Teaching My Bookworm Stepsister
Chapter 1

Kapri's P.O.V.

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

Ahhh, finally school is out. The last day of my junior year. I can't wait for this summer to be over! Senior year I'm really going to have to crack down. I have to work on my college essay all summer. Then I can send it in to the schools I have applied to. Mrs. Gimmel, the student counselor, told me that I have a very high chance of getting a full-ride scholarship to the school of my choice. My essay just has to be well written, and obviously, a school has to accept me. I have my heart set on Harvard. I know, basic, but it could really get me places. Not to mention I come from nothing. I could give Mom and I the life we've always deserved.

I just have to ace this essay.

Mrs. Gimmel told me that colleges want something that stands out. She asked me what makes me unique. I don't play sports, but I am the head of our book club. I also help out with the yearbook committee. Apparently, that wasn't enough though. Mrs. Gimmel says that this needs to be something personal.

What is personal about me, that stands out from everyone else?

I'm just a poor white young woman. That's as basic as it freaking gets. I can play on the poor thing. Maybe talk about how my dad left when I was only four. How I've never had a father figure, but.. Does that really stand out?

Maybe I can play it all. The poor young woman from the rich town of Cherry Hills Village, Colorado. Her dad left their family when she was only four years old. A single mother raising her child on her own.

Yeah, I guess I could play that out. Although, that just doesn't seem like enough. I need something more. My grades aren't enough to get me into Harvard. But there's nothing interesting about me. I'm just.. plain. "What are you doing in the library on our last day of school?"

I looked up from my notebook to replace my best friend Molly. She has her arms crossed as she glares at me. Her foot was tapping impatiently.

Molly has been my best friend since we were in kindergarten. Our moms have been best friends our whole lives. Molly is the same age as me. She has short light brown hair that falls just passed her shoulders, her front pieces are dyed a bright blue. Her eyes are deep blue and full of life. Molly just has a way of lighting up a room when she enters.

"I had to start my essay." I said as I turned back to my notebook.

Molly huffed as she plopped down on the chair next to me.

"I

I thought we were going to go to that after-school party at Brooke's?" She whined.

"You said you were going, not me." I said.

"But we were both invited," she argued.

I raised a brow at her.

"Brooke is your friend," I stated.

Molly rolled her eyes at me.

"She's our friend." She corrected me. "I told you that. I know she started out my friend, but Brooke really likes you." She said.

Does she though?

Brooke has never invited me to anything before. Not her birthday parties, not out after school, not even to study together. The only reason Brooke and her friend Megan even pay me any attention, is because I'm Molly's best friend.

I guess I should be happy. At least Molly didn't ditch me for the 'populars'. And at least they are nice to me. I just.. don't feel like we're actually friends.

Maybe that's what I can write my essay about. The poor young woman, her dad left when she was just a toddler, her mom raised her on her own, and the town loser! Yeah, that's guaranteed to make me pitiful.

I internally groaned.

"Look, I know that you don't really like parties, but I am serious. Brooke asked us both to come. She and Megan do like you. You just don't give them the chance. Your face is always stuck in a book. Or school work." Molly said. "That's a bad thing?" I asked.

Molly scoffed. She hates it when I prioritize school over.. well, anything. I am a teenager after all, how dare I.

"Yes it's a bad thing! If you look up from your books every once in a while, you will see that there is so much more to life." She told me.

I gave her a bored look.

"Like parties," I stated.

"And boys," Molly said, smiling.

I snorted at my best friend.

"Why don't you just go without me? Have fun. I won't be upset about it." I said, turning back to my work.

Molly huffed. My best friend has a bratty streak. Due to her dad absolutely spoiling his only daughter.

"I won't go if you don't. Besides, Brooke will feel some type of way if you don't come. She already thinks you don't like her," she said.

I looked up at Molly.

"She does?" I asked, feeling guilty.

Molly nodded.

"I didn't mean to come off like that.. I do really like her. Both of them. I just.. thought they liked you, not me." I said.

Molly put her hand on mine.

"Just because I met them first, doesn't mean they can't like us both." She told me.

I guess Molly has a point. Maybe I'm just a hermit. I still don't want to go though.

I sighed, feeling defeated.

"Fine, I'll go. But I am leaving when I want."

"Mom!" I called out as I walked into my apartment.

"Her car wasn't in the parking lot." Molly said.

I sighed.

"She got in that accident, remember? We haven't had a car since," I said.

"But that was like.. six months ago," Molly said.

"Yup." I stated as I rushed back to my room.

Mom and I live in a small apartment. One that is much too small for the two of us, and way too expensive. Maybe I can put that in my essay.

However small, I do like it. It's always just been Mom and me. Ever since my dad left. I don't remember him at all. And I don't want to. I will never understand how someone can abandon their family like that.

Regardless of what happened between my parents, it didn't stop Mom from living her best life. I've seen so many guys run through this apartment, it isn't even funny. I even stopped learning their names. Or anything else about them for that matter. Some of them try to talk to me, try to do the whole 'step dad' thing. I usually just say something witty that goes right over their heads, or I walk away completely ignoring him. Either option gets me yelled at.

Good for me that Mom doesn't really believe in grounding. She says I'm too mature to punish. I also think Mom feels bad for whatever happened between her and my dad. I wish she wouldn't though. Whatever happened, it shouldn't be enough for him to completely abandon me. His daughter.

Whatever. One day it won't matter. One day, after I'm graduated and a published author, Mom won't have to worry about a thing. I'll take care of us. I'll give her a life filled with so much happiness, she stops looking for it in shi.tty men.

Which brings me right back to my essay. Technically, I have until the end of my senior year to finish it. I do not want to wait that long. The anxiety will kill me. I've got to think of a way to word my life to make it sound more tragic than it is. Otherwise I'll never get into Harvard.

"Okay, wear this one." Molly tossed an article of clothing at me.

I grabbed it and held it up. It's a small, tight, little black dress. Something I would never be caught dead in.

"This is Mom's," I told her.

"Yeah, I was in her closet," Molly said. "I took one of her bikinis too. I wish my mom had style like yours."

I rolled my eyes.

"At least your mom acts like a mom." I grumbled.

"April acts like a mom. She's just.." Molly trailed off.

"Acts too young?" I offered.

"I was going to say, is herself," Molly replied.

"Well, whatever. It doesn't matter. I'm not wearing this, or the bikini. I'll just wear what I have on." I said.

"Wh-what you have on?" Molly exclaimed like I had just kicked a puppy in front of her.

I looked down at my plain baby blue T-shirt, and simple jean shorts.

"What's wrong with what I have on?" I asked with a frown.

Molly rolled her eyes at me.

"Well, for starters, it's a pool party," she murmured.

"I have a suit of my own," I said.

"Oh come on!" Molly said as she stomped her foot. "Yours is cute and all, but April's is sexy. Let's be sexy. We're seniors now," she said.

I just blinked at my best friend.

"Okay, what if we compromise?" She offered.

I raised a brow at her.

"You wear your own swim suit, but with this dress," Molly said excitedly.

I looked at the dress in my hands, then at my best friend. It's not like I have a bad looking body. I don't think anyway. Molly is always talking about how I have thick thighs that all the boys would love. My chest isn't small, but it isn't huge either. I don't think my body looks as good as Molly's, or Brooke's, or Megan's though.

I'll probably look so silly in Mom's dress. I won't be comfortable the entire time. Not that I would be anyway.

Molly gave me her best puppy dog face, and even whimpered. I gave Molly a soft smile. I put my hand on her shoulder, and she perked up. I took in a deep, dramatic breath.

"No."