Underneath //H.S. AU

three.

On the walk back to my building, I had the most unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something about that guy just pissed me off entirely. Even though I had only just met him, I know for sure I had no desire to ever experience his company again. Hopefully I never will, he definitely isn't smart enough to get into a university like St. George's but part of me does wonder what he was doing there.

Before I could ponder it further, I was back in my own little studio apartment around the corner. I sighed as I placed my textbooks on the counter and kicked my shoes off. I unraveled the scarf I had around my neck and tucked a piece of stray hair behind my ear and practically screamed when I noticed Aubrey sitting on the sofa, sipping out of a martini glass.

"Where were you?" she asks nonchalantly, as if her popping into my apartment without my consent is a normal occurring event.

"Christ, you scared me you little shit," I said half laughing, playfully throwing my scarf at her.

She ducked, careful to not let her drink spill out of the half-circular shaped glass and pushed the scarf off of her like it was some infectious disease. "What are those?"

I turned to where she was looking and my stomach nearly dropped when I noticed that it was my textbooks. I gulped hard as I scrambled back over to the table to scoop them up and hide them under my bed. "Oh uh nothing just a few books for my . . . brother. I was going to send them to him," I hope I sounded at least somewhat believable.

"Your brother, the one that used to supply us pot is studying . . . Respiratory Physiology?" she questioned, standing up from her position on the couch.

"Yeah . . . uh, it's weird he just like, totally changed his life around. He's actually trying out the whole school thing," I tried to sound convincing. It didn't sound like I was succeeding but depending upon how many drinks Aubrey's had, I might have a chance.

Besides, it's not like anyone wouldn't believe that Jaxon was trying to do something with his life. On second thought, his antics have gotten worse lately. Last I heard from him he was selling the answer key to the SATs in order to save money to get his own place once he graduates high school. Since I haven't gotten any notice of him from then, I assumed he hasn't gotten caught. 

I don't blame him for wanting to get out; he may as well be living on his own now. Mom is constantly drunk and there's no one in the house to take care of him with me being a whole country away. I feel bad for abandoning him when Aubrey and I had landed a modeling contract here, but my little brother has learned to take care of himself at the age of five. A horrible fate, but life isn't always fair as I well know.

"Right . . . well anyway," she downed the rest of the martini, "get out of those hideous clothes and get your sexy face on, we're going clubbing." She stood up and walked to my full length mirror I had against the wall to look at herself up close. She sure looked hot in her hardly-even-covers-her-perfect-ass leather black dress. I hope for her sake that she's wearing underwear. I mean, that was probably a long shot though.

"Are you implying that my face isn't sexy all the time?" I fake gasped, bending down and stealing the olive from her drink with my teeth.

"Yeah, yeah, hot stuff. Would you just go put on the outfit I laid out on your bed?" she demanded while fluffing up her freshly curled hair.

"You went through my things?" I asked, starting to get defensive. I hate when she does that. It's also a major anxiety booster; what if she finds more of my books from University?

"What's your deal, I've done it a million times," she quipped, chuckling as though we were sisters who shared clothes all the time and it would be weird if we didn't have at least one invasion of privacy per day. This is pretty ironic though, since Aubrey is not the biggest sharer at all.