Chapter 18: Schemes and Vendettas Against The Russian Bitch
"Aww, my baby brother's in wuv!" Celine cooed. "Keep smiling, Eric! I have never seen you this happy before."
I rolled my eyes at her. Strolling to the couch, the rest of the ensemble pop out. They were already in their night wear, consisting of nightgowns and sweats.
My day at the beach with Katherine was beyond words. We attended a party held every night. For an uptight like me, I missed those things during my high school and college days. Katherine doubled over in laughter as I told her I haven't been to a proper party where I enjoyed myself. I mostly got dragged by Tristan or the occasional girls I dated briefly.
She made it her mission to show me a good time; introducing me to almost all of the people our age in town (though I deemed it unnecessary,) dancing, and even challenged me to a game of beer pong. I saw a different light in her, having a look at her past life: the nightlife. It was fun, yes, but I think I enjoyed it more just seeing her happy. Just the image of her laughing and smiling put a smile in my face.
The smile, however, brought a tsunami of nagging from my sisters.
"Oh my gosh! He actually smiled to himself! I can't believe this!"
"I smell alcohol, did you guys go to a party?!"
"Oh em gee! You never go to a party!"
"Nuh-uh, remember when he was in college? He went to a frat party with Tristan and that bimbo." Jamie said.
Her twin and the rest scrunched up their noses in disgust, "Ew, that girl who wore that green top? Ugh, she looked like Barney threw up on her." Janie says in disdain at the memory.
I find myself gagging at the remembrance of Adria Bozniaki. "Oh my god, I think I just threw up in my mouth." I groan.
They laughed in unison as Jamie patted my shoulder, "Dumping her was, by far, the second best decision you made. I would never take her as a sister in-law. Never."
Althea bit into the sandwich she was eating, "What's the best?"
Janie rolled her eyes, "Asking Katherine out, dumb nut."
The ringing of the home phone interrupted their bickering. I stood up, happy of the distraction and picked it up. "Hello?"
"Oh god, I've spent a lifetime and a half trying to track you down!"
I frowned, "I'm sorry, you have me at a disadvantage. Who is this?"
A cackle of laughter sounded through the line. "Oh baby, I'm coming down to Cali. I'm currently boarding the plane. Adria Bozniaki's paying a visit!"
I stared in wide eyed shock as the call ended. This was going to end badly. I can feel it in my bones.
"Hey, you're going pale, who was on the phone?" Celine asked.
I walk woodenly to the couch. "You have to help me, she's a sexual predator and I don't wanna lose Katherine because of her. You have to help me get rid of her in the nicest way possible."
"Whoa, calm there cowboy. Who's the sexual predator?" Nathalia asked, confusion in her features.
"Adria. Adria Bozniaki, the one you guys were talking about not too long ago!" Saying the name out loud left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Adria is that kind of girl. I hate stereotyping but it is just the most fitting adjective for her. The tall, bleach blonde, blue eyed, too-much-eye-shadow wearing woman was the vixen of all vixens. She thought that her slim figure was a ticket to wearing clothes that leave nothing to the imagination. Clothes isn't even an appropriate term for it.
