Page 8 of Trailer Park Princess

Tomorrow I'll belong somewhere.

As I get ready for bed, I count the water stains on my ceiling again.

One. Two. Three. Four.

But somehow, it doesn't bother me as much as it did this morning.

Chapter 2

ELLIE

Age Twelve

"We're gonna berich."

Kade's declaration echoes through the RV as he paces back and forth, his hands moving like he's already counting money that doesn't exist yet.

Four years in this dump and he still talks like we're one brilliant scheme away from ruling the world. Or at least Creekside Estates, which is basically the same thing when you're a kid and your entire universe consists of dreams too big for your neighborhood.

"Think about it," Kade continues as I sit cross-legged on our worn couch, trying not to laugh as he outlines his latest master plan. His gray eyes are bright and intense, which means we're about to do somethingspectacularlystupid. "These assholes keep vandalizing shit around here. Mrs. Cove's garden gnomes?Smashed. Mr. Baldwin's truck tires?Slashed. Someone needs to protect this place."

"That's called a protection racket," Cyrus says dryly without looking up from whatever he's doing on his ancient laptop. The one he "found" behind the electronics store last month. His glasses reflect the screen's glow like a supervillain. "The mob does it all the time. Pay us or bad things happen to your property."

"Exactly!" Kade snaps his fingers and points at Cyrus, who just heaves a tired sigh. "We'll be the mob of Creekside Estates!”

I snort. “The mob of a trailer park. I’msointimidated.”

“Shut up, Princess,” he says, but there's no heat in it. There never is anymore. Not for me, at least. It took Kade a while to warm up to the idea of having a girl in his "kingdom," but I'm pretty sure if I stopped hanging out with them, he'd be the first to beg me to come back. Or drag me back. "We charge everyone a few bucks a week, we keep an eye on their shit, everyone's happy."

"And if they don't pay?" I ask, even though I already know where this is going.

Kade's grin turns sharp. "Then maybe we can't guarantee their garden gnomes stay intact."

"You want to become the vandals to stop the vandals." I shake my head, laughing. "Brilliant."

"It's called creating demand," he shoots back. "Business 101."

Jinx's fingers work through my hair, braiding it while he listens in slightly amused silence to Kade's grand plans. He's gotten good at this over the years, says it relaxes him. I don't tell him that having someone play with my hair makes me feel safe. Some things are better left unsaid, even between us.

My mom used to braid my hair, but she's working so much at the diner lately, I barely ever see her anymore. She leaves before I walk to school, and she comes home most nights after I've given up on trying to keep my eyes open.

"So what, that makes you the Don?" Cyrus asks Kade, sounding bored as usual.Deliberatelybored, probably in a vain attempt to suck some of the wind out of Kade’s sails.

"Obviously." Kade puffs out his chest like a rooster, jabbing a thumb at it. "I'm the one with the vision."

"Who's Don?" Jinx's hands pause in my hair. "And why would you want to be him?"

Cyrus actually looks up from his laptop to stare at Jinx. "Are you serious right now?"

"What?"

"It's not a name, dumbass," Kade says, exasperated. “Are you even paying attention? It's a job title. Like, the boss of bosses. The guy who runs everything.”

"Don't call him a dumbass," I say automatically.

"Yeah, don't call me a dumbass," Jinx echoes, tugging my braid-in-progress playfully.

Kade's jaw tightens the way it does when he wants to argue but knows better. Four years and he still hasn't figured out that I don't make requests, I issue verdicts. "Fine. Whatever. Theintellectually averageindividual doesn't know what a Don is."