Waverly June
I let my housekeeper’s son, Blake Livingston, stay at my house. Instead, he went to school and stole my identity, pretending to be me.
One afternoon, our housekeeper, Fanny Livingston, brought food to school. When I reached for one of the containers, Blake said sarcastically, "Finn, this is the food my family’s housekeeper made for me. I may treat you like a brother, but that doesn’t mean you can just help yourself."
Listening to our classmates whisper about me, I knew that in my previous life, I would have simply walked away. I wouldn’t even have bothered explaining myself.
Unfortunately for him, I’d been reborn.
Right in front of everyone, I dumped his lunch over his head.
"You stay in my house for a few days, and suddenly you think you’re some rich kid? And your family has a housekeeper? Your mom barely makes enough working as one herself. You think she can afford to hire a housekeeper?"