Maid for the Casanova

Chapter Five - First Day of School

Tracy Sterling

I woke up on a typical Monday morning. Rumor has it. It's basically the beginning of our school year. As much as I wanted to sleep, I knew I shouldn't. I can't be late for my first day in class. I believe in the saying first impression last. I don't want to be labeled as tardy in my very first day. New school. New rules. New environment. You'll get used to this kind of set up, Tracy. I sighed after giving myself an assurance.

I took a short, warm shower to freshen up myself and wore my blue skinny jeans and a pink shirt. Voila! I'm finally done preparing for my first day. I gasped for air before leaving my room. I went to the dining area and helped Zoey in preparing the dining table for breakfast. Scott is nowhere to be found so I decided to go upstairs to his room to wake him up. He must be asleep at this very hour.

I knocked on his door but no one answered, so once again I entered his room without his permission. And there he was, lying on the bed. His hair is pretty messy but damn, he looks hot. What am I even saying? He is still the same arrogant jerk that I'll be taking care of.

"Scott, wake up" I continuously tap his leg but it was no use.

"Scott! We'll be late for school" I demanded. He just groaned in annoyance and covered his face with a blanket.

"Come on wake up dickhead" I said. This guy is getting into my nerves.

Then he uncovered his face with a blanket and grabbed me. Then he locked me on his arms. He is now on top of me. This position is awkward. I can hear my heart pounding in an unusual pace.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked.

"Call me dickhead one more time, I swear Tracy Van Sterling you wouldn't want to know what can possibly happen next" He threatened me.

"Are you trying to scare the shit out of me? Its not working" I answered.

"One word. One kiss" he said. What was that?

"Seriously? Very funny, Scott" I said. Then his face is getting closer and closer as I opened my eyes wider. Is he for real?

"Scott, what the fuck are you do--" he covered my mouth when we heard a knock on the door.

"Scott, honey you'll be late for school" It's aunt calling him.

"Be right there" Scott answered.

"Okay, just be quick" she commanded then we heard footsteps walking away outside his door.

"Scott, let go of me" I commanded him in a soft voice. I don't want to cause noise that might provoke aunt or anyone else from coming in to his room. I feel so uncomfortable in our position.

"We're not yet done, here" He answered with a devious smile.

"What do you want?" I asked. This guy is really getting into my nerves.

"I want you--" he whispered in a gentle voice that sent shiver down to my spine

"What?" What did he just said?

"To arrange my bed" then he let go of me.

"You are so immature!" I stated then stood up. He headed to the shower and I arranged his pillow case and blankets on top of his bed.

"Jerk" I said to myself before slamming his door. That was a close call, Tracy.

___________

Scott parked his car on the VIP parking area and people are staring at us, like they were giving opinions or worse criticisms on the back of their mind.

"Are you okay?" He asked me.

"After riding a one hell of a ride in your car, I'm clearly not okay" This ride to school is worse than a roller coaster. He doesn't give a shit about traffic rules. He drives his car like he's competing in a racing game or he'll be late for something important.

"Get used to it, Tracy" he smirked.

"Actually, I'd rather take the school bus next time" I answered with sarcasm.

While we were walking in the parking area, three blonde girls approached us. I have to admit the three of them look hot. They look classy and elegant. But the girl that caught my attention is the girl in front of them. She is wearing a red lipstick and a five inches stilettos with her short skirt on. She is like the New Yorker version of Regina George from 'Mean Girls'

"So Scott, seems like you have a new flavor of the month" The so called 'Regina George' look alike greeted. Then she looked at me from head to toe, which made me feel uncomfortable.

"Yeah, obviously" He nodded in agreement. Wait, what was that supposed to mean? The three of them seemed shocked about what he just said. I really don't know what's going on here. Can someone please care to enlighten me?

"Look Scott, are you dumping me for this cheap, sleazy new girl of yours?" She stated with disgust.

"No its not what you think I'm just his--" Scott interrupted me.

"She's my girlfriend" he introduced.

"Oh my!" The girl in a cheerleading outfit stated.

"And I don't need to dump you, Madison. We're done" He answered in a calm voice.

"You can't do this to me Scott. She's not even qualified in our standards. I mean just simply look at her!" She caterwauled then point her finger at me.

"You know why I like her? Because she's not you" He said then held my hand as we walk away from them. I just followed his lead.

"What was that all about?" I asked him. I'm still lost in the moment. Many questions are popping into my head right now. I'm literally losing my mind and it's all because of Scott.

"You're obliged to do anything I want, right? Don't you remember, my dear nanny?" He asked.

"But pretending to be your girlfriend in front of those bitchy school girls is clearly not one of my responsibilities" I affirmed my stand.

"Yeah, but don't you remember you promised to do anything I want?" Then the memory flashed into my brains.

"Fine" I groaned in annoyance. Then I walked away to find my first class. What could possibly go wrong? I'm sure no one gives a damn about the scene earlier in the parking area.

I was about to enter my first class when I suddenly heard voices inside, they were chatting.

"Have you seen Scott's new girl? This is surreal" a voice of a girl complained.

"Yeah, right. Like what kind of a love potion did she used to get Scott?" Another voice added.

"What a skank?" She answered.

Wow, I never thought being Scott's pretend girlfriend would cause me so much trouble. Too bad for you, Tracy. I thought to myself.

. . . . .