“I’m starting to think maybe Mom and Tad aren’t so hot on Drake after all. This thing is rife with engine problems, torn upholstery, stinks like a cigarette burial ground, and I swear it hobbles. It has three-car pileup written all over it. As soon as we hit the driveway, I bounce out of the car. I tug at my skirt as I make my way up the driveway. Instead of showing off my French maid costume in front of Mom and Tad, and trying to escape their clutches as they attempt to strangle me with my fish...net stockings, I changed over at Brielle’s. Brielle’s mom, Darla, lent me a pair of four inch spiked heels with metal studs running down the back. They’re totally cute, but hurt like hell to walk in. Darla kept saying they were her favorite pair of FM’s, and when I asked what FM’s were, both Brielle and Darla laughed. It’s annoying when I don’t know things. They’ve totally lived their lives cloistered on an island—they’re the ones who shouldn’t know things. I’m from L.A.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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