is this really who I want to be?
“Looks like Santa just delivered my present.” Trent’s voice interrupts my pity party as he nudges my arm and then grabs his crotch. “Hey, Millie, I’ve got a package for you to open that will be very satisfying.”
Millie Chamberlin, whose father is one of Hollywood’s favorite leading men and mother is one of the highest paid and most well-known supermodels, and who is four years younger than us and attended the same prep school we all did, pauses next to our small group and looks Trent up and down. Bringing a straw up to her mouth from a McDonald’s cup she’s holding in one hand, she takes a loud, slurping sip, making me chuckle for the first time in months. Only Millie Chamberlin could walk into one of the fanciest Hollywood parties of the year, wearing a sparkly gown that costs more than most people make in a year, with her elbow bent and wrist cocked, holding a paper bag of fast food daintily in her fingers like she’s holding an expensive Birkin bag, while sipping from a fast food cup like it’s a glass of Dom Perignon.
“You couldn’t satisfy me if Dr. Ruth was in the bedroom with us coaching you along every step of the way. What are you even wearing?”
I chuckle again as Millie looks at Trent’s tuxedo with disgust like he’s standing here wearing dirty rags he pulled out of the trash.
“It’s Armani.” Trent scoffs, soundings less confident than a few minutes ago as he adjusts his tie.
“You look homeless,” Millie mutters, taking another loud slurp of her drink. “Go away.”
Turning to face me, a bright smile lights up Millie’s face as she leans in and air kisses both of my cheeks before pulling back.
“Bodhi Armbruster, the only bright light in a sea of douchebags,” she greets me.
“Heeey,” Trent and Brandon both complain at the same time.
“Oh my God, why are you still here?” Millie asks my friends with a roll of her eyes, waving her cup in their direction. “Run along now. The adults need to speak.”
I have to bite down on my bottom lip so I don’t laugh out loud when Brandon and Trent immediately scurry away with their sexual harassment tails tucked between their legs. They’re too afraid to piss Millie off and land themselves on a Hollywood blacklist, never to be invited to another party again. Born with the same silver spoon in her mouth as the rest of us, Millie—more than most—literally has no idea there are people out there who don’t have so much money it’s nauseating. She’s not an outright asshole like my friends. She’s just… Millie. But she knows who she is and makes no apologies for it, even at eighteen years old. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her; she just lives her life and does what makes her happy, no matter how insane it is. And her parents support her as long as she’s content. That’s what’s most mind-boggling of all. There isn’t one person in my life who would support me if I decided not to go to law school.
“What’s with the McDonald’s?” I ask Millie, nodding in the direction of the bag she’s still holding like an expensive purse as I reach up and loosen my tie, suddenly feeling like I’m having a hard time breathing.
“I made a new friend!” Millie gushes with a big smile. “I found the twins’ older sister hiding in a guest bathroom upstairs. She’s a sad, pale little thing with no fashion sense who hates people, but I’m sure she’ll warm up to me in no time, especially since I procured her some nuggs.”
“The twins have an older sister?” I ask in shock, forgetting about my breathing trouble for a minute. Everyone knows who Tori and Zoey Parker are, seeing as they’ve had the number one YouTube channel since the day they posted their first video. It’s pretty crazy that I never even knew there was another sister in the Parker family.