His Arrogant Ways

Chapter: 1

A/N NEW STORY! WILL HAVE UPDATES DAILY. COULD BE CONSIDERED ANOTHER BAD BOY BOOK IF YOU WILL. PLEASE ENOJY!

*NOT PROOF READ!*

I woke up today same as always- annoyed as hell. My older sisters decided they would be loud as hell. I don't even understand I mean my one sister is twenty- two. She should've moved out. Like four years ago. 

I wish she did. Okay, no I don't. No matter how much my older sisters annoy me, I love them anyways. They're always there when I need them most. Just not when it's an hour and a half before I have to actually wake up.

What are they even doing up? It's five thirty. I huffed my way out of bed, and attempted to walk to my door in the semi dark. Hint, I said attempted to. I ended up tripping over a shoe and face planting. I grumbled curses before standing up and trying to exit again.

I succeeded this time and continued my way to my obnoxious sisters. I walked down the hall and rounded the corner to the stairs. I jogged down the steps, wiping the sleep from my eyes. "What're you doing?" I asked my sisters, annoyance clear.

"Good morning, sunshine!" My sister chirped. "Shut up, Sophie." That earned me a glare. Sophie is the middle child. She's nineteen and supposed to be in college. She told mom and dad she's taking a year off, but I know she got kicked out.

Emma is twenty-two. She's finishing up college and becoming a pediatrician. She's my father's prized possession. I get constant complaints that usually go something like, "why aren't you like Emma, heck, why aren't you like Sophie, do you not love us enough to do better?!" Yup. That's life.

No matter how annoying everyone in my house can be, I love them all and I know they mean well, then again, they ARE annoying. "Why are you grumpy?" Emma quirked a perfectly- fresh waxed brow. "You guys woke me up an hour and a half early, would you be happy?" I snapped and extended the 'you' part.

She frowned and shook her head 'no'. Sophie stood over by the counter looking lost. She's a bit of a blonde, obviously, and she has my dad's brown hair! I have my mom's dirty blonde. It doesn't make sense. I mean I'm glad I'm not like that and all. Sheesh. 

"Go get ready, I'm taking you to school." Emma chirped. Again. I rolled my eyes and nodded nevertheless. I'm already up, what's the point? I oh-so skillfully ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, and making it to the top of the stairs like a gymnast. 

Also known as, I attempted to skip a step and face planted, slipping down the stairs I already went up, dragging my face off each step. Resulting in a cut by my eyebrow. I brought my hand up and felt a cool substance on it; I pulled my fingers in front of me to see blood. Great. 

I walked- slowly, up the stairs this time and watching my step. When I entered my room, I was sure I turned on the light so I wouldn't trip. I walked to my bathroom and flipped on the light switch. 

I inspected my newfound wound. It was surprisingly deep. Yay. A new scar! Sarcasm heavily noted. I walked to my shower and turned on the hot water waiting for it to get hot. I stripped out of my clothes and hopped in carefully- very, very carefully. I ain't got no time for more injuries.

I took my time in the shower considering I had a lot of time left over from waking up early- no thanks to my sisters. *Insert annoyed face here*. I rinsed out my remaining conditioner, turned off the water, and got out. Carefully though! 

I walked out and to my dresser to grab a random shirt and put on a lace purple bra with a lace-matching thong. It was cute, okay! I have the random shirt so I can get ready, without being in my actually clothes. It helps a lot, actually.

I walked back over to my bathroom and grabbed my mascara and eyeliner, bringing it out to my room. I had a big mirror pressed against the wall. I sat down on the ground, Indian style and started to apply my mascara and eyeliner. I also grabbed some peroxide and cleaned my eyebrow cut.

When I was satisfied, I brushed my annoying hair and fishtail braided it to the side. After that, I moved back to my too big walk in closet and started to finger different types of clothes. I went on light skinny jeans, that really look good and a floral top that was sort of crop top like. And by sort of, I mean if I raised my hands, my shirt will lift, revealing my navel piercing. 

Which is annoying as hell too. It gets in the way all the time, and I have to make sure I don't wear tight shirts. The fabric will get tangled with it, and causing serious pain. Uh, no thank you. I grabbed my books and phone, then carried them downstairs with me.

"Emma, I'm ready!" I called out, while rounding the kitchen. "Great, lets go!" She said cheerfully, whilst jumping out of the barstool. How she managed to do it in heels? I have no idea. We walked to the front door wear I slipped on my black combat boots. What? They're comfy and cute, okay! Judge me, I don't care.

As we were driving to the school and it came into view, I had this sickening feeling telling me something wasn't right, but then again, what did go right on Mondays; or at school, or ever for Christ's sake. 

My sister pulled up to the main building and bid me a goodbye. I mumbled one back and made my way to the Big House. I mean school; Nah, I mean Big House. School, Jail, what's the difference? Oh wait, I know, jail actually sells somewhat editable food! 

Here goes nothing.