Secret Affairs With My Twin Stepbrothers

Chapter 1

Chapter One.

I had never forgotten the first conversation Darren and I had. And I’d probably never would, it was the reason I wouldn't give up on drawing after all.

I had been sitting in the school’s library for hours. It was one of my favorite places, still is. It was big, well stocked and had the seats spread out at a distance that made me feel safe. I had my headphones on, silently jamming to a song I couldn’t remember anymore.

There were barely any people in there, maybe six or seven and they were quiet. Either they were just well behaved or they just didn’t know Mrs. Mariam had gone home, leaving me the keys to lock up. She trusted me because I was always here. I didn’t like going home early anymore.

I wasn’t paying attention. I was in my own little world but then suddenly there Darren was.

Darren Vance and his stupid cronies, trailing behind like moths to a bright flame. I hadn’t known who he was back then.

I quickly took off my headphones. I had thought then that the smile he wore was a little off, but it was my second month as a freshman and no one had spoken a word in my direction that wasn’t to tell me to get out of their path, so I smiled back widely. Fourteen-year old me desperately wanted friends.

"What do we have here?" Darren’s voice rang out, at a volume that wasn’t acceptable for a library.

He leaned over my table and reached down to yank the book I was keeping open with my elbow out from under me. It ripped, most of it going with him but he left a few ragged pages behind. I blinked up at him, fully stunned.

Mom had got me that book for Christmas. I’d asked for it because I actually did want it, yes but it was something I knew she could afford comfortably after dad’s death a few weeks before.

“Drawing 101,” he read in a silly high-pitched voice, then promptly tossed it over his head. He reached for the unicorn I was trying to bring to life. I saw that and dove for it too. We got to it at the same time, tugging.

And yet again, something of mine ripped in his hands.

He got the part of the page I’d been sketching on. He took one look at it and snorted. Actually snorted. "What you need, loser, is Drawing for absolute idiots. Jesus, everybody above the age of two can draw better than this!’

He passed it back to his shadows and that increased the laughter. I could feel my face growing hot. And I meant my whole face, because my embarrassed blush didn’t stay on my cheeks. No, no, no, it went all the way down my neck.

‘I’m not finished,’ I muttered. The stragglers in the library were looking at us too, giggling behind their palm and I’d guess my blush would have hit my collarbones. He'd heard me, and that prompted another laughing fit.

‘You should be,’ he jeered and that began another bout of laughter.

‘Leave me alone!’ I hiss, my voice trembling.

But Darren only smirked down at me and it made goosebumps appear on my skin.

‘Or what?’ he challenged, his voice laced with mockery. Are you going to cry home to dada?” he asked.

I guess he decided he was done because he didn’t wait for an answer, just sauntered off with his minions in tow, leaving me with a sinking feeling in my stomach and fresh tears in my eyes.

That had been four years ago and Darren Vance was still a giant thorn in my side.

I had just gotten to my locker when something hit me on the head. It didn't hurt because it was a loosely balled up T-shirt, thrown from maybe seven feet away but it smelled like it had been worn by a pig that had been running for days.

Darren had been a mean kid. And he had grown up to be whatever this was, and I had gotten a little less shy. I was way more vocal about how much I hated him now.

"Ew!" I said loudly as I plucked the offending garment off my head. "Darren, throw that at me again and I will burn it!’

"Come now, Doe, you just want to be able to take my shirt. I bet you want to sleep in it so you can dream of me."

Doe. That’s what he called me now. Jane Doe.

I turned around ready to yell at him but he had moved closer so I could see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, and could feel the heat off his bare chest. He was grinning, his dimples on full display.

The hand that lay on the locker above my head was corded with muscle. It must be from all that basketball he played. It made sense because I knew he played it a lot and-

He chuckled at me and I blinked. Had he said something? "Keep your sweaty shirts away from me Darren," I said, but it didn’t come out angry anymore.

Darren was about to reply when his new girl turned the corner and saw us. She was pretty but I'd heard rumors that Rielle, his ex, was coming for her, and that might pose a threat to her face.

The said face lit up and she walked to us in an outfit that would give me chills to wear, literally and figuratively. The skirt was so tiny it could be a headband and the top didn't have a collar, sleeve, or a back. Though she must be a little cold, she looked hot.

I glanced over at Darren, leaning down to pick up his shirt, the muscle in his back deliciously rippling with the movement. He put it on and walked off toward her. She gripped his bicep and they left.

It was lunch time before I ran into the quieter but just as big, thorn in my side.