As I learned soon after my mother married Robert, life moves quickly for the 'rich and famous,' and in the case with Victoria it was no different: she obtained dual-citizenship and moved in to Robert's Austin mansion just twelve days later.

****

A couple of days after Victoria arrived the three of us were at Starbucks, waiting in line at the drive-thru.  I was seated in the back and listened curiously as they once again talked irritably about her son, Luca, a year younger than me at 18; from what little I picked up from Victoria since I met her he always seemed to be in some sort of trouble.  The latest morsel of bad news had to do with some kind of scandal at his boarding school in Italy. Victoria had been trying to get him admitted to another school but without much success.

As we pulled up to the speaker Robert asked, “Victoria, what do you want?”

“Oh, I do not know yet,” she replied hesitantly in her thick Italian accent.

“Amelia, you want the usual?”

“Sure,” I said absentmindedly, looking up from my phone; I always got the same: a double non-fat latte, extra hot.  Luca had just added me as a 'friend' on Facebook and I was flipping through his pictures. If I hadn’t known he was my rich, well-to-do stepbrother I would have been totally intimidated by him. He looked big and tough, not the kind of boy one would expect the svelte Victoria to give birth to. Luca had a strong jaw line, a masculine face covered in stubble, and a broad, athletic build.

I flipped through his pictures with more than a passing interest. He was muscular, but not bulky like the meat-head jocks at my school. He was nicely proportioned. His black hair was a sexy, curly tangle that seemed to fall into just the right place, even if it was tousled in such a way that suggested total carelessness.

But none of that really seemed intriguing, at least not compared to his eyes, which were a piercing, icy light-blue. Even on the fuzzy screen of my iPhone they looked like they were burning with some kind of otherworldly force that demanded I keep flipping through his photos. I usually had zero patience for Facebook, but in this particular case I kind of enjoyed looking at Luca.

“I still do not know,” Victoria hedged. She turned around to look at me. “What do you usually get, Amelia?”

"A double, whole-milk latte, extra hot.”

“Amelia,” she said with astonishment, her eyes widening a little behind her oversized sunglasses. “Such an appetite! Just like my son, he has crazy appetite for everything.”

I rolled my eyes--was she serious?  At that moment I realized why fashion models had the reputation they did for eating disorders. What did she expect I order from Starbucks? A cup of water?

“How about a double, non-fat latte?” Robert suggested with a wry smile.

“Well, okay, I guess,” Victoria acquiesced.

We got our drinks and drove back to the house.  I wanted to take a dip in the pool and lay around in the sun before I took a crack at my homework. I didn’t quite know why, but I took a sort of sick satisfaction in working through a giant stack of AP assignments; the same feeling induced by a grueling workout on the track.

When we got back I sat down at the kitchen table with Robert and Victoria to finish up what remained of my latte.

“We’re going to go shopping this morning,” Robert said. “What’re you going to do today, honey?”

I shrugged. “Hang out by the pool a little, then get my homework out of the way.”

I finished up my drink and then bounced out of my chair to give Robert a hug. “Okay, well I’ll see you guys later.  Have fun shopping.”  I then gave Victoria a hug.

“Have a good day, Amelia, sweetheart,” she said affectionately, kissing both of my cheeks. "I wish Luca was more like you." She had the most charming accent!

I bounded up the stairs to my room and changed into the little red bikini that Victoria had bought me last week. I put my hair up as I scrutinized myself in the mirror. I had been freaked out about buying the bikini, but Victoria had insisted, then simply bought it for me despite my protests. Looking this provocative scared me: the way the thin straps and little triangles of fabric made me flaunt my figure gave me a nervous flutter in my stomach. Even if I was still a little on the thin side, I looked like a woman now: and a dangerous one at that.

If I didn’t have the house to myself this morning there was no way I would have ever walked around in it like this. I threw on the old straw Stetson I’d had forever, grabbed my favorite pair of cheap, neon-framed shades, and made my way down to the pool.

I splashed around a little then laid myself out on a deck chair to dry out. An hour of delicious laziness in the sunshine would feel great before I cracked the books.

Just as I settled comfortably into the lounger my phone buzzed indicating a new text message had arrived. I groaned and reached for it. Probably Julia. She was my closest friend, constant study partner, and a miserable depressive whom, lately, I couldn’t stand to be around for more than a few hours. She’d probably been eating her younger brother’s Adderall and was now eager to come over and study for our AP history exam.  We talked about going to one of the trendy coffee shops downtown this weekend to do our homework there. But I didn’t feel like studying right at this moment; all I wanted was to just lie around and feel the hot sunshine on my body.

I reluctantly picked up the phone. It wasn't Julia after all. Instead I had a message from a number I didn’t recognize. Shielding my eyes from the glaring sunlight, I tapped on the screen to open the message.

Ciao. This is Luca, your brother from Italy. How are you doing in the USA?

 

Oh how exciting, I thought. I tried to think of something to write back that wasn’t totally banal.

Nothing...just hanging out by the pool on a Saturday morning. What time is it in Italy? Ugh, so much for banal.

 

Maybe I should send him a picture instead--haha. Sure, my racy new swimsuit scared me when I looked at myself in front of the mirror, but viewed on a fuzzy phone screen on the other side of the world, it probably wouldn't appear all that provocative.

 

I held the camera above me, pointing it at my body sprawled on the lawn chair. I was new to this whole selfie-taking business, which had always seemed a little self-absorbed and stupid to me. I could barely see the preview in the screen against the glare of the sun. I snapped a picture and looked at the result. Not bad, I thought. I definitely looked...hot. And it was the kind of great picture you get every so often, just out of sheer dumb luck. The background, the expensive Mexican tiles that Robert had paved the deck with, was blown out almost too white, in a way that looked sort of artistic. The curves of my body were in shockingly high definition, and my bikini was bright, bright red. I looked at this gem of a picture in wonder, not quite believing the girl on the pool chair was really me.

Should I even send it? It seemed so audacious and flirtatious, but that was probably just my shyness talking. And the picture just looked too good, someone besides me should see it anyway. I tapped ‘send’ before I could have any more second thoughts.

I waited nervously for a response.  Then I placed the phone down and tried to relax again.  But a moment later it buzzed.

It was Julia.

Let’s study for History?

 

Sure, I texted back. Come over whenever.

 

I groaned and stretched. I wanted to keep lying in the sun. I gathered my things and looked at my selfie one last time before finally making myself get up.

****

I headed back upstairs and changed out of my bikini. I kept playing around with my phone, taking pictures of myself naked and sprawled on my bed. I looked at them inquisitively, checking myself out. I deleted them all but one.