Teen Drama

"What do you want, Dane?" I shove his overly heavy arm from my shoulder and elbow him in the ribs to get him off me. I can't stand his lounging on me casually like I'm another one of his endless girlfriends.

"Can't I walk my sister into school without being accused of ulterior motives?" He smirks down at me from his much taller height, too close for comfort, all bright white teeth, great bone structure, and grey eyes that seem to drive the hormonal teens here crazy. It grinds my eternal gears with irritation.

"For one, I'm only your sister when you want something. Two … you always have a motive when you are being nice to me." I point out, shrugging off his second attempt at slinging an arm around me and batting him with my schoolbag instead. Not caring if I injure him in any way. I’d rather not have him near me on any given day of the week.

"Kayla, honey….sweetest little step-sibling of mine. You are my favorite sister and always have been. How can you be so untrusting?" he smirks, that devilish side on show.

"I'm your only sister… only step-sibling. Therefore, that doesn't mean anything. I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you, and with your weight, that wouldn’t be far at all." I walk faster to outrun him, annoyed that other students are starting to notice their godlike leader has appeared and his fan club of moping girls are waving this way. Eyes on us – prying, gossiping.

The one thing I hate about high school is the non-original behavior and cliché groups of kids like this who flock to a handsome face and good body and treat him them a superstar for winning the gene lottery. It’s sad that even in 2022, we still value people on how good-looking they are.

"Kayla…. baby. Don't make me pull out the big guns." Dane catches me by the back of my shoulders in a strong grip, bringing me to a sudden halt, and spins me so fast I almost topple over and end up nose-butting him in the center of his overly amped-up chest from too much gym time. It feels like I get my face splatted against brick, and my eyes water over with the sudden stinging pain it causes.

"Ouch!" I snap in irritation, shoving him hard in the abs to make him move back, shaking him off my shoulders to rub my face, and glaring at him with fury beginning to grow. An internal brewing storm of anger because normally, I prefer my mornings to be Dane-free.

"What is it? What now? Spit it out and leave me alone before kids actually think we like each other. I know you want something, as it’s the only time you bother acknowledging my existence!" I stomp at him and fix my bag and blazer, smoothing out clothes to avoid the way he's eyeing me up in that practiced playboy manner he has. He's in full seduction mode, the charm and smiles for my benefit are fake, and he has a request I will refuse.

He straightens up, pats me on both shoulders, then brushes imaginary dust off my lapel before fixing a smile on his face and tilting his head to look cute. My stomach tightens with rage, and I narrow my eyes further. I’m no stranger to his tactics. I see him use them all day long on his line of playthings.

"Add my name to your project notes. So I don't fail another class. I'll grant you any wish you desire, my sweet little munchkin…. and I won’t tell anyone you’re still a virgin." He beams full charm offensive, that last insult thrown in because he can never truly veer from being an asshole, yet I scowl back.

It may be true, but I hate that he always uses it as a weapon whenever his charms fail.

"No… you were supposed to help in the group project you were in. You didn't. You slack off, do nothing, and expect credit for a grade you don't even care about. No…No…NO! Take your threats and go away. I don’t care. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, even at seventeen." I push him away, turn fast so my hair flicks him in the neck, and move to storm off, but he lassoes me from behind in a headlock and hauls me back against a hard body, trapping me and nearly choking me at the same time.

"Koolaboo….. little sis… pure untouched goodness and light….. Dad says if I don't pull my grades up, he will pack me off to live with my mom in London to go to some stuffy private school. You'd miss me."

"No, I wouldn't." I wriggle to escape him to no avail. Getting flustered and wrinkled and despising him all the more.

Dane sighs, tucking his head against my cheek from behind forcefully and cuddling up annoyingly so that he has a few heads turning our way in confusion. I can’t ever fight him off when he gets handsy, given he’s over six feet of pure muscle, and I am barely clearing five foot four of not much body fat. Everyone knows Dane and I are always at one another's throats, so this show of affection is strange.

