02

#####02

Run. Run while you still have the chance, my conscience was begging me.

« Uh, Bronte ? » I answer unsurely. Didn’t he know who was staying at his house for the next five weeks ?

« You don’t seem so sure about that, » I hear his muffled voice state and I let out a small laugh. I hear footsteps pad across the floor and my stomach does flips. Oh goodness, please don’t punch me. I hear a click and the door swings open, where I am met with a shirt-less Blake Parker.

I guess my fate wasn’t so bad after all.

My eyes subconsciously scan over his body. Seeing him up close only ignited my miniature-crush on him. His defined abs… strong jawline… intense hazel eyes… brown hair styled in a sexy mess… knowing smirk…

Oh god, I’ve been caught red-handed.

« You done checking me out yet ? » he asks with a sly smile.

I don’t think I’ll ever be done checking you out, to be completely honest.

« Give me a minute, » I reply jokingly but I secretly wasn’t joking. I hear him laugh and my gaze finally meets his.

Blake’s eyes flicker with recognition before his eyes narrow. « You, » he scoffs in annoyance.

I’m not too shocked by his cold greeting. He’s so tough and rebellious, whereas I’m quite the opposite. I expected this much from a guy like him. He dislikes anything cheerful and merry, and here I am. But hey, on the plus side, he hasn’t punched me yet.

« Me, » I laugh nervously.

« So you’re the girl staying at my house for the next month ? » he frowns.

Wow. It’s so great to see that he’s welcomed me with open arms – And to think that I was going to greet him with open legs !

Just kidding !

Not really.

« Yes, don’t sound so excited, » I reply sarcastically. He doesn’t respond again, so I continue. « Look, I’m sorry for interrupting whatever you were up to, but your mom wants you to have lunch with us. »

« Tell her I said fuck off, » he states, his eyes carefully watching my reaction, as if testing me. I doubt Blake would ever say something so mean to his own mother. Marisa may be nice, but I’m sure that if Blake ever did something like that, she wouldn’t hesitate to put him in his place.

« I can’t say that to your mom, » I reply with a nervous laugh, « It’s rude. »

He doesn’t reply to that and his eyes begin to scan my face. They then lower down my body dreadfully slow and I fidget under his gaze. I’m beginning to regret not making any effort in looking nice and choosing to wear merely tracksuit shorts and a plain singlet top.

« Well… that’s slightly anti-climatic, » his eyes avert to mine, « When mom said a girl was staying at our house for the next 5 weeks, I was hoping she’d be somewhat decent looking. You got my hopes up, Bronte. »

My awkward smile immediately wipes off my face. I know I shouldn’t take such a comment to heart, but I can’t help it. I force myself to smile back at him and clear my throat, « Well, we can’t always get what we want, I’m afraid. »

His eyebrows furrow and his mouth opens and then closes as he struggles to find the words to reply. Then, his eyes darken and a frown tugs at his lips. « Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated and you are really starting to piss me off, » I open my mouth to explain that I wasn’t being sarcastic, but he cuts me off, « Unless you want to have a hard time throughout your stay here, then your peppy little ass will leave me the fuck alone because I want nothing to do with you, » he speaks to me in a calm yet firm voice. I’d like to say at this point I was fuming and on the verge of slapping him, but, to be honest, I wasn’t. I was scared out of my mind. I open my mouth to respond, and then close it. Now it was my turn to be at a loss for words. I stare back at the boy watching me intently and suddenly, instead of fear, I feel sympathy.

He’s so miserable and grumpy all the time. Is he okay ?

I was tempted to ask him if he was okay because he didn’t look very happy right now and, now that I think about it, neither did he around school. I didn’t question it, though. He probably wouldn’t appreciate it and I didn’t want to tick him off any further. I still want to stay alive, guys. Baby steps.

My stomach churns sickly as a wave of nausea and bad memories wash over me. As I watch him glare down at me, I decide right on the spot that I have to do something about it. I can’t fail again.

I smile slightly, « Oh. Okay. I’ll give you your space, but because I am living with you we are going to have to get along, so this won’t be our last conversation, » I assure him. Reassured by my own words, I straighten up, feeling a pinch of confidence. I know that eventually we’ll have to get along, or if not that, we’ll tolerate each other… It just takes a little time.

His face twists into a look of confusion and then he sighs defeatedly, stepping away and letting out a breath of frustration. I take this as my chance to start up a conversation… maybe get to know him ?

« So, » I drawl, « you go to Worthington… »

« Piss off. »

Don’t do it Bronte. Don’t say it don’t say it don’t say it, no. No- !

« Are you flirting with me ? » I grin.

Oh for Christ’s sake, Bronte ! You can’t go one second without embarrassing yourself, you fool ! You know, sometimes, I’m embarrassed to be you.

His eyebrows draw together in confusion and I internally smack myself at my attempt of a joke. He clearly isn’t one to laugh or joke around.

« Yeah, okay I’m leaving, » I reply, turning and hurrying away hastily.

As I walk away, though, a newfound determination develops within me, one that can quite possibly have me sent into a mental institution.

I am going to befriend Blake Parker.

« And this is your room, » Marisa states, pushing the door open to reveal a small, cosy bedroom.

The walls are a soft, cream colour and there is a big window that lets the bright afternoon sunlight lighten the room. Standing centre of it is a queen-sized bed draped in a cream quilt and accessorised with hundreds of colourful, decorative pillows, and sitting at each side of the bed are two wooden bedside tables with old-looking lamps sitting on each of them.

« This is lovely, Marisa, » I smile, dragging my suitcase next to the bed as my eyes dance around the room. Marisa brings the other suitcase next to the one I’m holding and props it up onto its wheels.

« There’s also an ensuite, » she informs me, opening the wooden door and flicking on the ensuite’s light switch. « Is there anything you need ? » she spins on her heels to turn back to me, « Any toiletries, food… ? » she trails off and raises her eyebrows questioningly.

« No, I’m good, thank you, » I smile.

Satisfied, she departs the room, allowing me some time to settle in. I flop onto the bed and sink into the mattress, breathing in the fresh coconut scent of washed sheets.

Staying in this house will be a breeze. Well, with one monumental exception, that is – Blake. However, that might not be such a problem if I can somehow get him to open up to me. It’ll be hard work, I imagine.

For the next ten minutes, I begin to unpack my suitcases, placing all my clothes into the wooden chest of drawers. I then put my makeup bag and toiletry kit in the ensuite, a laptop on my bedside table, speakers and my favourite perfume on top of my chest of drawers, and a tired me plopped on my bed.

Once my heart beat has slowed to a normal pace and I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out any second, I sit up and grab my laptop. I haven’t done much work over the week, which means that I have a fair amount of homework and assessments to complete, especially since it’s four weeks till the end of school and our teachers have ever-so generously decided to make all assessments due within the same week.