Totally Inappropriate *UNDER EDITING*

Totally Inappropriate

A man cannot be comfortable without his own approval- Mark Twain

Chapter One

I didn't survive long on my own.

It was to be expected, of course. I think even I knew that. I had just turned eighteen when I left, and I was found three months later in the beginning of January. Just in time for the new school semester, which started the next day. Great.

The day after the club was raided was a warm one, unusually so for the season. I could remember how sweat had coated my body in a thin sheen, my minimal clothing clinging to me, and how it had made the young police officer stare. I wanted to comment on the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he gulped, eyes scanning my legs, but figured it wasn't a smart idea to piss off the police when I'd just been caught dancing as a minor. I was right.

"Considering your... circumstances... we'll let it go this time. You'll be going to a couple who used to be friends with your parents." The young officer said it gently, as though I was fragile and still hadn't gotten over my parents' death after a good thirteen years. Yet again, I resisted the urge to make some smartass comment.

As I folded my legs, he watched them again, this time with a tiny bit of shame in his eyes. At least he knew what he was doing was wrong. "That's very generous of you," I said instead of some witty insult. The compliment felt dry on my tongue and I immediately wanted to take it back.

He blushed, looking about twelve years old. Maybe some leeway could be given- I was wearing hotpants and fishnet stockings- but I would've thought a guy of the law would have more self-control. (This was saying something, considering I had absolutely none. And yet there I was, missing insult opportunities left, right and centre.)

"When can I leave?" I asked, inspecting my nails. The shade of red vanish I'd applied had chipped, but I didn't mind. It really wasn't my colour.

"When your new guardians get here, I think."

Not surprising. I doubted they would've let me make my own way there after my little charade back at the club. As though sensing my thoughts, the officer smirked. He was probably trying to look superior after making an ass of himself checking me out or something. "You know, that stunt you pulled earlier was stupid. You wouldn't have had to wear cuffs if you'd just come quiet."

"Yeah, well," I sighed, "'quiet' really isn't in my nature." I decided to change topic. If we kept talking about that, I'd most-likely lose any control I had going on and start yelling at him about I shouldn't have had to wear the stupid cuffs either way. Well, in truth, if I had been a cop and had someone attack me, I probably would've done the same, but I wasn't a cop. I was a teenager who tended to dislike authoritative figures. "So what are these peoples' names? My new guardians?"

The officer told me all about them before they came to collect me. Their names were Lilith and Richard Rendenville, they were both forty-four years old and they had a son who was also going to be a senior, Benjamin. They lived in a town called Rendenville not too far away, nowhere I'd heard of, and lived in a 'huge mansion.' (The officer's words, not mine.) Already, I liked them. Well, more than my last carers, anyway.  They had been the last family members I had to take me in, my mother's sister and her husband, and had so obviously made it clear they thought of me as a nuisance. It was like I'd asked my parents to die, just so I could be dumped on their doorstep, with the way they were acting. Sure, they had a son to care for and probably didn't have the best-paying jobs in the world, but couldn't they have been a little more discrete about their irritation with me? Or maybe there was just no compassion left in the world anymore.

After an hour or so of being baby-sat by the officer, his intercom made a buzzing sound and an older, irritated-sounding voice said, "Bring the girl down, Keith. Mr and Mrs Rendenville are here." He- Keith- gestured for me to follow him and I did, trying not to trip in the platform heels I wore. I almost wished the club had been busted earlier last night; I would've had to dance in them less. They clattered loudly on the marble floors of the station, making several people look up at me, some in disdain and some in arousal like Keith had. I had a young-looking face, I'd been told, but my clothing threw them off.