All of her life Astrid Dewar had grown up hearing constantly how her actions reflected back on her parents, in particular her mother. Being the adopted child
of celebrities wasn't too common back in era Astrid was born so there was already stigma on her from her birth. Of course her biological mom had been sort
of involved in the process though she had no idea what had happened with her biological father. Heck, maybe her mother had lied when she said she wasn't
sure who the father was. In her young mind of course Astrid had secret delusions that Henri, her adoptive dad, was in fact her real father and the girl was his
mistress. Oh what a Hollywood scandal that would have been. Even pretty much grown up she was constantly feeling the need to look over her shoulder and make
sure she wasn't being photographed doing anything that could get her in trouble. Of course when she used to travel with her mom it was a lot easier to get
away with stuff. Phoenix might not be the heart of Hollywood but even she and her mother had been photographed while eating lunch out once.
With Veronica out of town, Astrid could rest a little easier when she went out and about. She couldn't wait until she turned sixteen so she could get her driver's license and ditch her drivers. Now that would be sweet freedom. But it was only August which meant there were three more months of being chauffeured around. Some of the girls at school had gone absolutely nuts on her when she complained about having a personal driver. It was probably a good thing she and her mom had different last names so unless the other Phoenix High students were regular readers of the tabloids they'd not have ever caught on she was the daughter of a celebrity. Astrid could appreciate the perks but not at the expense of getting to enjoy what she considered to be as close to normal as she was ever going to get.
Just another sunny Sunday afternoon in the big little city of Phoenix, California. Astrid slipped out of the charcoal gray Mercedes and waved at Simon her driver today. He knew the routine, drop her off and he could pretty much roam the general area until she called for a pick-up. Though she tried not to play favorites, Simon was her favorite driver. Mostly because he didn't rat her out to her mother when she sought other transportation. The "drag" as some of the Phoenix students called 11th Avenue was one of her favorite places to hang out. Not only were there rows of cheap strip malls, fast food restaurants and chain department stores but it was pretty much the main street in town. That meant any time you were there you were bound to run into someone from school. There were likely students who didn't want that but Astrid was actually quite happy to meet new people even if they were just high school kids like herself. Well, there was no one like herself, in her opinion, but she saw no problem with knowing everyone.
Shoving her cell phone down into the little basket-like purse she carried she trotted along the front of the strip mall just before the intersection of 11th and Grant Street. She was supposed to be meeting Tori, one of her friends, at the little Greek place at the end of the strip. Dressed in an ivory camisole top and camouflage print dress pants she was trying just a little too hard at making the fashionable casual. Growing up living out of Louis Vuitton luggage did those kind of things to a girl. Astrid tried not to make a big deal about growing up at the height of affluence, it just happened. She wanted to be the kind of normal she thought was reality, the kind of normal that doesn't exist. But she was still young enough to not know any better yet. The closest thing to the normal she aspired for would have really scared her.
Reaching the Greek place she pushed the door open, a heavy blanket of frigid air-conditioning and the smell of food rolled over her as the bells hanging from the handle tinkled together unhappily. It was already two in the afternoon so the lunch crowd was gone and the cheap formica tables were all clean and empty. No sign of Tori. Frowning at the young woman who came from the kitchen to wait at the cash register, Astrid made her way over. A big blue and white letter board had a list of their menu and specials. "I'll just have a diet Coke," she said, reaching into her basket bag again and pulling out a sleek leather wallet. The girl across the counter took her money and went to fill up a translucent, red plastic cup. From the stereo propped on the counter by the soda fountain a local radio station played "Oye Como Va", which sounded terribly out of place in the Greek eatery.
After thanking the older girl she took her cup and paper wrapped straw to sit by the big glass windows where she could wait for her friend. She could have kept track of the time with her cell phone but estimated it by the number of songs that changed through on the radio. Of course then there was a break in which the announcer stated it was twenty-two minutes after two. A few people had filtered into the little shop either taking their orders to go or filling one of the other tables nearby. By the time the advertisement break was finished Astrid had almost finished her Coke. Fashionably late was one thing, just plain late-late was rude. Especially when all Tori had to do was call her. Sighing she fussed with her hair for a moment and re-applied her lip gloss before at last her cell phone rang out the first notes of The Killers' "Mr. Brightside". But when she answered it was her friend Tiffany calling to tell her Tori had not only been grounded but her parents had taken her cell phone because Tori had been out past their curfew. After a brief and catty discussion of what Tori had probably been doing out past eleven on a Friday night the two said buh-bye. Tossing her phone into the bag as she got to her feet, Astrid, in her annoyance at being stood-up by her friend- grounded or not, knocked her cup over. Chunks of ice and a quarter glass of diet Coke spilled over the tabletop, a little splashing on her ivory top, more of it hitting the floor and splashing onto the leg of the person sitting in the table behind her.
