The next day, I decide to walk home. The trip is only about half an hour, and my mom doesn't usually get home until later. As I trudge down the sidewalk, I pull out my phone, texting Alex so he doesn't come to pick me up. He doesn't respond, but I keep walking.

I stare up at the houses as I tread slowly along the sidewalk, analyzing all of them. My mother has been to parties at most of the residences, and/or invited the owners to one of her own.

The spacious house at the corner is a rental owned by Elspeth Johnston. Mrs. Johnston and her husband are both retired movie stars and now live in a penthouse in Central Park West, New York. My mother appreciates the fact that they are rich, but she also has something against living in New York, the reason for which is beyond me.

The house next door is surprisingly small for Beverly Hills. The current resident is the actress I look up to most, instead of my mother, which shouldn't be too hard to believe. Her name is Roxanne Darvis and she is a twenty-three-year-old woman who is quite introverted, like me. I have only seen her at a few parties, most often crouching in the corner, devouring some kind of pastry. My mother often avoids inviting her to parties, since Roxanne apparently "doesn't show much confidence in her acting." In other words, she doesn't wear enough makeup or scandalous clothing, which are the most important aspects of a movie star in my mother's opinion.

When I finally arrive home from another exhausting day of avoiding Austin, I plop my messenger bag onto the island in the dining room, then fall back onto the couch, closing my eyes for a mid-afternoon rest.

"Micah Elizabeth Tanner!" my mother shouts from the basement/lounge.

I heave a huge sigh, then stand back up, combing my fingers through the loose hair. I pull off my sweater to leave me in a burgundy tank top. It's so hot today, even the inside of my mom's air-conditioned mansion is smoldering with heat. I don't know why I wore a sweater in the first place.

On the stairs to the basement, I am stopped by a brown-haired, tall man. He looks familiar, but I've never seen him before.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask, confused by the fact that my mom would invite some random man into her house without my knowing. She usually notifies me whenever someone will be visiting, mostly so I have time to make sure my door is not operational by the time they arrive.

"Micah," the man says, smiling as though he knows me very well. "You look just Lolo."

"Who the hell are you?" I repeat, my eyes fixed on his face. I notice a small amount of stubble surrounding his mouth, extended by thin sideburns traced up his cheekbones. His dark eyes are earnest, yet still smiling. "And what did you just call my mother?"

The man grins devilishly. "Old habits die hard I guess. "

"Mom?" I shout down the stairs, giving up on my previous question. He's probably another one my mom's one night stands, stubbornly refusing to leave after their one night. "There's a strange man calling you Lolo."

My mom emerges from the lounge, looking tired, her makeup slightly smeared. Must have been a boring day. When she sees the man, however, she seems to completely change moods.

"Miles Lachowski!" she shouts, arrogance in her tone. "What are you doing in my house? You don't pay a single penny of child support. And how did you even get in here?"

Miles smirks. "The front door was unlocked. And, if memory serves, you clearly stated that you didn't want a single penny of child support."

My confusion grows as they jabber on, bickering like an old married couple. "Mom!" I interrupt at last. "Who is this?"

My mother turns to look at me, but instead of answering my question, she glares and accuses me of leaving the door unlocked.

I can't believe this. My mother always tells me when something is up. So why not now?

"Enjoying motherhood, Lolo?" Miles taunts. I hate him already, no matter who he is.

My mother narrows her eyes at the man, sighing deeply. It's not difficult to imagine steam hissing out her ears.

"LAUREN!" I shout at the top of my lungs, demanding to be heard. I only call my mother by her first name when she doesn't respond to anything else.

Silence finally greets me, and both adults turn to stare at me, their faces suddenly blank.

I gesture with my eyeballs towards the man beside my mom, asking silently this time. My mother exhales loudly as if she is trying to gather up the courage to tell me.

"He's your father, Micah," she says quietly, not meeting my gaze.

I'm dumbstruck. My father. The man who supposedly didn't know I existed. The man who is supposed to be a Turkish prince. The man who got my mom pregnant and never bothered to see me again. I gulp.

"Wh - why did you come back?" I stammer, amazement, confusion, and anger swirling around in at the same time, creating a deadly potion of emotions.

Miles tilts his head back in laughter. "Why, my dear," he says, "I believe that your mother—" he shoots a glare at my mom "—has not been giving sufficient childcare."

He attempts to pull his fingers through my dirty hair, but I toss my head, shaking him off. Just because you came in here claiming to be my father. Doesn't mean you can coddle me right off the bat.

"Miles," my mom says assertively. "You can leave now."

The man chuckles. "Thanks for the offer, Lolo," he teases. "But I'll pass."

My mother purses her lips, lowering he chin to glare as intensely as possible at Miles. I push away the instinct to plug my ears, knowing an outburst in surely coming. "LEAVE!" she erupts, the sound like a mountain blowing its top.

Miles obeys, scurrying up the stairs and out the door. Before he slams it, I hear him mutter something about wives. Then I hear the sound of an engine startup, and then he pulls away, tires screeching.

Sighing, I turn to my mom, grinding my teeth.

She stares back at me, then turns and trots down the stairs, saying, "I'm going to call Alex."

I watch as she turns the corner into the lounge, then I tread up the carpeted steps, steering myself into the kitchen. I open the fridge and grab a whole carton of chocolate milk. I chug half it, then stick it back in the door. I notice my mother's purse on the counter, so I stride over to it. Unzipping the bag, I grab a twenty dollar bill, stashing it in the pocket of my capris. My mom has so much money, she won't miss it. Besides, she's always trying to give me money anyway.

I snatch up my phone from the couch on my way out of the house. Closing and locking the door, I skip down the steps onto the sidewalk. The moon is full tonight, and it brightly illuminates the street. I walk slowly down the road, and although my mind it full, I have no destination in mind.