I'm even weirded out by being trapped in his biceps and suffocated with whatever shower gel or aftershave combo he uses. It's not bad. It's one of those smells that makes you forget how to think properly and clings to your senses after he walks off. I swear this boy's entire style, persona, and manner is a practiced tick list of how to be the school hot boy, making my skin crawl. We couldn't be any more different if we tried.

"Let me go.” I squirm and fight, but his limbs only tighten, and I become almost immobile. “People are staring."

"Say yes or I'll keep us like this all the way into class and maybe even amp it up some more. I'm not against sitting you in my lap. It’s about time I declared my love for my sister and showed her so much more affection."

"I hate you," I grit through my teeth, shuffling forward awkwardly with this dead weight on my back as he does not attempt to walk properly and cannot get free. “I swear, Dane, I will suffocate you in your sleep if you do not let me go. My room is right next to yours. I know how to get in without waking you.” No amount of wriggling, struggling, and jerking loosen his octopus limbs.

“I’m into that, but I never took you for a kinky one, Lil sis.” He bumps my butt with his groin, and I yelp in disgust and attempt a stamp at his foot, but he’s too quick for me.

“You’re disgusting.” I snort.

I hear the smirking breathy chuckle, which is almost his trademark nowadays, and I can envision a smug look even if I cannot see it.

"It's just adding one name… won't affect your grade or anyone else's. It will get dad off my back and less drama with your mom….we both know you hate drama at home." He croons, all husky-voiced, deep, and I know this is his baby way of swooning all the braindead girls he has his claws in. He is attempting to sway me, but he is right about stress at home.

Him and my mom butting heads twenty-four-seven since he moved in five months ago has made home tense and a horrible place to be when they are together. His dad has zero control over him and lets him do whatever he wants, while my mum is an endless nag. His dad is overcompensating for divorcing his mother, and my mom hates everything about how he has been raised. Everything about how he talks, walks, dresses, behaves, lives…. you name it, and my mom will find fault in him. Home used to be my haven; now, I feel like it’s become a battle zone, which is partly why I cannot stand him.

"For god's sake. Will you go away and leave me alone for the next two years if I say yes? Let me graduate without crossing paths again, and let me have a quiet life?"

There’s a pause as he considers it, and then he loosens a little.

"Maybe. We're in the same classes, so…. fuck it, sure. Say yeah, and I'll stay out of your way, Virgin."

That little thrown-in ‘nickname’ he has for me irks me and riles my already frayed temper. Being a virgin is not a sin or a crime and nothing to be ashamed of. He wouldn’t know, though, as he sleeps with everything that shows interest and only hangs out with girls who bang everyone too.

"You know, if you stopped screwing around and did the actual work, you wouldn't need to blackmail me and piggyback my grades whenever there's a group project. You're not stupid… your grades used to be better than mine. You just spend too much time looking in the mirror and dating brainless women." My tone is harsh and a little too loud for such a quiet morning in our school walkway, but he knows how to push my buttons.

He finally releases me, and I spin on him, shoving him hard in the chest, but it does nothing. Not even a step back, all I get is that side smirk and wink as he brushes his hair out of his eye and lounges casually once more.

"And lose my excuse to cuddle up with my favorite girl? Hell no…. torturing you is my only joy in life. Anyway, why would I want to do a stupid thing like make my dad proud?" He shrugs with one shoulder and swings his backpack from one side to the other in a suave move that has the nearby coven of watchers swooning and probably dampening their panties. I eyeroll and turn on my heel to walk away from him. So done with this conversation and seething that yet again, I caved and agreed to something for this idiot just for a peaceful life. I hate that he knows how to get at me.

"Your rebellion is getting old and boring. It's been almost a decade, and you are still trying to disappoint him as punishment for marrying my mom…. Grow up. Some of us moved on." I sneer, angrily fixing my clothes, and brush my blonde flyaway tendrils of hair back into the messy bun on the top of my head.

