Chapter Two:

| Whitney |

“We’re so proud of you, honey.” James York reached across the classic white patio table where his family all gathered for dinner, and squeezed his eldest daughter Theresa’s hand tightly; A sentiment the newly casted actress returned with a flutter of her doe-like sea green eyes and what was meant to be a humble smile, but Whitney York knew better. Her sister craved the attention like she craved a knife in her own trachea anytime they all got together.

It wasn’t that she was jealous, she always knew they came from different worlds in personality. From day one, Theresa had gotten into beauty pageants and gymnastics with an enthusiasm that their parents couldn’t help but support. It was only natural she’d take ridiculously expensive acting classes and be in all the right places to meet all the in people littered throughout Hollywood California. Thanks to a diet of sparkling water, adderall, and a few occasional lettuce leaves, she’d maintained the perfect figure to slip into the modeling world. Her cascading waves of golden hair and infectious laugh caught the attention of record producer Benjamin O’Sullivan at an exclusive shindig in the Hamptons, and five years later they were blissfully married with two beautiful children.

The reason for their visit this evening was to announce Theresa’s lead part in an upcoming Romantic comedy. Of course, everyone stopped what they were doing to make the event a huge deal. Like two little clones, Hunter and Josephine O’Sullivan sat in between their parents flashing white smiles at their grandmother Eileen, who was too busy coddling them to notice her youngest daughter had disappeared from the patio to get away from The Theresa Show for two seconds.

Whitney never showed interest in beauty pageants of any kind, and sure as hell couldn’t contort her body into a perfect ball for an adoring crowd. She loved cheeseburgers too much to model, and couldn’t act to save her life. In short, she was the dud. At least that’s what her family seemed to think. Then there was the other thing.

It was kind of hard to find a husband when she didn’t want one in the first place, much less children to go with the deal. A fact that’d devastated her mother, in particular.

Speaking of, it’d been a blast coming out to her parents while they already saw her as a history repeating failure, not that Whitney felt that way about herself. She’d never considered being gay a defect, it’s just part of who she was. Theresa was the star child with the glamorous existence, and Whitney was the sack of potatoes.

She could still remember being fourteen years old, sitting on the edge of her bed while twenty two year old Theresa attempted to straighten the stubborn black curls that’d plagued every single school picture from the time she’d entered Kindergarten. The straightener actually short circuited, which frustrated Whitney to no end. Her sister tried explaining the process needed patience, but her words fell on deaf ears. She’d left all ideas of conforming with that twelve year old experience. These days, she preferred to keep her unruly mane braided off to the side. She shared the same round eye shape as Theresa, only hers were a pleasant honey brown. Go figure she’d be the only one in her immediate family to get her great grandmother Gertrude’s eye color. James, Eileen, and Theresa had variations of blue or green in theirs.

Not seeing a reason to rejoin her too perfect family, Whitney sighed loudly and leaned against her parent’s stainless steel French refrigerator. How was she supposed to break the news now? What would they say? God she could already hear them.

“When are you going to get your head out of the clouds? Look at Theresa! You could be just like her if you tried hard enough. Running away won’t solve anything.” James would bark.

Her mother wouldn’t be any better.

“Whitney, you’re twenty six. Don’t you want better for yourself? There are plenty of opportunities here, don’t squander the chances you’re blessed with. Get out there and make people notice you!”

She almost snorted out loud at the thought.

Oh mom, I’m about to get my ass out there alright.

Stashed neatly underneath her memory foam pillow was the note Whitney left for her parents to find. She’d had it with California, and was finally doing something about it. Peering out the sliding glass door to observe all of them talking and laughing made her feel slightly sorry. She knew they meant well, but it was of no use. Whitney was an outsider to her own family, longing to step out from Theresa’s shadow. As if feeling his daughter’s steady gaze on him suddenly, James turned away from the engrossed conversation he was having with Benjamin to stare at Whitney in confusion. When she wouldn’t budge, he excused himself from his company to investigate. She turned in the direction of her bedroom when his voice stopped all movement.

"Whitney, where are you going? Don't tell me you're leaving us so soon."

Shit. Can’t pretend I didn’t see him now.

