Little Miss Perfect

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

We were greeted by a private car when we exited the airport. The chauffeur smiled at Cory and gave me a small wink.

"Is Mr.Na-" started the chauffeur.

"No, he's coming separately," said Cory, then turned to me. "My brother."

The car took us to a huge mansion. It was as large as my old home.

"Wow, this place is amazing!" I gasped. Cory pulled me into the garden.

"Look I need to tell you something," he said. "Most of the girls I dated come from...well, rich families, so...they were used to all this."

I frowned, then remembered that he thought I had a scholarship.

"We're gonna go to this celebration for my parents, and...well...it's pretty big. Once I took this girl, who was a scholarship pupil, and she...well, she felt intimidated,"

I shrugged.

"That's alright, I think I'll be able to handle it," I said simply.

His shoulders relaxed.

"Ok, c'mon, lets meet my sister Georgia. Just to warn you...she can be a bit...you know, um, over whelming,"

Over whelming was an understatement, because when I knocked on the door, a tall girl with dark hair literally jumped on me.

"Hey, I'm Georgia, call me George!" she hugged me.

"Hi, nice to meet you," I said smoothly.

"Wow! You've actually bought a polite one home!" she gasped, pretending to be shocked.

"So, what's your name then?" she asked.

"Santana, but most people call me Sandy," I said.

"Hey, I didn't know that!" protested Cory.

"So...is she your date?" asked George.

Cory looked at me nervously.

"If you wanna' be?" he asked.

"Oh My God! You bought a girl home without asking her to be your date?" she imitated fake shock again. "Come in!" she said, changing topics as fast as she started the. She pulled me to the stairs.

"We want you looking beautiful, missus. Cory, leave her to me!" she said.

"When's the celebration?" I asked George.

"Tomorrow night, but we have a lot of preparing to do!"

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By morning, I was waxed, plucked and cleaned like a chicken getting ready for the oven.

"Beautiful!" said George. She smiled at my eyebrows which were in a perfect oval shape.

"So, tell me about your parents," I asked.

"Oh, my mum is a writer and my dad owns the company, Georgia and Co. You'll meet them later, they're kinda' helping with the party. Oh, I'm soooo excited. All the fashion magazines will be there. I can't wait. Oh, and it's gonna' be the first time I'll be seen out with Kevin!" she went on.

"Kevin? As in Kevin McDonald?" I asked.

Kevin McDonald was the son of Bruce McDonald, and the future owner to Donald Express. Their company was making millions. My family's company, Mathews, produces clothes (which my mum designs) interior and furniture. Sammy Mathews is the delivery company, and Dianne Mathews was the name of our jewelry company.

"Yeah, you probably heard of him," she said. "Anyway, tell me about you, like how did you meet Cory,"

"Oh...we're not dating or anything. We just...met on in class, and he asked me to come here with him," I said.

"Oh," he face dropped. "Anyway, tell me about you!"

Me? What about me?

"I...well..." I trailed off.

"Like what you wanna' do when you're older?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I'm not...clear about the future yet,"

"Oh don't worry, I only found out that fashion was my future career in college. I literally had no idea of what to do in life when I left high-school!" she exclaimed. "Ok, time to pick a dress!"

She handed me a booklet.

"Anything! All yours," she said. The catalogue was full of dresses, and their prices were pretty heavy. I could afford any of them like a penny though. As I flicked through, I noticed a light pink, strapless dress circled.

"That's the one I'm getting," she said. I nodded. It would suit her tall figure and olive skin. My eyes wandered, but I couldn't make a choice.

"You help me!" I said.

"Ok how about... " she flicked through the pages. "This?" she asked, pointing to a white cocktail dress. I shook my head. After a few more tries , she threw the book. "I give up! Literally! Let's get something to eat now!" she gasped.

We made our way downstairs and had a tiny snack. Then she went through the dresses she owned but they did not suit my skin tone or figure. In the end, I decided to order the white dress, which wasn't that ugly. It was just that I hated dresses.

Literally an hour after ordering the dresses, a woman was standing on the porch, holding something.

"I have your dresses, miss." But then she read a paper, and her face fell. "I'm sorry, but the white cocktail dress was ordered a bit too late. We ran out of stock."

"But, can't we pick another dress?" asked George.

"I'm sorry but the ordering service is closed for today," said the lady.

"Maybe I should stay here instead of going to the party " I said.

"No!" she said. "You'll go to the party no matter what!"

She then claimed to have a plan and bought in some measuring tape and measured me. I knew what she was going to do but I didn't trust her instincs: if a top designer company which claimed to have a dress for everyone did not have a dress which suited me, then how would a college student who had only been studying fashion for less than two years find me the perfect dress. After a few hours of watching TV, she entered the living room.

"Close your eyes," she said. I closed them, and I heard a zip being pulled. I opened my eyes to see a deep red dress with folds and gems. It was halter neck, the fabric making it's way carefully to the neck, and twisted slightly like snakes. I didn't feel a rush of any excitement, all I saw was a pretty dress. But I couldn't hurt her feelings.

"Wow!" I said. "Did you make that?"

"Yeah, sorry about the halter neck. They're the easiest and quickest. You have to be a bit careful though, because I rushed this and it might unravel," she warned.

"Wow!" I repeated. "How did you make it?"

"I had to use some material left over, and I had a skirt for the bottom bit. I just put it together. You know, last minute," she said. "But now, it's Party Time! Let's get ready!"

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I looked in the mirror and I saw that my pallid skin looked rose and cream. My normally grey-green eyes looked vibrant and wild, giving a brave and exotic look. My whole face looked natural and free of scars or color except my lips, which stood out in a scarlet shade. My hair was half up and half down, in shiny, chocolate locks, looking casual and self-less. I did not look pretty, I looked unforgettable. I did not look beautiful in a Beauty Queen way, but I look more like a fantasy creature, wild from all that she's been through, but tamed, like she's learnt from the world

Standing next to me was a girl with curled , caramel hair. Her blue eyes are large and her lips are soft and pink. Her face is happy and smiley. She looks innocent, like she has always seen the bright side of all things. She looks like a victim, like a princess, like she has never been hurt. But something in her eyes tells us that we are underestimating her. Georgia Brandon has a secret.

"What do you think?" she asks, grinning at her work.

"It's great!" I say. "Really, you've caught me as the real me,"