Chapter Text
Beep Beep, Beep Beep.
She rises out of bed, slamming her alarm quiet. She lets out a long yawn as she stretches her arms far above her head. What time is it? 3am? Perfect. She hops out of bed, each foot making contact with the fur rug spread underneath her bed. She shakes her jet black hair out of her silk head scarf, letting it fall on her shoulders right before she steps into the shower. She washes herself with an assortment of lavender-scented shampoos, conditioners, and body scrubs, until she's as smooth as the waxed spruce underneath their dining room table. Atop which an assortment of grab and go breakfast items are placed, she grabs a banana and sits, crossing her legs as she peels the banana.
"Why do we always have to eat like poor people on travel days?"
"Because if we don't you and your sister take forever to finish," her Dad answers from the bottom of the stairwell, hauling their luggage down. "Where is Katie anyways?"
"I heard her shuffling around her room when I walked past, she should be down here any minute," she answers, taking a bite of her banana, she closes her eyes for a couple of seconds, fantasizing she was still in bed. That is until she hears the signature clacking of her mom's heels hitting the Italian marble of the kitchen floor.
"Sofia Ramirez Villanova, I must be dreaming, do you actually have your eyes closed?" Her mother looks up, her arms outstretched, "Oh lord help me, my daughter is going to give me a heart attack if we miss this flight," her mother chirps as she runs around the kitchen grabbing their prescriptions out of the medication cabinet and putting them into travel-sized Ziplocs.
"Mom!" Sofia exclaims, "Why do you always have to be so dramatic, its still barely 4 in the morning and its our plane that we're flying on."
"And last time Sofia, it was your hair curl cream that almost made us miss our takeoff slot, remember that? So now you'll have all the time in the world to make us take a 45 minute U-turn back to the house so that you won't go without your hair products, for what was it, three days?
"And two nights," her Dad adds, deadpanning as her mom slips the aforementioned Ziplocs into her teal Birkin bag. "Really would've been a disaster if you forget it, wouldn't have been, sweetie?"
"Jeez, I've already said sorry, mom," Sofia answers, flushing from embarrassment.
"Sorry doesn't cut it for making us fly coach," her mom responds, wagging her finger towards Sofia. Having enough of being the butt of their every joke about being late, Sofia storms outside and gets in the back of her dad's Rolls Royce. The door is heavy and slams shut with a oppressive thud, the inside of the car is nice and quiet, letting Sofia drift off for a few minutes. She stirs as her Dad loads the luggage into the trunk, hearing the heavy bag's metallic case clang against the trunk floor. Katie and her mom file out of the house, making their way towards the car, Katie sits down on the driver's side passenger seat, with her mom up front. Before long, the brilliantly pearlescent navy Rolls Royce is rolling down the 405, heading from Brentwood down south to LAX, floating over all the bumps and cracks in the roadway.
"Mom," Sofia's mom looks back from the front seat, looking away from her bright phone screen, "why do we always have to Thanksgiving in Seattle, why can't they ever come down here?"
"Oh sweetie," her mother coos, "You know your grandparents live up north, they wouldn't be the Northwest's if they didn't live in the Northwest."
"Ugh, I hate being a Northwest," her mother, ever dramatic, gasped, and it seems like the energy of the car is vacuumed away, leaving a void.
Her mother turns back to the passenger seat, enraged, "You take that back missy, being a Northwest has afforded you so much."
"I mean yeah, but I feel like the rest of the family treats me and Katie differently, just because we're not perfectly white with blue eyes and blonde hair," her mother immediately diffuses, her expression relaxing and seeming regretful. Her mother sighs, turning back forward and cupping the side of her own face.
"Yes, I know sweetie, but hopefully that can change soon, you know the family is old-fashioned."
"But it's not fair, that just because my skin is darker, I'm treated less than my cousins, like I do all the same things Pacifica does, but grandpa loves Pacifica and only begrudgingly likes me and Katie, I don't think he's even talking to us directly other than referring to our existence"
"Yeah, Sofia's right," Katie chimes in, "Thanksgiving sucks, and being a Northwest sucks too," to this her mother falls silent, lips pursed. Their mother, a white Northwest, married their father, a primarily Mexican man with a significantly more complex genetic complexion, much to the chagrin of the rest of the family. Over time, the family softened to their father, but they were finding that the deep-rooted racism in their family wasn't as easy to purge as they had once thought. Afterall, a family that rolled over indigenous peoples for their own personal gain weren't necessary going to be the most progressive.
