Today was the first day back at school. While most of the asshats who attended Liston High Private School actually went in for the first day, I was stuck scrubbing the toilets of the Hallow mansion.
And regardless of what my brother says I look like, I am not a scholarship kid. I'm Dainy Hallow and the guy with the Goku hair wiping puke off the pebbled bathroom floor is my older brother Aiden.
Last night as is customary to do the night before school starts, we had a huge ass party.
Our initial plan was to go to school, skip last period, get home and clear out the evidence before our parents arrived back the following day.
Let's just say that plan went to shit fast when Aiden called mom. He asked her to pick up the suit he ordered from G&G for the cancer benefit we were hosting next month. A simple question followed by an unexpected answer.
Apparently, my brother and I were misinformed with regards to my parents return. My parents were actually arriving today in less than three hours.
Two hours and four injuries later, the beer bottles are gone. The bathrooms now sanitized, and beds clothed in fresh unused linen.
The rest of the house is tidy but not clean. My brother and I aren't dumb, we've been doing this for five years.
Unlike most siblings, Aiden and I don't bicker all the time.
We work as a team. It's how we've always managed to get out of any situation, like now, we both know our parents expect us to throw parties and make mess.
So, what did we do? We got rid of the top three no, no's': - Sex, Booz and Reagan Orniel.
Reagan is the school's football captain and first quarterback. Up until last year, he was the vice-leader of Liston High Private, whilst his cousin, Kylie Bray took reign of the school for four years. He was content to sit backseat until she left.
It was a no brainer that a Stone, Bray or Orniel ran Liston's most prestigious school. It had been that way since our school opened, thirty years ago. The three families are three of the most influential families in America maybe even the world.
When Mason Bray and Jace Stone left in their junior year to attend Liston High Public, the entire school literally went into mourning.
Some tried to rule and up their number in the social list. It was a given that the only person capable of the job that is running our school was Reagan Orniel, son of billionaire Wesley Orniel.
The family owned the biggest import and export company in America. They also so happened to be my neighbors.
Remember when I said some people tried to rule the school. Well, it's fair to say that one of those people is my brother, Aiden. Worst decision he ever made.
If ruling Liston High Private needed someone with a substantial amount of money, I would put my family just below Reagan and his crew of asshole-ness, but unfortunately, we're not.
We are talking about Heritage, and my family is somewhere in the middle.
There is only one reason for that. My brother and I are a little different from our fellow school mates. Most of the people who attend Liston High Private are born with diamonds pouring out of their ears.
My parents made their money the good old fashion way, work, work, work.
My father designed a business app that helps CEO's do their own accounting and keep records of money spent and sold it to a major software company for a few hundred million. My mother and him later opened the first six-star hotel in L.A. After years of success they franchised it out and the rest is history.
Unfortunately, nobody told us that hierarchy at L.H Private isn't just about money. So, when my brother tried the unthinkable let's just say he and Reagan, who up until a year ago shared a comfortable silence, became frenemies.
They went to each other's parties, played on the same team, but when it really mattered, they never had each other's back.
I'm sitting on the steps when my phone rings. My blonde hair is still dripping because I couldn't care less about putting a towel to it and my brown eyes probably look like I'd cried myself to sleep.
Truth- sleep is nonexistent to my brain function right now. My parents are due any second and the consequences of last night's decisions are weighing way too heavily on my short curves.
"Yo, Hot Shot, I was just thinking ‘bout callin' you up and telling you how mighty fine it was of you to stop by and help my brother and I clean up your vomit."
The chuckle on the other end is no surprise to me,
"You know I love you too Dainy."
That statement never seizes to amaze me. Liam Hugh and I have been best friends for years. I can admit that there has been the occasional kiss and fondle over the past few years but our physical interactions, has always stayed under PG thirteen.
We both love each other and as true as my Prada shoes are in fact a ‘limited edition', Liam Hugh, this centuries ladies' man, who is extremely generous in the man field and I never had the sexual connection.
Call me crazy, I know.
"You never call, unless someone died, did someone die? What happened? Is it that weird girl from the supermarket? I knew she was suicidal, I told you."
His pause has my shackles on full alert.
"What the hell is wrong with you and death recently? No! Some new girl transferred from the disgusting Apple."
