Deception - Haitus

Chapter One - I don't like to talk to people

Edit: I've edited this chapter, and I'm planning on editing the others too. I've noticed that Amelia (I changed it, I already have another character called Scarlet so that wouldn't work) was a bit of a Mary-Sue and not realistic enough. Well, I've changed that and decided to give her the flaws I know I have, one of which  are chronic shyness and another is social awkwardness. I hope the story is a bit better after this, especially now that I've planned out the entire thing properly.

Chapter One

Amelia

"Jasper, you fucking arse!" my brother had just taken off with the remote when I was watching the latest episode of Doctor Who and he went and changed it to some ridiculous Japanese cartoon that spewed out noise and colours.

And he took my iPod, that's just un-forgivable.

He ran out of our living room and up the stairs; so, of course, I chased after him and tackled him an instant before he reached his room. We both went down and went into a mini wrestling match over my iPod. The remote had gone flying and lay forgotten somewhere on the landing.

"Give. Over." Jasper grunted under the force of my arm around his neck. I was sitting on his back with my legs wrapped around his waist and arm around his throat, trying to choke him into submission.

"Not. A. Cha-aaaa-nce!" I screamed as he flipped me over. I landed on my back; all the air had left my lungs. I guess being a karate prodigy isn't any use in a sibling throw down.

By the time I had my breath back he had locked himself in his room.

With. My. iPod.

"OI!" I screamed at his door "Open up!" I banged on the door and kicked it with my black DocMarten boots. I was in a black blouse that was partially see-through and a mini skirt; not exactly the perfect attire for kicking down a door.

"Not a chance!" his voice came through the door.

"Fine, have it your way then!" I took a step back and took a deep breath. I gave the door an almighty side kick just above the door knob. The door rattled and gave a little, one more kick and it would break from it's hinges.

"Oi, stop it before you bust the door!" His voice floated through door with panic dripping from every syllable; this situation had taken place many times, and each ended with an arse busting from dad. If he was actually here, of course.

"Can I have my iPod back?" I asked him in my sweetest voice.

"Nope." short and sweet.

"Then back up." I took a step back and got ready to kick his door down for good - only for the moment to be ruined by the doorbell ringing obnoxiously. "Damn it!" I sent the door a withering glare, silently hoping it might crack under the force of the deathly look, "I'll be back."

I ran down the stairs as quickly as I could, wanting to get back to the hostage situation before my iPod got hurt, and jumped to the door; only to open it and find a surprisingly cute guy standing on the doorstep, instead of our elderly neighbour coming to check on the noise. His hair was a deep ebony and carefully mussed, his skin tanned and chocolate brown eyes set into a smiling face. Scratch that, he wasn't cute; he was what Vicky would class as 'fucking fit', as crude it might seem. He had on a white t-shirt with blue on the top third, the corner of a symbol or badge was just barely visible above his heart, a red leather jacket with thick, burnt orange stripes placed symmetrically around his limbs and torso, a pair of onyx gloves, faded black denim jeans and scuffed, black DocMartens.

"Uh, hi? Can I help you?" I asked him, trying not to panic at the fact that I was having to talk to a person. I really don't do socializing. It's even worse if they're the same age as me, the opposite sex, or attractive.