At first, Sofia always felt bad for looking different, for being different, however, the hormone influx from puberty had given her perspective, filled her with anger that made her push back against these norms. Her little sister, Katie, only eight, had followed her lead, being similarly enraged and feisty.
Sofia loved Katie dearly, Katie is definitely her best friend, even though she was four years younger. Yes, the two were brats on occasion, but they didn't see it that way, they just had high standards for the things around them, just like the high standards they themselves were held to. That resulted in high standards for the people holding them to high standards. Sofia looked at herself in the reflection in the glass, is she so wrong to have almond skin, brown eyes, and dark hair? No, she thinks, absolutely not.
Not only was this a family thing, but also a school thing. Even though LA was diverse, the rich people weren't or at least they weren't at their private school, the Lexington Academy. Her and her sister stuck out like sore thumbs. In fact, they'd been relentlessly picked on, so while Sofia had been able to stand up for herself, and become an outcast, Katie was less fortunate, having her things relentlessly stolen and broken in front of her. It wasn't an alien sight to see Katie running towards Sofia, crying, knowing someone did something to her. Well, they used to get picked on, until Sofia broke the nose of one of Katie's bullies. Sofia remembers the scene vividly, she had walked into the A Wing girl's bathroom and seen the bullies forcing Katie up against the wall, in that moment a wave of rage possessed her, before she knew it, she had punched one bully in the mouth and struck another on the temple. While the one hit in the mouth had been able to escape, bloody mouth and all, the other had fallen to the floor, getting in a guard position kicking back at Sofia. Sofia had let her get on her feet before delivering the finishing blow, grabbing her face and shoving her into the hand dryer. Sofia didn't really understand what had happened as she watched blood seep onto the bathroom floor, the bully clutching their face, just that she had protected her little sister.
That was a good day... and a really bad day. Sofia was immediately pulled out of school, and for good reason, you don't just get to inflict severe bodily harm on your classmates. It had taken the Northwest Corporation stepping in and threatening the school's endowment for Sofia and Katie to be kept enrolled. Furthermore, the Corporation's excellent legal representation had shifted the case from an assault, to being a case about self-defense and whether the teachers had acted appropriately to the many concerns Sofia and Katie had brought up. Her mom told her the threat of civil rights litigation had really scared the school into taking their bullying seriously, hiring guards and stationing them all over the school to ensure no one else would ever be bullied in the same way. While the bullying had stopped, the estrangement had begun in its place, not that they weren't estranged before. But now, no one wanted anything to do with Sofia or even Katie for that matter, staying silent even when paired up with them during group projects. That's why when a Nigerian family moved into the neighborhood and enrolled their two daughters and one son into the school, Sofia and Katie were thrilled, finally finding some people to make friends with. Things were on the up for Sofia and Katie, at least for the moment.