"So?" My confusion is evident in my voice. I've always been an open book. I've never perfected an ounce of the serious blank face most people in Liston Hills do. My gran said It's my nature to be filter-less.
"What's up with you and Orniel?" The pit in my stomach sinks ten miles an hour when asked that question.
Two days ago? That answer would've been simple.
After last night? I don't know. In my drunken stupor I did something irreversible.
I slept with Reagan Orniel.
The correct thing to say is- I had drunk sex for the first time with him.
In other words, or ‘layman's' terms I was a virgin until last night.
I don't regret it.
Some people would say that I was just another girl that Reagan conquered.
One of many!
But I would say that our drunken sex was more than that. I had practically drooled and wiped my snot on his t-shirt for the past two years every time some ass-hat decided to dump the blonde which is me, I'm the blonde.
The reason for that was while I would do almost anything with a boy I never went all the way. Which is why I'd practically dated half of Liston Highs Private population and if I was honest with myself, a good section of Liston High Public too.
I am what majority would call the slut of Liston High Private and I wear it with pride. Being head cheerleader, the football team relied on me to keep the bitches under control. And by doing that I had to have the reputation to match. So, what if they choose to believe that I fuck anything with three legs, as long as it gets them putty in my hands who the hell cares.
I am Dainy Hallow after all. The girls in school either fear me or want to be me. Unlike the rest of them including my brother, I don't need the fancy surname. I hold all the important titles, head cheerleader, A-grade student, and your worst nightmare if you ever dare to cross me. A fair warning- don't cross me.
I am also best friend to Victoria Stone and Sienna Bray. They don't attend Liston High Private this year because Victoria aka Rae was forced to join her brother Jace in Liston Public. A year ago Jace Stone decided that he didn't want the stress that came with our Ivy League school any longer and just left. Mason Bray joined him and where he goes Sienna Bray follows, but recently Sienna hasn't been in the picture, rumor has it that she was living in the other side of town. They are all still part of the most Elite in our Suburb, Liston Hills and the step siblings of Kylie Bray.
Kylie ruled the school from the first day she stepped foot on L.H Private. Even the male population cowered under her gaze. People lowered their heads and her best friend Dakota, who was rumored to be a science genius and princess of the Sin Riders MC made sure that they never forgot who was in charge.
I was fortunate to see her good side. The one she kept reserved for her close friends and family.
"I'm not sure what's goin' on between Reagan and I, but If he's already on the prowl that should answer your question."
The muttered "fuck" behind me doesn't improve my mood when I get off the phone any more than the phone call that just confirmed what I doubted.
I'm just another notch in Reagan's long line of nameless faces and forgetful bodies.
Standing up, I turn to face my brother who's unceremoniously rubbing his hair with a small white towel while attempting to button his dark wash jeans with his free hand.
"You got any of that hair wax you got from Milan, mines finished."
Shrugging, I smirk knowing how this is gonna play out, "You gonna loan me your jeep this weekend?"
"Hell-to-the-fuck-no."
"Suit yourself." I go down the steps and make my way through the yellow painted entrance hall, feigning disinterest.
I'm not surprised when my brother follows me, "I gave you my jeep one time and we both know how that played out, choose something else."
Pausing mid-stride, I shrug, "Maybe it's time you got that hair cut mama's always nagging about."
"Maybe you should stop being a brat and give me the damn wax."
Spinning around I stare at my six foot tall brother's freshly shaven square jaw. His green gaze daring me to continue, but I won't.
We both know I'm going to give him the damn wax, I don't even use it but I want something first.
"I need to see Rae, and Jace is gonna be there."
Laughing he rubs his toned abs with the wet towel, "You want me to distract Jace while you sneak into Victoria's room."
Shrugging, I stare behind him at the double French door, "That too."
"Fine, now can you give me the damn wax."
When I don't move to get it, he grinds out, "Please."
My smile is instant, dimples and all, "Gladly, there's a whole box of it in the pantry."
His wet towel hits me in the face before he storms pass me, "Why the fuck didn't you just tell me that the first time."
Smiling to myself, I throw the towel on the marble table behind me. My big brother never does anything without getting something out of it not even for me. And while I tend to bargain with smaller things or favors, most people don't have such luck.
My achievement is still evident on my face as I open the door. And just like that my reality is staring me smack in the face.
I squeak, "Reagan."
