Cheese & Chocolates

Blood is Thicker than Water

Love is a smoke and is made with the fume of sighs. — William Shakespeare

"So what do you want to do with her?" I rolled my eyes at her voice.

I never thought I'd hate someone so much, what a female dog. And yes, that's my step-mom. I will never acknowledge the day that she becomes a mother of mine, and it seems to me, she will never acknowledge me as a daughter of hers. Not like anyone would want to be the daughter of a witch. How my father fell in love with the woman, I wouldn't know. Maybe she's good in bed? That's the only logical reason my father would take a bimbo home and ask her to be his wife. She is absolutely the most repulsive thing ever! I mean, she dresses like she's a teenager when in fact, she's already in her forties. I mean, okay fine, she's pretty, but hell... How can I ever respect this woman?

"Elena, she's my daughter. You have a son, and I have a daughter. If we plan on getting married then you have to get along with her." I hear my father say crossly, making me gag. Me? Get along with that witch and her son? Uh, no, thanks.

"Fine!" Hm, maybe Elena resigned. After all, she's the one moving in with us. I know my father loves me, but seriously? I don't get his taste in women. I'm okay with him getting a girlfriend, because I want my dad to be happy. He's a good guy, and he deserves better. Seriously? What a downgrade!

I never met Elena's son before. I heard from dad that he goes to the same school I go to. It's the first time dad brought this bimbo home, so I never really had the chance to get to know her. For some reason, she's itching to get married as quick as possible, probably to milk out all the money my father has in his savings account.

Slinging my knapsack on one shoulder, I slipped on my shoes, looking at myself in the full-length mirror, before descending down the stairs. Thankfully, I go to a private school, and there's uniforms. Not everyone is happy with the idea of uniforms, but I am. I don't like shopping, I never liked it, and I believe schools are an academic institution. I don't have anything against civilian wear, but it just heightens up the rivalry between girls and their fashion trends. Schools are not runways, but sadly, not everyone gets the message. Even with these uniforms, a white polo shirt, a knee-length black skirt, a black bowtie, some girls still find a way to "customize" their uniforms by, shortening the length of their skirts, pulling it up so high, you can already see their lace panties showing.

I made my way towards my locker, getting my books, when I noticed a boy, who I haven't seen before, shut the locker door next to mine. He has chocolate brown hair, blue eyes, with thick-rimmed glasses, dimples, a pointed nose, and plump lips. He kind of reminds me of Cameron Dallas. Wow. I stared at him, and he stared right back. How come he looks vaguely familiar? Is he a transfer student? I noticed a group of girls were already surrounding us. Looks like I'm not the only one who took notice of his effortlessly good looks. I don't know what to make of him, but I swear I saw him check me out.

"Are you done ogling?" I say, raising one brow.

"Not like there's anything to ogle." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, walking away.

The girls were stifling a laugh, making me glare at them. As much as I told myself not to get affected by it, I was. I followed him down the hall, my fists clenched. What a jerk! He ain't leaving without a piece of my mind.

"Will you stop following me?" He says, looking back at me with crossed arms.

"I will, if you tell me what that was about."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh you know what! You're an obnoxious and sarcastic pig!" I seethed, making him looking at me curiously.