One Desire

​Once I looked into the mirror and saw a young girl named Tyler. Now when I look into the mirror, I don’t know who I am. All I know is I died when I began to lie to others and to myself. It started as one lie here and one lie there and pretty soon I became someone else.

It began on my eighteenth birthday. That day should have been the best day of my life. It started out that way of course. I woke to a beautiful summer day. Nothing out of the ordinary happened that morning, except I heard doves cry, and that was probably a warning sign. I said good bye to my parents and headed off to my high school graduation ceremony.

This day would have been wonderful even if I wasn’t rich like my class mates, or popular, or beautiful. I had none of those qualities but one. I was the girl most likely to succeed if I had money and had the parentage. At my private school, I managed to pull off a 4.0, which wasn’t easy with the rumors and threats vaulted in my direction. All because I study and could pass subjects that anyone with a little extra effort could have done.

The girls were jealous but they never gave me a second thought because I never attended their parties or glanced in the direction of their boyfriends. That was all they cared about. Grades were nothing. They could buy a grade if they had to, but a good looking rich boy, now that was a horse of a different color. These pretentious girls would have cut my hair, run me down with their Porsches and spread the most obscene gossip about me if I opened my mouth to mention their boyfriend’s names.

Throughout my years at Capitol Institute for the gifted and talented, most of the girls in this private school were gifted and talented as long as they had a hard grasp on mommy and daddy’s wallets to guarantee they would remain that way.

Girls like me who worked their asses off to escape the inevitable, never got a break unless they received good grades. At the time I didn’t understand the importance of youth and money, but I did understand the importance of an education.

I stood before that crowd of she devils and gave my valedictorian speech. Eyes rolled, curses were mouthed as I tried to read my illustrious speech. The only one sat there and listened to me was Christina and my parents.

Thanks to Chris my best friend, otherwise, my life would have been a living hell, and she was my only friend for four long years.

I was poor in friends, and just plain poor. I couldn’t afford the money to pay for anything but an occasional pizza, and in the evenings when the cafeteria was closed, I hid away in the library and ate tuna sandwiches. I spent more energy worrying about whether someone would notice that my family was broke, it was a wonder I graduated, but graduate I did.

My parents, George and Nora Burns were blue collar workers who happen to save a few dollars to pay for a home when the economy was doing ok. But my father loss his job and had been out of work for four years. In his sixties, and when the employment picture improved, no one wanted to hire him.

When I broke the news to my parents that I had won a scholarship to a prestigious high school, instead of them jumping for joy, they put their heads down and prayed. That’s all they seem to do lately is pray for me, and play the lottery.

The scholarship I received to attend this absurdly expensive school wasn’t worth the embarrassment I felt every minute of the day. But I was there and I had to adjust. I walked with my head bent and ear plugs on most times so as not to listen to the rich girls’ chatter. The whispers sounded like this, What is she doing here? and that I was clearly out of my element and out of my class. Where did you buy that dress? And a chorus of girls would chant, Goodwill, And the laughs would follow. They weren’t wrong. They were just cruel.

I made it through the embarrassment of cheap clothing, bullying, and today I’m graduating. Although I can pick my choice of universities and colleges, I will go to a local college and get a job, where I can help my mother and father pay for their home. I’m by no means as honorable as I appear. I want to be selfish and uncaring and obnoxious and spoiled as the girls in my school are, trust me, I’ve had plenty of examples, but I just can’t afford to be a narcissist. It takes time and money and I have none.

Nevertheless, I’m proud of myself for making it through the hardest years of my life. It wasn’t the teachers and the classes. That was easy. All I had to do was study. And study I did. I ate and slept with my books. If the girls didn’t speak well of me the teachers did.

Whenever a teacher asked another teacher about me they would say, Tyler Burns, yes, she’s the best student in this school and I’m proud to have her in my class. But I overheard old Mr. Bankston my English teacher say, I agree, but she’s too quiet, he whispered. You never know what she’s thinking, and I never know she’s in class until I ask a question, and then finally she comes alive. Then he would end it with, Too quiet, not assertive enough. And he would shake his head and shuffle on to class. Mr. Bankston was snoozing most of the time, the other times he had his head planted in a sandwich, and he didn’t know who was in his class let alone me.

I walked on stage and accepted my diploma as the valedictorian of my senior class and became invisible, wearing my cheap designer knockoff, under that expensive cap and gown.

My life changed, I changed when I caught the eyes of Brandon Charles, the most handsome, riches, smartest, and soon to be married senior at Princeton University.

​ Chapter 1

Are you ready Tyler?

For what? I said. I glanced up and my eyes focused on Christina’s bright childish gaze. I threw the last of my folded clothes into my luggage, zipped it up and pulled up the handle. Every piece of clothing I wore for four years fit into that soft baggage. I had just enough time to catch a ride with my parents or take the train if I wanted to socialize. My social circle consisted of one person Christina.