"What’s the point in trying when he has my whole life mapped out anyway… my grades mean shit when my entire existence is set in stone, and my future is to sit in a chair for a company I don’t even care about?” It’s a sulky, sarcastic tone that drifts after me as he stops mid-walk. I carry on to get to class, casting him back a glance with a sigh, taking in the tall, athletic stance of a high schooler who met hormones earlier than most. Mixed with the good bone structure, great DNA, and a resemblance to his mom.

The jet black ‘idol’ hair flops forward over one side again, framing his tanned skin and great jawline with pale grey eyes. He does look like he should be on a teen girl magazine cover of bad boys you want to date but shouldn’t. The rumpled casual way he throws his uniform on and somehow makes it look trendy always irked me. Over his biker boots, which he wears religiously, and hints of tattoos he got purely to piss off his dad, peeking at every hint of skin on show. They match the hoops on one ear and the eyebrow and lip piercings as he watches me with an almost scowling expression, his mind clearly on his dad.

He looks like the kind of guy every father would steer their daughters away from, but his family name means somehow, the rich and successful overlook his behavior and style and willingly let their kids date him. Many of them, sometimes all at the same time.

He’s completely shameless.

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.” I shrug it off and leave him with his fan group as they slowly start to swarm him. His best friend saunters past me, the same swaggering walk as Dane, with a wink as he heads his way and gets an eyeroll in response. Another beefy hot boy, although that one isn’t as pierced and inked as my brother.

Tyler and Dane are those two kids every high school has. Hot, muscular jock types who pair up young and have this bromance where they do everything in sync and become legends for the less worthy. Sometimes even the same girls.

Both are tall and self-confident and know they are hot and irresistible to certain types of girls. One is blondish and athletic with green eyes, and the other is dark-haired and stockier with grey eyes. Stereotypical bad behaviors and crappy attitudes, although Tyler at least has good grades and seems a little wiser and more maturer than Dane.

They are just two leaders of a sad little huddle of popular kids that sneer down their noses at all the lesser beings among us. As seniors, we are meant to be above all that, but his gang still pushes around the less fortunate at times and makes me despise everything about all of them.

My life was great until his mom moved to London almost six months ago and insisted he stay here to finish school, which meant moving in with us. It sucks to be the sister of the school's popular bad boy when all I want to do is get through this with the best grades and acceptance to my chosen university. Keep my head down, focus on my future, and not get caught up in all the drama that comes from living under the same roof as Dane Masters.

The overdramatic sigh from my left pulls my eyes towards the swooning figure of my best friend, Elisa, stepping out towards me. My lithe and graceful beauty. She has the lovesick look of a teen girl who is smitten with an unattainable man. Her eyes follow her long-term crush Tyler after he passes me, and she seems to dissolve into sighs as I turn my head to her.

“When will he ever notice I exist?” She mumbles, eyes still glued to her hunk from her down-tilted head angle as he walks to Dane, and the two stop to talk, aware of their coven ogling them. This is their morning routine of standing in the walkway as everyone arrives to get maximum ego boosting. Prime view for all their girls to view, croon and praise them as we all make our way into school.

“When will you get a clue and give up on a guy who has been your classmate since kindergarten and still doesn’t know your name? Tyler is as much of a loser as Dane.” I tut at her, slide my arm in hers, and yank her with me to head to registry class.

“It’s not that he doesn’t know it… it’s just he has never needed to use it.” She always tries to make the same excuse and catches my death glare, quieting her protest.

“Exactly. Same class since you could barely walk, and he has never spoken one word to you. He has never even made eye contact with you. Get a new crush…. one that sees you. You deserve better.” I chastise her, pulling on the maternal frowny face that’s a replica of my mother scolding me, and Elisa sags as we walk. Her long auburn hair falls over her face and hides her black-rimmed glasses from view entirely, so all I get is a dainty chin and pouty lips.

“I can’t just give up on my heart's one true desire I have harbored all these years. No one is as perfect as Tyler. One day, he will speak to me.” She exhales heavily, her tone dreamy, and I sigh, only in exasperation.

