The Undercover Streetfighter✔ {Under Editing}

Chapter 11

Turns out dad did buy my lie. He thinks I'm in a normal high school where both girls and boys are mixed. And when I told him that I had been chosen for tutoring he gave me a deadly, bone-crushing hug, patting my head awkwardly and telling me that he was proud of me. What am I? Five? It was awkward. So, so, so awkward. 

All this time, I was just thinking about the stack of money that is now hidden in one of drawers in my cupboard. What will happen when  he finds about them? I'm going to be so dead. Should I lie to him. No, he's going to find out anyways. . .

But as usual thinking about something too much always tends to make me sleepy. So, a few minutes later, my eyes shut close and I fell into a deep sleep.

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"LA LA LA! LA LA LA LA LA LA!!!" Dylan sang at the top of his lungs. With my eyes still shut, I threw the nearest pillow I could find in the direction I heard him singing. I relaxed into my bed even more when I realized that he had stopped singing. But, as if confirming my thoughts wrong, Dylan sang even louder this time. I absolu-freaking-lutely hate him! This is the worst possible way of human torture!

He sang to this point that I felt as if my eardrums were going to burst. Suddenly, I shot up out of bed and Dylan shrieked.

He widened his eyes and ran away from me; nothing can stop me from chasing Dylan when I was mad, even tiredness and considering the house was so small, I caught him with ease and held him tight with me as I bent down since I was taller than him.

I grinned evilly at him as a wicked thought came into my mind.

"Dylan, you want to get out?" I asked sweetly and he nodded cautiously. "You're going to have to say this: my dear sister also known as the queen of the world, please pardon me as I beg for mercy!" I ordered dramatically.

His jaw dropped down. "NO!" he answered a bit too quickly.

"Are you sure about that?" I asked as I held him tight with one hand and wiggled the fingers on my other hand.

"N-no! Roxy! NO TICKLING!!" he pleaded.

"Then say it," I said shrugging the wicked smile still on my face.

"NO!"

"You asked for it," I said lowly before tickling him really hard. He burst out laughing as I tickled him in his soft spots.

"S-st-stop! R-Rox-ROXY!!!!" he begged.

And just like always, my dad entered the living room with his cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

"You guys are still here! GET INTO THE BATHROOM AND CHANGE, BOTH OF YOU ARE LATE!!!" he screamed at us, looking at his watch and shaking his head in disappointment.

Indeed, we were late. In fact we were VERY late...

I rushed into the bathroom and put some paste onto my brush and slid it back and forth sideways on my teeth and with the brush in my mouth; I headed into my room to take out my outfit for the day.

Somehow, since my favorite color is black, 75% of my closet is filled with black clothes. 

So, deciding to go with the color black I picked out my black hoodie (don't judge but I've got a hoodie of almost every single color, there are more hoodies in my closet than there are shirts and jeans) and paired it up with a plain white shirt( I hate designs) and put on some loose black jeans(my personal favorite are skinny jeans but I can't go with them to school because everyone will judge me and think how I look so 'feminine': I quote precisely)