Why are you leaving for home? Don’t you realize what you have accomplished? Here use my phone and call your parents and tell them you’re staying with me tonight and you’ll be home tomorrow, Chris said with a nod waiting for me to take the phone.

I don’t know. They’re outside waiting for me, I said with the sophistication of a five year old. Should I? I could see my father’s beat up Ford truck from my dorm window.

Of course you should. When will you ever be eighteen again and get the chance to hobnob with the future Titans and leaders of the world?

I don’t feel comfortable among rich arrogant ass holes. A slight furrow of Chris’s brow made me understand that I had hurt her feelings. I said, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean you. And her mouth with a slight turn upward burst into a bright smile.

I had known only once when she didn’t smile. It was when she got a D in Science and her parents threatened to confiscate her smartphone. They just threatened. A threat is only good if you carry it out. She was their only child and Chris was sweet and beautiful and no one could resist her childish grin.

I tutored her and she raised the D to a B and we became best friends.

Her smile was real and permanent on her face as if the world could never touch her and snatch away her dreams. Her small round face wore bright blue eyes and her hair was jet black and short framing her charming little face. I was sure she dyed her hair that color because she was a natural blond and wanted to be something she wasn’t. She wanted to be like me poor and unassuming and a brunet, but she wasn’t and that may have been one more reason she befriended me.

Chris’s height, five feet five inches. One inch shorter than me. Her dress size around zero and mine a size 6. She was the perfect size for fairytales and living happily ever after. She was born into money, but by the way she dressed it wasn’t obvious. Her mother knew this famous up and coming designer in New York, and Chris would try out the clothes and give him feedback. It wasn’t just the clothes, she lived in the most expensive area in New Jersey, had a loft in Manhattan, and she drove a red Porsche Carrera.

It wasn’t just the cars that she drove, it was the respect that the rich girls at school poured on her. One day she took pity on me and tried offering me some of her clothes. I was stupid and proud then and refused. Her feelings were hurt, but she understood me and I knew she wasn’t like those snotty, snooty, girls who made my life miserable.

I called my parents at Chris’s insistence. I trusted her. Mom and dad, I’m going to stay over at Christina’s.

We’re happy that you’re getting out and meeting people, my mother said without a question.

I added, I’ll be home early tomorrow. See you. I love you both. My parents trusted me to do the right thing, and I had been a trustworthy person until I met that handsome college senior, Brandon Charles, with the electric smile that could burn a hole in a girl’s heart, body, and soul.

***

We entered the gates of Chris’s parents’ estate and drove for ten minutes until we arrived in front of the mansion with its manicured hedges and an array of colorful blooming flowers. She parked at the front door and we hopped out of her Porsche. She opened the door with a buzzer. When I stepped into the foyer, I walked around with my head up and turning in a circle gazing at the ceiling and chandeliers. There were three large crystal ones positioned twenty feet apart.

Where are your parents? I said looking around the enormous house with my eyes glued to the staircase that would make Gone with the Wind set designer envious. The staircase

was wide and curved and the railings, dark polished wood.

They’re off on a Safari, in Atlantic City, Las Vegas gambling, take your pick, I’ll know if they’re back tomorrow, Chris said watching my expression. "My room is upstairs but we can take the elevator.

You have an elevator? I questioned with amazement.

She pointed to the elevator to the right and we headed for it. She opened the door gazing at my expression with a small smile and we stepped in. She knew this was new and intriguing for me and she enjoyed sharing the experience.

I had one of the bedrooms downstairs but my parents came in late one night and caught a boy in my bed, she said hunching her shoulders with the palms of her hands outstretched, glancing at me with her wide blue eyes, smiling, and wondering what’s the big deal. I never know where they are, but you can bet the servants did. They never tell me anything. I tried to explain that Patrick was only a friend but they didn’t believe me. Imagine that, not believing me. She turned to give her patent smile and the elevator door opened.

This is my room, Chris said pointing to the door on the right of the elevator. When she opened the door to her room, I thought I would die. She had a large canopy bed and her room was the size of our home. It was decorated in pink and purple, with pictures of her as a child and a large collection of dolls and stuffed animals. She smiled. I knew that smile. Her walk in closet and bathroom could house another small home.

You have two bathrooms? I said in disbelief.

No. One is a shower and one has a tub for lying around and contemplating my life. Another gleaming smile. She closed the door and opened her closet.

My God you will never be able to wear those clothes in a lifetime, I said walking into the house size closet, standing with my mouth ajar.

That’s why you will have to take some of these things off my hand. I don’t know what to do with them, she said throwing piles of dresses on the bed.

I can’t take your clothes.