I eyeroll at this familiar line of conversation. Knowing my friend is a romantic moron with low self-esteem and could pull any guy she wanted if she stopped hiding in her hair and running away to hide in corners whenever anyone dared to talk to her.

Elisa isn’t ugly; she’s pretty in her own natural way with pale, freckled, flawless skin and huge puppy brown eyes that are perfectly almond-shaped and framed with the darkest lashes for a redhead. She is a tall and slender creature with a delicate bone structure. She has the most symmetrical face I have ever seen; if she stopped staring at her feet, others would also notice it. I always felt like she could be truly stunning if she tied her hair back, lifted her head, and started tailoring her clothes from baggy to fitted.

She’s your typical smart nerd girl who is awkward and pays no attention to clothes or her hair and, despite her love of cosmetics, never wears much. She's painfully shy and stutters when anyone who is not me talks to her, which is why no one does. She has glasses and braces, which don’t take away from her beauty, but she is so self-conscious that she lets her bangs grow out so she can hide in a veil of soft red-brown all day long. So everyone thinks she is some weird recluse.

If it wasn't for being my best friend since birth, I am sure she would have fallen victim to bullying years ago, but I’m too vocal and strong-willed for that BS, and being class president means no one looks at me the wrong way either. My dad donates so much money to this school that no one would ever dare annoy me and, of course, asshole Dane. No one would pick on his sister if they wanted to stay alive.

“Come on.” I drag her along, putting speed into our steps as I catch sight of the wall clock inside the glass wall front entrance to our high school. “I want to get in early and set up for first class. It’s presentation day.” I smile to myself, confident in my work and research for this subject, sure I will get top marks like I always do. I spent the last week cramming like a maniac, double-checking, working hard, and crossing all my T’s. Dane may be hopping on for credit, but I know I am the reason our group will get an A in this, and that loser will only fail in some other way.

It’s inevitable.

“I don’t want to talk. Can you do it?” Elisa is already freaking out about something she knows I will do anyway. The girl is sometimes overly anxious and uptight when she should know, as her appointed best friend, I would never let her suffer.

“Of course. I know the drill. I’ll do the talk if you switch up the slides, and Denny can deal with the model and props. Roseanna can stand with you at the projector laptop and help.” I already have it all planned out. And if that idiot brother of mine is implying he joined our group, he can stand at the side and do what he does best … far away from me. Distract half the low IQ big-busted girls in the class so they don’t ask stupid questions, yawn, and eyeroll, and make out like we are somehow ruining their day.

“Kay. You’re the best, Koala Bear.” Elisa gives me an arm squeeze and rests her head on my shoulder so her hair shield falls over her face entirely, and she relies on me to guide her way.

My girl is a beauty product genius who makes her own and always comes up with the best-smelling stuff. She smells like coconuts and mango today, and I turn and sniff her shampoo with appreciation. This smells new and possibly Elisa-made.

We bonded over science as little kids - what with her love of making potions and lotions and my dream of becoming an animal doctor. Her mission in life is to create animal cruelty-free and vegan brands as organic as possible and with locally sourced ingredients.

“New shampoo?” I ask in curiosity, dodging a teacher as we turn into the hall, and we both nod a good morning in passing. The sun beams in the massive wall of glass that covers half the school as it hits higher in the sky, making us squint until the automatic tinted windows kick in and blur out some of it. We head to the science department on the ground floor to offload our bags. A perk of attending the state's most exclusive and expensive school means we have no shortage of tech and gadgets. A low student population of those whose parents can afford it and a high number of qualified teachers.

“Hmmm. I brought you a bottle too. It’s great for highlighted blonde hair like yours. I added extra moisturizing properties to combat this Florida sun.” Elisa lets go of me as we stop outside the automatic doors of the science rooms, brightened with a mix of artificial and natural light, given the entire downstairs has glass walls between all classes. She follows me inside.

“Awesome. Come on, champ… let’s get to work and knock this out of the park.”