Just For The Summer: Book One

Chapter Three: Elena

I wake up with the hangover from hell with my head pounding and dark curly hair all over my face. I know for a fact I look like a hot mess. Minus the hot. A knock on my bedroom door startles me as I sit up and mumble that the person can enter.
My mum enters my room calmly and I'm shocked after the brief argument we had yesterday when I came home later.

'Lena, darling, I need your help making breakfast for the household,' her voice is soothing but her words don't fully register for a few minutes.

'What time is it?' I ask, knowing it's probably around seven in the morning which is early as fuck if you ask me.

'7:15 my love. Come one mija, let's make breakfast.'

Mom and I began cooking pancakes and eggs for the whole family. Well whoever was left. Mr Antonopulos left the house around seven every morning to get to work and the Mrs usually would be passed out into around 2pm but, that's none of my business.

Footsteps pounded on the stairs as, I imagine, the siblings ran down from their rooms to eat breakfast. Eggs Benedict for Ashlynn and pancakes and bacon for Sterling and 'the other one', which I should now refer to him wanted blueberry pancakes which mom made me make for the asshole.

As I set the table with cutlery and glasses full of OJ, the siblings come into the room and take their seats. Rooben, or the other one, comes in the room last and sits at the place that I was setting last. Then it begins. 'The Games' he was talking about last night. The knife and fork I set was knocked from the table and onto the floor.

'Pick that up, won't you?' He says, covering his lips so I don't see him smile. Asshole. I smile and go to pick up the cutlery. I stand and walk to the kitchen to get the food and new cutlery. I bring out the food and place them in front of the siblings, Rooben last. He looks at my pancakes with disgust and it angers me. What now?

'No,' he stretches out the word, 'this simply won't do, Elena. This isn't up to scratch. Bin it'

I am shocked. We compete in a stare off for a few tense seconds and I take his plate back into the kitchen, fake smiling all the way there. I slam the plate on the counter.

'Your British Highness doesn't want this,' I mutter to Mom and I head back into the dining room. 'What would you like to eat?' My fake megawatt smile is back in place. As fake as Nicki Minaj's ass.

'I want...' Rooben taps his finger on his lips, the asshole, and looks straight into my eyes, ' cake. Make me cake.'

Are you fucking serious? He is such an asshole. Sterling chuckles and Ashlynn rolls her eyes as Rooben looks me up and down, challenging me.

'What kind?' I say through clenched teeth and he smiles broadly.

'All types.'

'Excuse me?'

'Did you not hear me? I said all types of cake. carrot , chocolate, victoria sponge. You name it. You'll make it for me.'

'But! But that will take hours!' I almost shout as I look around for anything or anyone to save me. Mom? Sterling? Jesus Christ maybe?

Rooben just looks at me, bored. And he dismisses me. With his hand, He waves me away with his hand. Fucking dick. I walk straight into the kitchen and pick up every ingredient for any type of cake I can make. Because I know for a fact if I don't, these games will get a hundred times worse.

It takes me three hours to make five different types of cake for the british brat and I hated every single minute of it. I used to enjoy baking cake but now, this means war.