The car hitting an uneven patch in the road snaps Sofia back to reality. Even with all the suspension dampening in the world, there are a few rough patches every now and then that make the car pitch wildly and feel like a rollercoaster. Look out the window, Sofia reminds herself, you can't get carsick if you're looking out the window. Sofia watches as the skyline passes beyond the professionally detailed window. The car takes the high overpass onto the 105, rising far above the industrial center by LAX. Sofia looks out the driver side window, across the car from her, and looks at the Boeing Complex right next to the airport, admiring the skyscraper as stands beside the elevated highway. Soft classical music pours from the priceless sound system, giving each Villanova car ride a refined, royal feel. Every now and then her dad would put on the radio and let them listen to pop, but only when their mom wasn't in the car. Can't let her know he's poisoning her children's minds. Before long they were being waved through the checkpoint and let through to their terminal. The jet itself is white, with the wings and stabilizers painted in a dull gold, giving the jet the intended a type of soulless corporate feel that only an accountant could appreciate. The pilots are there to greet her father and let them onto the plane, helping Katie and Sofia up the steep airstairs. Before long the plane is pushing back with the four Villanova's on the plane, the loud and powerful A/C kicking on and blasting the passengers with ice-cold air
As the Learjet's engines spool up, Sofia gazed to her right, out the plane's window, watching as the sun cast a gentle orange hue on the cloud cover above. Each engine lets out a dragon's roar as the plane barrels down the runway in excess of 200 miles per hour. Sofia braces herself as the plane leaves the ground, feeling her brain press against the bottom of her skull, the g-forces forcing her down in her seat. She subconsciously digs her fingers into the plush armrests, holding on for dear life as the plane vigorously climbs to reach its cruising altitude. She looks across the aisle, watching her mother recline and close her eyes, and hearing her father clacking away at his laptop, no doubt working on the plethora of spreadsheets he would sometimes show the sisters. Speaking of her sister, Katie is flagging down the attendant to ask for their customary glass of champagne, or rather, sip of champagne. It was a secret treat their father let them have whenever their mother was asleep on the jet, which was often because her mother absolutely hated flying. Her father would also get a glass and always turn back, a cheeky smile lining his face as he presses a finger against his lips to remind the sisters of their secret.
A Villanova secret.
One secret had been weighing heavily on Sofia, the fact that her and her sister were going to be shipped off to live with Pacifica's family soon. There comes a time where every Northwest, no matter their location, has to attend the Northwest Academy, and that time was soon approaching for the sisters. It isn't really supposed to be a secret, her mom having told her a month ago, but that coincided with Katie getting a boyfriend, Sam, the son in the Nigerian family. Sofia had promised herself to tell Katie before their Thanksgiving trip but couldn't quite bring herself to do it. Sofia would feel this uneasy panic creep up on her as soon as she walked up to Katie, which made her defer until later, and later, and later, until here they were on their trip. Sofia involuntarily smiles remembering the two holding hands during recess and walking around, doing whatever it was that 8-year-old couples did. A moment that would've been cuter had the couple not had to be stalked by a security guard to ensure that a hate crime wouldn't occur on the Lexington campus. Ugh, bigots, Sofia thinks, letting out a long sigh that catches her dad's attention, who immediately swivels his chair to face Sofia.
"What's on your mind," he asks, closing the laptop and folding his hands over the top of its cover.
"Nothing," Sofia mumbles, they've had this same conversation many times, talking about the racists and how the worst thing you can do is letting them get under your skin. Even still, that doesn't really undo the long stares, the awkwardness when put into groups with people who hate you and definitely doesn't make the fact that they need a security detail just to feel safe at school feel any better.
"Well, at least you'll be in a new place soon," her father reassures, "Portland may not be more diverse, but it definitely is more tolerant, and plus you'll have Pacifica on your side, she practically runs the school."
"What's to say that Pacifica isn't one of them?" Her dad takes in the question, straightening out in his chair while taking in a deep breath. "Plus, her parents have been racist towards you too," she adds, her father nodding as he intakes this new information.
"I would sincerely doubt that Pacifica is like her parents," her father offers, scratching his stubble.
"How come?"
"I remember talking to her father, Preston, a while ago and he says she's been on a rebellious streak," he answers, "plus, with how her parents are, I doubt that they're really paying that much attention to her considering they've got a lot on their plate ever since squandering their part of the Northwest Fortune. So, if anything, I would expect her parents to be really nice to you, to Katie, hell, even to me. They've lost a lot of favor in the family since the whole Weirdmaggedon fiasco."
"Weirdmaggedon?" her father leans back in his chair and smiles.
"Don't even worry about it, its a whole thing," he defers, "Your going to do just fine in Portland, and if there's anything on your mind while your there, just call me, I'll make sure to pick up, ok?"
Sofia nods her head, "Even late at night?"
"Of course, I'll always be there for you, even if I'm not physically there," he consoles, taking a swig of his champagne.
"Thanks, Dad," Sofia adds, copying him and taking a sip of her champagne, "I can't believe people drink this to celebrate things."
