Those bitches were gonna die.
That was a horrible thing to say about my so-called ‘friends’—and I used the word friends loosely, because true friends wouldn’t ditch you the day of your scheduled road trip because they’d rather be sunbathing in the Hamptons.
The fucking Hamptons.
I mean, how clichéd could you get.
This was why I hated rich people.
It also sucked that I was one of those rich people.
Well, I wasn’t, but my dad was.
So by extension so was I.
When you grew up with a rock star for a dad, cameras and eyes followed you everywhere. It was exhausting.
I couldn’t just be Willow.
I was Willow Wade.
The daughter of the famous drummer Maddox Wade.
People expected greatness from me.
I just wanted to graduate college without slitting my wrists.