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“I'll think about it.”
“Don't think about it too long,” Mom said. “The clock is ticking.”
Geez, thanks Mom. Like I needed any more pressure right now.
She was right though; the clock was ticking. If I closed my eyes and strained my ears, I could almost hear the faint tick-tock, echoing like a whisper in the back of my mind.
Time was running short. Very, very short. If I wanted to save my father's company and keep it out of the hands of somebody like Adam, I had to get on the ball. Sooner, rather than later.
CHAPTER SIX
CASEY
Living in Los Angeles is something people all over the world dream about; the beaches, the glitz, the glamour, the lifestyle. All these things were all a lie though.
Sure, some people got to live in Beverly Hills or Bel-Air – well away from the true reality of day to day life in the City of Angels. The wealthy elite got to enjoy their brunches and shopping trips on Rodeo Drive.
Others, like my family though, were scraping and clawing to survive. Given the chance, I would have left town in a heartbeat. But, being born and raised in Southern California – and with my family stuck here – it made the idea of packing up and getting out incredibly hard.
Impossible, actually.
For the present, and the foreseeable future, I was stuck in a small, cramped, shitty two-bedroom apartment in Echo Park. It wasn't exactly the glamorous part of Los Angeles. It definitely wasn't the idealized image of LA people have in their minds. There's no glitz or glam to be found in Echo Park.
But then, not even Hollywood was really what tourists expected it to be. Tinsel Town was dirty, filled with broken dreams, and the wreckage of ruined lives. The homeless and addicted littered the streets, and you didn't want to be caught in Hollywood at night – not unless you knew where you were going and could get there quickly.
Hollywood was where most dreams came to die. Or maybe, I was just being cynical.
My sixteen-year-old sister, Sierra, was at the kitchen table doing homework when I woke up that afternoon. When I glanced at the clock, I knew my fourteen-year-old brother, Nick, was at basketball practice. I always knew where they were and had their schedules down cold.
“How's Mr. Peabody doing? Is he still teaching biology?” I asked Sierra.
I stood there, staring into a empty fridge. Shopping didn't get done, go figure. My stomach growled, and eventually I made some toast. There was no jelly, since we were out. Of course. Margarine was all we had. Great. I sighed and dropped a couple slices of bread into the toaster.
“Yeah, he's still a hardass,” she said, taking her headphones off.
She stared back at me with the sweetest, most innocent looking face I'd ever seen on another human being. A lot of people said we looked alike, and maybe we did back when I was her age. Before life started getting to me and piling on the worries. But, I couldn't remember – or even imagine – ever looking as sweet and innocent as my little sister.
“He's a hardass because he cares about you, chica,” I said, ruffling her hair. “Thinks you have what it takes to make something of yourself. I do too, by the way.”
Her hair was the same dark brown, bordering on black, as mine, except, hers was long and straight, where mine was thick and wavy. Unruly at times. I always thought she got the better end of the stick in the hair department.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Sierra said, laughing.
My toast popped up and I buttered it, before putting it on a plate and joining my sister at the table. I snacked on my lunch/dinner combo before I had to head into work.
I dug into my pockets and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, all that I had left over after paying the bills. I handed it over to Sierra with a sigh.
“Here, get you and Nick something to eat for dinner,” I said. “A pizza or something.”
Sierra looked at the money, then back at me. She didn't take it and a sorrowful expression crossed her face.
“I hate taking your money, sis.”
“You need to eat.”
“So do you.”
“I'm eating, aren't I?” I held up my toast and gave her a smile I hoped didn't look as fake as it felt. “Besides, I can always grab something at the club. You guys can't.”
