RICHKIDS

＂ Ｉ Ｌｏａｔｈｅ Ｙｏｕ ＂Part 1

 "God, Erika, what are you doing in there?" Erika heard Benny Costa cry from behind the door of the the girl's personal bathroom. "Its that Scottish Salmon we had at the Mastro's Penthouse huh? I told you not to eat it, it makes you shit like crazy!"

Erika finished puking out her guts, hastily flushing the toilet. Benny's bathroom was jaded lavender counters and rugs, a small section blocked by decorating room dividers embellished with drawings of Cherokee legends. Erika thought the girl took her heritage way too seriously. According to her father, she and Damon were part-Italian but you didn't see her running around worshiping Pizzahut.

"I'm changing," Erika snapped,  looking at her horrid expression in the mirror. With her once elegant bun now a sloppy mess, makeup-less face, and small frame hidden by a baggy grey KENZO sweater and Victoria's Secret PINK booty shorts, she looked like a lazy Lindsey Lohan - and not the Lindsey from 'Mean Girls' either.

"Erika, come on!"

"Wait, gosh!" She called back, opening the drawers of Benny's elegant sink counter to look for a tube of Mascara. She found the usual in the girl's drawer; makeup, jewelry that could buy a family two houses tossed away as if it were trash, and - 'Ohhhhhh, look what we have here.'

Erika stared profoundly at a First Response Early pregnancy test - however what really interested her was the tiny pink plus sign. 'This is gossip gold.' It was also a great way to subside her anger and embarrassment over her suspension - and rejection.

Smirking, Erika opened the door to see Benny leaning in the doorway. She had been braiding her long locks - although Erika suspected the girl had a weave because there was no way her shoulder-length hair had grown past her shoulders in only three weeks. However, Benny quickly gawked when she saw her drawer open.

"Why the fuck are you looking through my stuff?" She shouted angrily, startling a smug Erika, as she stormed past her to shove the drawer closed. 

"So whose the baby daddy, Benny?" Erika asked, jittery inside at the new dirt she had on the girl. "I think this secret is far more worse than going to rehab, don't you think?"

Benny placed her hands on her hips, glaring at the girl. However, her expression softened and she sighed. "You can't tell anyone."

'Can't say I won't,' but Erika returned the girl's somber look with what she thought was a sympathetic look. She made a note to practice sympathy, it was the best strategy when getting the dirt. "When did you find out?"

"I think......I think it happened at the game after party," Benny admitted sheepishly, hand rubbing the nape of her neck.

"How?" Erika asked, trying not to grimace at the thought of what had happened to her that night - and what had been repeated that day. "Brett was with Mia all night."

"But then she left and we talked and - ugh, I don't want to talk about it." She groaned.

"So you're pregnant with a Richers' baby," Erika thought aloud. That baby was going to be the most luckiest person alive. With one parent heir to a major fashion corporation - Benny - and another heir to the biggest law firm in Los Angeles, they were going to be set for life.

"Erika, you can't tell anyone," Benny pleaded, brown eyes desperate and Erika liked how even the most toughest person could fear her. "I'm serious, okay? If this gets out, my parents are going to cut me off forever and when I say forever, I mean send me off to a Cherokee reservation in fucking Idaho."

"Ew, you'd look even more disgusting in Idaho."

"Exactly! Wait.....you bitch." She scolded after processing Erika's words.