Living With The Bad Boy [COMPLETE][VERSION ONE]

Chapter 6

It takes me a lot longer than it should to get back to the sprawling mansion, but eventually I manage, knocking on a side door & praying desperately that someone will answer. I could just go through the front, but I can see my mother and Lizbeth talking as the movers unload boxes of our stuff. I don't want to have to explain to anyone why Jase isn't with me.

When no one answers the door, I knock again, preparing to have to turn around and face my mom and Lizbeth, when the door opens, revealing a petite, middle-aged woman with curly black hair and the most welcoming smile I've ever seen. "You must be Sienna!" she says, bubbly practically exuding from every word. She opens the door wider, ushering me into a small but polished hallway, the wood floors gleaming like they've never seen dirt. The warm smell of ginger cookies wafts through the air and I immediately relax. Soft ginger cookies were what my dad would make for me every time I had a cold. I still remember it now, the way our entire house smelled like warm butter and molasses for days. Normally, the reminder of him would be depressing, but today it relaxes me. Maybe there is a little bit of home, even in a place like this. So I smile at her. "Sienna, that's me," I say, chiding myself internally for being so awkward. "What's your name?"

The woman smiles back at me, bustling over to the oven and taking the cookies out. "I'm Connie," she says. "I'm the cook here. In case you couldn't tell." She reaches a flour-covered hand for me to shake. I take it, her palm warm from the oven but not sweaty. I smile. "It's nice to meet you, Connie."

She walks over to the tray of ginger cookies again, picking one up and coming back over to hand it to me. "Try it. It's my world-famous secret recipe," she winks. I smile back at her, tasting the soft, buttery cookie. "Thamfks," I barely manage to say. I want to stuff my mouth with these cookies. Connie waves a hand. "Anytime," she says nonchalantly. "I'm here on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Find me anytime you need a baked good or some company."

Speaking of finding things...

"Thanks!" I say, smiling at her. "And, by the way, do you happen to know where my room is?"

After several more molasses cookies and a full tour of the mansion (which, by the way, I am still completely unacquainted with), Connie shows me my bedroom and leaves me to finish her pumpkin soup.

My bedroom is insane.

I mean, what was I expecting? This whole fucking house is insane. My room is too big, too empty, cold and bare with dark grey walls and wood-paneled flooring. Some creepy painting of purple dahlias hangs in the corner, watching me. I've tried to remove it several times but it won't come down. The trim is some awful gilded gold color, like the enormous bay window overlooking absolutely nothing but a group of apple trees, curtained with ridiculous silky, white, moth eaten cloth that looks like it's been around longer than George Washington. I kid you not. And my bed- don't even get me started on the bed. It's one of those ridiculous four-posters, only instead of being cozy and Harry-Potter-eque, it's brass and rusted with beady-eyed little cherubs sitting on it, just staring at me from all angles. It's terrifying, and I am one hundred percent going to hit my head on one of the posters in the middle of the night. I already know it.

Though it's half the house away from Jase's room, thank god. Small miracles.

I sigh, trying to hang fairy lights around the cherub spikes, but it just makes them even creepier. Shaking my head, I turn away, sitting down on the bed.

It's not like this room is even and or anything, just a bit creepy. Definitely not something that screams Sienna. But then again, this isn't my room. And that's the problem. My old room was small and always too warm (except when my mom couldn't pay our heating bill). What limited floor space I had was always covered in clothes, past homework assignments, and bits and pieces that I hadn't scrapbooked yet, a piece of fabric here, polaroid there. Sure, it was messy, and it was cheap, but it was mine, and even after my father died, the room was still full of our laughter from all those nights when he had attempted to braid my hair, failing miserably, or from when I convinced him to play pirates with me. This room contains no such memories. Just creepy cherubs. That... seem to be staring directly at me. I shiver, as a particularly menacing one glares at my boobs. I'm not even kidding.

"Mom, please, I can't sleep with their beady eyes staring at me!"

My mother looks at me like she honestly cannot believe that she gave birth to this absolutely dumbass. "Sienna. Do you really expect me to go and ask the woman who very courteously is letting us stay in her house if we can sand your antique bedposts because you're afraid of some 300-year-old wooden cherubs?"

I roll my eyes. "Well, when you say it like that-"

She cuts me off. "Sienna. Stop being ridiculous."

"Does this mean you'll consider it?"

"No!"

Which is how I come to be lying awake at exactly 1:37 a.m., the moonlight from the window just enough to illuminate the bone-chilling shadows.

A/N:

Short chapter today, I'm sorryyyy!! i stg that i'm just sEttiNg tHe mOoD right now, so please keep reading for more Sienna & Jase scenes (*cough cough: the next chapter.*)