Entered: Writing Contest

So, there was this writing contest I saw, and I decided to enter it.
And believe it or not it’s the first writing contest I’ve ever entered.
At leas that I can remember. 
Anyway, it was like for the beginning of a story, and was supposed to be under 500 words.
I thought I’d share my entry with you. Comment and tell me what you think!
Beautiful Summer!
{Taken by my ‘adopted’ mom}

“Ok. And you mean?” Tilting my head a little to the left and putting my hands on my hips I tried to appear confident, like I was in control. It didn’t work. 
“Rats!” Snapping my fingers, I stood up straight and tall and tried again, “Mr. Arrington, would you be disposed to talk over this proposition with me first?” 
“Emilia, that’s not cutting it.” 
Looking away from my reflection in the mirror, I grimaced, “Well what in the world am I supposed to say, Leah?” 
“Here’s a hint for starters: Don’t refer to your uncle as Mr. Arrington. Good way to get off on a bad foot. Second of all, just be yourself. I know you don’t agree with me, but with your blue eyes and innocent freckled face, people like to please you. And besides, the sassy ‘confident’ look really doesn’t go.” 
“So you’re telling me I’m just supposed to say something like, ‘Hey Uncle Wade, I really don’t want to move in with you; the rich and famous lifestyle has never my thing. Can I just keep living in South America for the rest of my live-long-days?’” I plopped down on the bed. “Because I truly can’t see myself telling him that to his face.” 
“Yeah, I would try and go a little bit easier on him. He is your dad’s brother after all.” 
Was you mean. Was his brother. And now he’s my guardian.” Letting out a long, frustrated sigh I ran my hands though my honey blonde hair. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate Uncle Wade, I do. I just don’t see myself living with him and Aunt Jenna. They’re so proper. And rich.” 
“And they have a cute son.” 
Scowling at Leah, I pointed out the obvious fact, “He’s my cousin.” 
“Right.” Reaching over, Leah gave me a half hug. “Rich isn’t always bad you know.” 
“I didn’t say rich was bad, I’m just said I’m not used to it.” 
“Imagine this: A huge bedroom of your own. With a fireplace. Servants to cater to your every whim. Fancy ball gowns to go along with the-”
“Glass slippers I’m going to be wearing?” Frowning over at my best friend I gave a decided shake of my head. “My uncle may be rich, but that doesn’t mean he’s still living back in the 1800’s. They’re modern, ok?” 
“I’m trying to cheer you up.” 
“Maybe I don’t want to be cheered up.” 
“Then that’s your problem.”
  Leah and I sat there, giving each other our deadliest looks until Leah suddenly broke into peals of glee-filled laughter. 
“Do you realize that we’re wasting some of our precious remaining moments with each other in a glaring contest? Let’s go have fun!” 

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