· Battle of the Bitches ·

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Alyssa's POV

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Emma pushes the cereal box across the table towards me and I take it, avoiding grandma's eyes on me. She's been staring at me for a long time, gripping her coffee mug tightly and taking small sips. 

I slosh some milk in my bowl and begin to eat. Grandma's eyes don't leave my face. 

The back door suddenly opens and grandma's eyes finally shift from me to Grayson who walks into the kitchen, his hair all soaked and his boots crusted with mud. 

"Morning!" he grins.

I think Grayson is the only person capable of being in a good mood at eight in the morning. 

"Hey, honey, how was the ride? Not bumpy, I hope"

"It was okay. They're just getting their bags from the car"

I feel myself frown. Who's here?

"Who's here?" Emma asks, stepping in before I can. 

Grandma looks nervous as she avoids eye contact. Grayson also looks a little guilty but plays it off with a smile. 

"Angela and uncle Tom"

I feel my insides flare up with annoyance. I hate my cousin with a passion and everyone in the family knows there's tension between us. Now they're putting us in the same house together? Plus, grandma said there were bags. Bags means staying. Bags means a long stay.

"How long?" I ask.

My tone comes out pricklier than I intended and Grayson raises a warning eyebrow. I ignore it. 

"It's just for a week, honey. Their house is getting renovated and they needed somewhere to stay. So where better than family?"

"Anywhere but here, maybe?" I mutter.

"Alyssa, be nice," Grayson sighs. "I know you two don't get along but we're family, whether you like it or not"

"But it's not fair!" I argue. "You know we don't get along yet you keep pushing us together!"

"Alyssa!" Grayson says firmly. "You will make Angela feel welcome. If you don't, then we can have a little chat about it later"

"Fine," I mutter, knowing better than to argue with Grayson right now. 

"Thank you," he beams. 

I roll my eyes when he turns his back and force a smile onto my face when Angela and Uncle Tom come through the door. They're soaked from the rain and I relish the fact that Angela looks like a drowned rat. Her curly black hair does her no justice as it stays plastered to her forehead. 

I run a hand down my own dry wavy brown hair and smirk at Angela. She looks how I feel about her being here, but I don't let it show. 

Uncle Tom and I hug but when I start to greet Angela she walks past me instead. I shoot Grayson a look and he sighs. 

Grandma leads them upstairs to their rooms and I sit back down at the table. Once Uncle Tom and Angela are out of earshot I let out a chuckle. 

"Oh, this should be a fun week"

"Alyssa," Grayson warns. 

"What?" 

Emma cracks a smile. "You two are impossible!"

"She's impossible," I correct, taking my cereal bowl to the sink. "And now my week is ruined"

"Do you have to be so dramatic?" Gray says, pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

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