With Veronica out of town, Astrid could rest a little easier when she went out and about. She couldn't wait until she turned sixteen so she could get her driver's license and ditch her drivers. Now that would be sweet freedom. But it was only August which meant there were three more months of being chauffeured around. Some of the girls at school had gone absolutely nuts on her when she complained about having a personal driver. It was probably a good thing she and her mom had different last names so unless the other Phoenix High students were regular readers of the tabloids they'd not have ever caught on she was the daughter of a celebrity. Astrid could appreciate the perks but not at the expense of getting to enjoy what she considered to be as close to normal as she was ever going to get.
Just another sunny Sunday afternoon in the big little city of Phoenix, California. Astrid slipped out of the charcoal gray Mercedes and waved at Simon her driver today. He knew the routine, drop her off and he could pretty much roam the general area until she called for a pick-up. Though she tried not to play favorites, Simon was her favorite driver. Mostly because he didn't rat her out to her mother when she sought other transportation. The "drag" as some of the Phoenix students called 11th Avenue was one of her favorite places to hang out. Not only were there rows of cheap strip malls, fast food restaurants and chain department stores but it was pretty much the main street in town. That meant any time you were there you were bound to run into someone from school. There were likely students who didn't want that but Astrid was actually quite happy to meet new people even if they were just high school kids like herself. Well, there was no one like herself, in her opinion, but she saw no problem with knowing everyone.
Shoving her cell phone down into the little basket-like purse she carried she trotted along the front of the strip mall just before the intersection of 11th and Grant Street. She was supposed to be meeting Tori, one of her friends, at the little Greek place at the end of the strip. Dressed in an ivory camisole top and camouflage print dress pants she was trying just a little too hard at making the fashionable casual. Growing up living out of Louis Vuitton luggage did those kind of things to a girl. Astrid tried not to make a big deal about growing up at the height of affluence, it just happened. She wanted to be the kind of normal she thought was reality, the kind of normal that doesn't exist. But she was still young enough to not know any better yet. The closest thing to the normal she aspired for would have really scared her.
Reaching the Greek place she pushed the door open, a heavy blanket of frigid air-conditioning and the smell of food rolled over her as the bells hanging from the handle tinkled together unhappily. It was already two in the afternoon so the lunch crowd was gone and the cheap formica tables were all clean and empty. No sign of Tori. Frowning at the young woman who came from the kitchen to wait at the cash register, Astrid made her way over. A big blue and white letter board had a list of their menu and specials. "I'll just have a diet Coke," she said, reaching into her basket bag again and pulling out a sleek leather wallet. The girl across the counter took her money and went to fill up a translucent, red plastic cup. From the stereo propped on the counter by the soda fountain a local radio station played "Oye Como Va", which sounded terribly out of place in the Greek eatery.
After thanking the older girl she took her cup and paper wrapped straw to sit by the big glass windows where she could wait for her friend. She could have kept track of the time with her cell phone but estimated it by the number of songs that changed through on the radio. Of course then there was a break in which the announcer stated it was twenty-two minutes after two. A few people had filtered into the little shop either taking their orders to go or filling one of the other tables nearby. By the time the advertisement break was finished Astrid had almost finished her Coke. Fashionably late was one thing, just plain late-late was rude. Especially when all Tori had to do was call her. Sighing she fussed with her hair for a moment and re-applied her lip gloss before at last her cell phone rang out the first notes of The Killers' "Mr. Brightside". But when she answered it was her friend Tiffany calling to tell her Tori had not only been grounded but her parents had taken her cell phone because Tori had been out past their curfew. After a brief and catty discussion of what Tori had probably been doing out past eleven on a Friday night the two said buh-bye. Tossing her phone into the bag as she got to her feet, Astrid, in her annoyance at being stood-up by her friend- grounded or not, knocked her cup over. Chunks of ice and a quarter glass of diet Coke spilled over the tabletop, a little splashing on her ivory top, more of it hitting the floor and splashing onto the leg of the person sitting in the table behind her.
