My Stepbrother: secret possession

Planted The Poisonous Seed

"You sound like an elderly British woman in her hundreds."

Clutching my thermoflask, I scoff and roll my eyes as I discard things that my mum would consider rubbish into my locker. "I'll take that."

"Come on, Ava, you have to reactivate your Instagram, you're missing out." Evie slams the locker aggressively, and my body instinctively cringes as I whirl around to find a serious expression on her face.

"Stop that! You're scaring me. Besides, how many times do I have to tell you that our relationship has become complicated? We decided breaking up is the best thing for both of us," I whine.

"And I told you I won't buy that craziness, girl. How can a person break up with a programmed application?" Confused, she shakes her head while I continue searching for my first edition of Charlotte Bronte's book, beginning to panic at the possibility of losing it.

"Aren't you American? You tell me. This is the twenty-first century; I've seen Hollywood scientific movies," I sneer.

Evie shuts my locker with her elbow and grabs me by both shoulders until I mirror her. "Okay! I've heard enough... WAKE UP."

On Saturday, when we got home from the golf centre, I found Evie in my bedroom, which still scares me to this day, and she still won't tell me how she got there. It's not like Christian and Mum share a key to our house with everyone.

Well, that evening, Evie not only taunted me about my social life but also throughout the whole night, as Mr and Mrs Kyle allowed her to have a sleepover at my place, which meant Leigh and I didn't get to finish our conversation. On Sunday morning, Christian decided to take his son for some father-son bonding time, and they likely returned very late last night since I dozed off.

Honestly, I can't understand what I've become and how much of an evil person I've turned into. How could I agree to take away the happiness my mum found after years of being destroyed? I cringe at the mere thought. I've never been one to make remorseless and selfish decisions, but ever since coming to the States, much about me has changed—or rather, my true self has begun to reveal itself—and I'd be lying if I blamed someone else's influence.

I clear my throat and start. "Evie..."

"Red alert... He's coming," she croaks, and I automatically start to blush.

"Who?" I shake my head at the red-faced girl who was just active two seconds ago, bewildered.

Her breathing quickens, and her eyes begin twitching. "What is happening to you?" I scrunch my face at her sudden change in composure before I turn around to find Arlen Garret approaching.

Please, let the bell ring now. Come on, for once in my life, let something work in my favor.

Of course, the bell doesn't go off, thanks to the malfunctioning clock, and I'm left with no option but to wear a neutral mask with a polite smile and suppress the nerves that sting every fiber of my being.

"Hi."

"Hi, Arlen." I maintain my composure.

"How are you?" But he sounds strange.

"I'm good, thank you. Why weren't you at the golf game on Saturday?" Why did I ask? How many times do I have to mentally slap myself?

Frowning, Arlen exhales and glances nervously at frozen Evie. "Can I talk to you in private?" he asks, suggestively.

"Oh... Mmm... I'll go to my locker. If you need me, I'll be by my locker. You know where that is... it's over there." Evie winks and points to her aesthetically pleasing locker across the hallway, taking slow steps backward. I want to kick her in the buttocks for embarrassing me more than necessary.