"Trust me, this is by far the best tasting alcohol you'll ever have, the rest of it is just sugar mixed with," he leans in, "piss," chuckling as he leans back in his chair. He swivels his chair back forward and resumes his work, Sofia hearing the clacking of the keyboard as another S&P 500 company got their books straightened out. Her father had been pretty successful even prior to marrying into the Northwest's, but afterwards his career seems supercharged, his boutique firm landing large clients like it was nothing. Sofia barely remembers their old house, somewhere in San Bernadino County, but now they lived in Brentwood in a house way too big for the family, in a neighborhood where the average homeowner was a doctor, lawyer, director, or, in her dad's case, an accountant. Her father's firm had been purchased by Deloitte pretty recently, which had further enriched the Villanova's, now instead of being moderately wealthy, as they had been, they'd become filthy rich, but with working-class habits. Like driving their own cars to the places, they had to go, picking their own clothes, or, God forbid, cleaning their own house. Shivering, aren't you? Well, as working-class as you can get while still owning a superyacht. The money had been a large part of their parents' decision to send them up to Portland, Preston and Priscilla didn't quite know it yet but they were moving into a larger house as to accommodate Katie and Sofia. The new house had the Northwests (and Villanovas) had decided to purchase was in Dunthorpe, Portland's premier neighborhood, just a short drive away from the Northwest Academy in Riverdale. Their new house was going to be stunning, being placed right on the Willamette river, it was a monstrous 15,000 square feet, with 8 bathrooms and 8 bedrooms. Definitely an upgrade from the suburban 5 bedroom house the Northwest's were currently rotting in. Sofia had found it quite funny that despite being 3 times the size of her family's house, that the new house had been a third of the price. Guess it pays to be in LA.
Sofia looks over to her left, seeing her sister slumped back in her chair, snoozing as a plush white blanket was thrown over the top of her by the flight attendant. Sofia remembers that she has homework to do but is uninterested in even touching her geometry. Plus, it wasn't like she was even going to turn it in, to her knowledge she was never even going to step on the Lexington Campus. Thank God. Instead, she decides to pull her iPad from her backpack and watch more Total Drama Island. She presses the power button, and the screen stays off, dang it, I forgot to charge it last night. Considering that she went to bed at 6pm, she gives herself a break, it's not the end of the world, her dad probably has a charger.
Just as she gets up, the plane hits a rough patch of turbulence, almost sending Sofia flying had it not been for her dad grabbing a hold of her arm as she fell forward. Her dad begrudgingly gives her a charger and sends her back to her seat when the plane clears the rough patch, keeping her safe with a hand around her waist in the meantime. Equipped with her Total Drama Island, a small bag of trail mix, and a water bottle, she gets through a few episodes before the plane touches down in Seattle.
Sofia wonders whether they've touched down in Washington or Alaska considering the sheer number of Alaskan planes she sees during the taxi to the terminal. Upon stepping off the plane, they're greeted by two Northwest Lincoln Town cars ready to whisk them to their grandparents' house. Katie and their mom head off in one, Sofia and her dad in the other. The ride is uneventful, the two passengers falling asleep shortly into the drive. Sofia always tries to sleep on car rides, getting notoriously carsick when anyone other than her dad drives the car. Sofia stirs as the car slows on the narrow, wooded roads that house the ultra-wealthy of Seattle, or rather, Medina. For the last ten minutes of the drive, Sofia rolls down the window wards off any possible carsickness by taking in the fresh, crisp, lakeside breeze against her skin. Before long they reach the distinct NW, the gates automatically swinging open letting them into the court with a humongous fountain. As they pull up to the door of the house, Sofia peers outside the car window and takes in the ginormous building that stands outside. The 31,298 square foot house is more of office building than house, housing (pun unintended but welcomed) their annual planning meetings. The husbands and her uncles would sit at one long conference table and strategize every move for the Northwest Corporations 200 or so subsidiaries, discussing such enthralling topics as, how to make more money, and... that's it! Oh, and family affairs, but her father didn't tell her too much about those, all she knew was Uncle Preston was in hot water and that Uncle James was the new big bad wolf in town.
And if she knew anything, she knew Uncle James was trouble.