The hesitant brunette turned back around to smile awkwardly at her father with crossed arms. “I’m not feeling that great, so I just want to lie down for a bit.” She was lying through her teeth and they both knew it, but it was better than having to sit through one more tense family get together.

James had always been puzzled by his youngest. While the York clan prided themselves on performing for an audience, exceeding their own expectations left and right, Whitney kept her nose stuck in art books and shyed away from the spotlight. She dirtied the gorgeous, whimsical clothing Eileen bought her with paints and markers, and never seemed to care about the countless hours they’d spent on piano lessons. They eventually gave up, since he and his wife couldn’t keep her focused on the task long enough to learn anything. Nobody questioned Whitney’s radiant beauty, but she bore hardly any resemblance to the rest of his family. A disheartening realization, considering he couldn’t relate to her whatsoever. James loved succeeding. He was competitive, which eventually drove him to excel at Harvard Law School and go on to become a highly prosperous litigator. His wife Eileen had been a flourishing run way model, and here was Theresa following right in her footsteps. At the risk of starting the millionth argument on the subject, James talked himself into bringing the dreaded conversation up one more time.

“You know, I’m sure your sister could pull a few strings and work something out so-“

“Jesus, dad. Seriously? No! I’m happy for Theresa, but that’s not my life. Can’t you just accept that?” Whitney threw her arms in the air to emphasize the point, and James rubbed the bridge of his nose. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it was the usual disappointment he harbored toward her.

“It could be, you’re just not willing to put the work in for it.”

Whitney bristled. “So because I’m not crazy about starving myself or begging agencies for the chance to receive some attention, that automatically means I’m not a hard worker? That’s bullshit.” By then, everyone was coming inside to access the situation, but James had already started heading for the patio again.

“You are who you are because of YOU.” He pointed a jagged finger in Whitney’s direction, earning dark glares from the rest of her so called “family.” Once again, she was the monster.

Nothing to see here guys, just business as usual.

“Join us when you’re ready to socialize. Watching you feel sorry for yourself is just shameful, especially during your sister’s celebration.” Eileen snipped, filing behind her husband. Theresa shook her perfect blonde head, taking Hunter and Josephine by the shoulders and steering them back outside. Benjamin looked as uncomfortable as Whitney felt, but thankfully he tailed his wife without a word.

********************

Whitney had forgotten how tranquil staying up late at night felt.

Her light brown eyes had been fixated on the captivating full moon for the last hour or so. Theresa’s group had gone home a while ago, and her parents were tucked into their bedroom asleep by now. She’d wanted to wait as long as possible just to be sure.

The room she sat in was almost completely empty. After packing up the majority of her belongings, all that remained were the few pieces of furniture and a couple of hung up macaroni pictures she’d messed around with and created in college. Not wanting to waste anymore time, she’d managed to jam pack her little black Prius in the span of just under twenty five minutes.

Auburn, Maine was about as far from this hell hole as she could get, which is exactly why she was going there. Forty nine hours of distance between the two states, driving.

Bring it on.

She whipped out her black Samsung Galaxy S 10, and texted her new roommate to check in.

SMS: Hey Kendra, I’ve got the cashier’s check for first and last month’s rent. $1,000. I’m heading that way now, it’ll be a few days.

To her relief, Kendra responded immediately.

SMS: Sounds good. Be safe on the road, roomie! <3

Whitney had to admit, Craigslist wasn’t really the best choice to scope out potential rooms for rent, but she was desperate to get out of here and knew no apartment complex would take her without a job lined up. Thank God she’d had enough sense to Skype the chick to eliminate any foul play before agreeing to plan the move a week and a half ago. Having quit her job as a Podiatrist’s receptionist in secret two weeks prior, Whitney had approximately seven thousand dollars to her name after she paid rent to Kendra. It’d taken almost a year to save that kind of money up, and it made her want to shove it in James’ face for essentially calling her lazy. She searched for any signs of regret, staring at the five bedroom beach house she’d lived in her entire life, but found none.

This is it, she thought.

With one last glance at her old life, Whitney climbed into the vehicle and set up a popular road trip playlist on Spotify before speeding off quietly into the night.