How to Love:

o n e .

Desirae McBloom.

The sky was a dull shade of grey, lightning sparking up the sky occasionally, but that didn't stop me, just like the pouring rain and the mud squeaking beneath my boots. As I reached just past the rich side of town, I came across a dimly lit petrol station.

Considering that was the only shelter I had to prevent me from catching the cold, I pushed past into the small convenient store that was built just in the corner.

Picking up a bag of Doritos and a can of Dr. Pepper, I walked up to the cashier and saw a middle aged man slouched over the counter fast asleep. I rolled my eyes before shaking him awake.

"Hey, babe, I'm Liam," a voice spoke out, catching my attention. I turned to my right to see a boy who didn't seem any older, or younger than my age.

"Uh, hi?" I asked questioningly.

"Ooh, we've got a Brit. What are you doing here, all drenched? You could get seriously sick," he stated, eyeing me cautiously with every detail.

"Why do you care anyways?" I asked curiously as I paid the cashier. I walked out of the store to see a sleek silver Porsche parked into the station.

I looked back at the store to see 'Liam' grinning as he jogged out towards me.

"Let me take you home. We don't need any pretty girls to be getting sick," he spoke out flirtatiously, opening the door to the Porsche, causing me to chuckle.

 "Nah, I'm good." I shrugged.

 "Oh, c'mon. At this point, you’re going to get sick. The rain doesn't look like it'll stop anytime soon!" he exclaimed.

Stopping in my tracks, I thought about it. He was right, "All right".

-

ACHOO.

"Ugh, fuck,” I muttered, lying in bed with a cold.

 "My lovelies! It’s your first day of school!" my mum, Jessie,  shouted from downstairs. I heard the loud clacking of kitchen utensils.

Groaning, I rolled over, checking the time to see the clock saying it was six thirty-nine in the morning. School started in an hour.

Throwing my legs over the bed, I stepped onto the cold tile floor. Reminder: get a carpet.

ACHOO.

I let out another sneeze as I walked into my bathroom, gathering my morning needs and turned on the shower with burning hot water. I hated morning showers, but today felt exceptional.

After doing my morning routine, I forced myself into the shitty uniform which consisted of two variations: a plain white shirt tucked into black high-waisted shorts, black tie, and a maroon blazer OR a plain white shirt, black skater skirt, black tie, maroon blazer and black tights.

It didn't feel right. Knowing me, I flipped off the black skirt, slid on the black tights, loosened the tie, and pulled on my favorite pair of combat boots.

Satisfied with myself, I grabbed my studded black bag by Michael Kors which was gifted by my aunt and walked downstairs. It wasn’t a surprise to see Laker, my twin brother, dressed against the rules like I did.

"Oh, will you two dress appropriately?!" Mum wailed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"It's alright, Mrs. McBloom. They'll learn soon." Mandy, our family-like maid, shrugged.

"Nah," Laker and I spoke in unison.

 "Don't worry, they will," Mandy spoke, accentuating her thick French accent.

"Just both of you go to school. Laker, you drive. Don't you dare let Des behind the wheel. You'll both be dead," Mum warned as Laker reached for the car keys.

"Yeah, we all know how much she sucks at driving." He stuck his tongue out. I rolled my eyes.

You’re probably thinking where our dad is. He's another story that doesn't deserve to even exist.

ACHOO.

I sneezed once again as I got into the black Camry. Nothing fancy like the sleek silver Porsche from last night.

"Are you sick?" Laker asked as he drove down the unfamiliar road.

"Sort of." I shrugged.

 "You shouldn't have come, Des," he huffed as he stopped at a traffic light.

"I'm fine." I simply waved him off.

Parking the car at an empty spot at our new school, Los Angeles High, I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out of the passenger seat, gaining interest from the students at the school. Laker and I looked at each other a smirk plastering our faces. We've definitely caught some attention.

Walking through the school doors with Laker, people moved out of the way for us. Whispers were exchanged.

"Who are they?"

"They’re hot."

"Are they new?"

"She's fucking sexy."

"I'd so go for him.”

"Oi, where's the office?" Laker asked a passing student.

 "U-um d-down the hall on the l-left,” she stuttered, scurrying away.

 "Well, we seem to be effective." I smirked, crossing my arms.

-

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Thirty minutes.

"Can you get any fucking slower?" I huffed, annoyed at the lady who sat at the front desk.

 "Language!" she snapped, passing two folders which consisted of Laker and I's class schedule, locker number, and the school pack.

"Thank the bloody lord," Laker breathed out as we walked out of the office. "Her slowness was equivalent to a pissin' turtle," he added. I laughed in the process.

"See you at lunch, loser," I stuck my tongue out, heading to Maths.

Stepping down the hallways, I came across Room C29 labeled Maths. I pushed the door open and I could hear the light chattering of people, but soon silence overwhelmed us.

"You must be Desirae McBloom. Have a seat. Detention after class," Mr. Harrods, I think, spoke monotonously.

 "Uh, excuse me?" I scoffed, raising an eyebrow as the class watched intensively.

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A/N: Hehe feedback would be lovely, first story thank you for reading! - Indi x