They’re not my clothes. They are a size six and I’m now a zero. Her gaze swung back to me. I have never worn them and they mean nothing to me. On the other hand if you wear these tonight, she said taking a pair of designer jeans off a hanger, which had a price tag of one thousand dollars and a white shirt equally in price. She shoved them in front of me. "See how great you look. All you need is some clothes to bring out your beautiful face and hazel eyes, they are hazel? She said leaning in to make sure.

I wish I had hair like yours, she said smiling. It’s so long and thick. What is that color? Chris queried raking her hand through my hair.

Chestnut brown. Where are we going? I don’t need to walk around with clothes that expensive in Trenton. People will laugh at me. I was begging her to let me be myself.

We’re going to a frat party to celebrate their graduation into the world of Business and Finance. You have just graduated from a school most girls would pay a ransom to be a part of. You’ve been accepted into Yale, Harvard, and who knows where and all you want to do is go back to Trenton. There is no going back, Tyler. You made that decision when you accepted that scholarship and got those grades. Your life will be forever changed. My eyes widened. It was too much for me to understand let alone appreciate.

Tyler Burns, that girl from Trenton, New Jersey, is officially dead. I think it was then that I knew I had died, or was it the moment Brandon Charles stepped into my life.

That’s not exactly what I meant, I said to her with an uneasy smile.

I know what you meant. I’m saying that you need to dress like this for once in your life to attract the men you are going to marry. Other than that, what’s the purpose of going to a Prep school like ours?

Maybe to get a good education, I added.

What good is a good education if you can’t use it to marry a rich man?

I will be able to use it, I protested. I want to be in love with a man if I marry him and I don’t care if he is making just enough to get by as long as we’re in love. She looked at me with suspicion and disbelief. Her mouth swung wide open. She somehow thought that I didn’t believe what I was saying. Chris had been born into a world of excess and she knew the rules. I didn’t. Her parents were part of that system that invented the rules.

I gave in and agreed with her, and she smiled with satisfaction that I saw it her way. She handed me a pair of tight designer jeans and my compromise was a less expensive white shirt. We dressed and I picked up my purse and looped it over my shoulder.

There is no way I’m letting you out of my house with thousand dollar clothes and shoes and a two dollar purse. Before I could protest and hold on to the straps of my comfort bag, she reached and tore it off, with the straps falling apart in her hands. She looked at me and shook her head. Then she ran to her mother’s room and brought back a five thousand dollar Vuitton bag.

I can’t…

Yes you can. My mother has so many of these she won’t miss it. Besides she’s into more expensive bags.

What could be more expensive than this? I mumbled and Chris heard me.

Trust me, you don’t want to know. That’s for later, when you have married your Prince Charming, the one with money to burn.

And what about you? I asked after we entered the car. She hit a button and off we went.

I don’t have to worry about marrying for money. I have mommy’s and daddy’s money. I can marry for love. You on the other hand, should marry for money. And she hit a curve that threw me to the side. When I righted myself, I shot her a worried glance.

​ Chapter 2

Chris’s life was one I didn’t understand and felt unprepared to enter. But I embraced it. I dressed in jeans that would have paid a month’s wages to my father. And the blouse and shoes cost a small fortune but I wore them as if I were born into them. Her expensive gray Porsche and driving skills finally got us to a beautiful three story brick house with a well-manicured yard and a sign in the front: Frat House: Alpha, Gamma, Beware

We arrived at dusk to a large mansion with lights on in every floor but one. I noticed the blackout on the fourth floor. What’s on that floor? I pointed so Chris would not miss my point.

Don’t ask? But whatever you do, don’t go there.

I nodded my head in agreement. As soon as we stopped, a valet opened my door and I stepped on to the driveway. Come on Tyler, don’t be frightened.

I’m not afraid of anyone after what I endured at that school. I tottered a bit. These shoes are too high, I protested.

Catching my breath and feigning confidence, I strutted along with Chris. One of the frat brothers standing on the outside opened the door and looked me up and down and said, Nice. I think she’s a ten. We’ll reserve her for Brandon."

Did you hear what he said, I tugged at Chris’s blouse.

Don’t pay any attention to him, he’s only a freshman.

I stood with Chris until someone directed us into the main room where most of the girls in our senior class were sitting, dancing, and drinking. Their eyes converged on me as we entered. I read hate, envy, and hurt. They wished they could hurt me physically. I know that’s an emotion that’s hard to read but I could imagine what they were thinking of doing to me. Perhaps cut my hair and beat me to a pulp. I wanted to run. I thought I would have a new start but it appears I was back at school with the same mean girls gazing in my direction, and this time with their mouths wide as if they were wolves getting ready to devoir a harmless little rabbit. I could imagine how I looked to those predators.

They can’t believe it is the little brown mouse looking hot in those designer clothes, Chris said looking at me. What? Chris said locking eyes with them. I know what they’re thinking. See, I told you they would be stunned and mortified, she continued reaching for my hand and pulling me out of the line of fire, as I stood like a deer caught in the crosshairs of a hunter’s gun.

"By the expressions on their