"I have nothing to wear," I announced to Emmett. I was standing in the kitchen in my pajamas, beyond frustrated. "Last time I checked, you have a closet full of clothes," he informed me, as he poured himself a cup of coffee. I groaned. Boys don't ever understand. "Nothing that says, hey everybody I'm back after taking a year off." "I think a pair of jeans and a t-shirt says that just fine." "You're hopeless." "You have 45 minutes, so get a move on." This is impossible. I went back to my bedroom, throwing open my closet doors again. Nothing. I began to leaf through my clothes, sighing as I realized that the perfect outfit wasn't going to jump out at me. So I picked out a sundress and a pair of sandals, slapping on some makeup and curling my hair. "You look nice," Emmett informed me, as I came back out into the kitchen. "Shut up." He slid me a plate with an omelet on it. "You're welcome." I took a seat at the counter, taking a bite of the omelet. "Nice job." "I am the best." I rolled my eyes, munching on my omelet as Emmett slid another plate next to me. "For you?" I asked, my mouth full of food. "For me," Parker corrected, taking a seat next to me. "Now I don't feel so special anymore," I informed Emmett, as I stuffed more of the omelet into my mouth. "Very graceful," Parker commented, rolling his eyes. I stuck my tongue out at him, causing him to shake his head at me. "And mature," he added. "Cut it out," Emmett ordered, placing his omelet down across the table from us. Parker finished off his omelet before me and then headed back to his room. "Five minutes!" Emmett called after him. "I hear you!" Parker called, and then his door slammed shut. "I still don't understand why he had to move in here," I muttered, finishing off my omelet. "Ready for your first day back?" Emmett asked. "Not really." "There's that optimism I know and love." I rolled my eyes, standing up. "Let's just get this over with." "And that enthusiasm." ~*~ "I've missed you," Hannah gushed, wrapping her arms around me. Yeah, I could really tell by all the texts and phone calls I got from you. Not. "Missed you too," I answered, giving her a quick hug in return. "School just hasn't been the same without you," she informed me, as I switched my books out in my locker. Someone please make her go away. "Remember Daniel Hawthorne?" Of course I remember Daniel Hawthorne. "Oh, silly me. Of course you do. Well he's-" "Hannah, so good to see you," Michelle said, coming up behind the two of us. "Michelle!" Hannah squealed, with an excited smile. "Hey girl, I was just filling Emily in on what she's missed." "I'm sure she totally appreciates it," Michelle said, with a smile. "But Mr. Waters is actually looking for you Em." "Oh darn," Hannah said, with a pout. "We'll definitely have to catch up later then." "Definitely," I agreed, swinging my backpack over my shoulder before following Michelle down the hallway and around the corner. "You're welcome," Michelle said, nudging me. "I could wring her neck." "Graphic much?" I rolled my eyes, pulling my phone out of my backpack and answering Emmett's text. He's been obsessively overprotective today. And as I looked up from my phone, I saw the profile of Daniel Hawthorne. I grabbed Michelle's arm and pulled her into the nearby janitor's closet. "What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, rubbing her arm. "Daniel Hawthorne." Michelle stared at me for a couple of moments. "You're going to hide in a janitor's closet from Daniel?" "Yes." Call me a coward, but I'm not quite ready to face the music on that one yet. "This is ridiculous," Michelle huffed. "Grow some balls and face him like a man." I rolled my eyes, peering out of the window of the janitor's closet. The coast was clear. We both stepped out, receiving some odd looks as we continued our walk to class. "Emily!" Paula called, hurrying down the hallway towards me. I let out a soft groan, wishing for her to disappear. But she didn't, instead giving me a tight hug. So I hugged her back, plastering a fake smile on my face. "I've missed you so much!" How many times have I heard that one today? "Missed you too," I said, with my fake smile. "How is everything? God, it seems like forever!" "Everything's good." Maybe she'd get the hint that I really just don't want to talk to her. "We need to catch up." The copout line. Usually I was the one to use it, but I couldn't be happier that she was the one deciding to use it right now. "We totally do!" "I'll text you?" "You have the number." She kissed both my cheeks before speed walking down the hallway, calling after Anna. "The best thing about Paula," Michelle said, linking her arm through mine, "is that she doesn't give two shits about much of anything." "And she's a flake," I pointed out. "That too." And then I spotted Veronica Mahoney, comic book nerd. Or should I say former comic book nerd. Her bleach blonde hair fell over her shoulders in waves, her body curving in all the right places, accentuated by her tight shirt and short shorts. "Yeah," Michelle said, filling in my thoughts. "That's Veronica." "Wow." Parker came up behind Veronica, and she giggled for him, wrapping her arms around his neck before pecking him on the lips. "And that's Parker." Disgusting. "I thought she was Emmett's new toy," I pointed out, as we finally reached our American History class. "Veronica? Please. She's putting it out for anyone willing to take it." I couldn't help but snort-laugh at that one. "Graceful," Parker commented, as he passed by me with Veronica firmly planted on his hip. "Classy," I commented back, with a smirk. He raised his eyebrows at me, clearly surprised that I'd managed to come up with something that quick. Point for Emily. ~*~ "So was it that bad?" Emmett asked, as I reached into the refrigerator. "It would've been eight times better if you hadn't been texting me every 15 minutes," I informed him, shooting him a glare. He flashed me an innocent smile. I unscrewed the top on the Gatorade, pouring myself a glass. "Does Parker drink from this too?" "Nah, just the OJ and the milk." Great. So I'll be bleaching my mouth tonight. "I'm out of here, working till 8. You good here?" I reached up and pecked him on the cheek. "I'm good here." He smiled at me before grabbing his car keys, whistling on his way out as he swung his keys around his finger. That just left me. Parker was out, probably with non-nerdy Veronica. So I tip-toed over to Emmett's record collection, pulling out my favorite Vinyl. Grease. I placed it on the record player, letting the vinyl play through as I danced along and started on some homework. But it's really hard to concentrate on homework when John Travolta is confessing his love for you. And then came the song everybody knows and loves, Grease Lightning. So naturally I had to jump up on the coffee table, dancing around like an idiot. Towards the end of the song I heard laughter, and I turned to see Parker standing behind me, an amused smile on his face. I let out scream, falling back off the coffee table in shock. My tailbone was definitely going to bruise later. "Very nicely done," Parker said, slowly clapping for me as I stood up. That jackass didn't even come to check and see if I was alright. "How long have you been standing there?" "Long enough to tell you that you don't have much of an ass Emily Winston, but what you do have, you make it work." "Asshole." "Really though, those were some topnotch dance moves. Have you ever considered So You Think You Can Dance?" I threw a pillow at his face. He laughed, batting the pillow down. "Where's Emmett?" "Work." "Of course he is. You're making dinner then?" I raised my eyebrows at him. "Excuse me?" "You're making dinner?" he repeated. "Why would you assume that?" He smirked at me. "Why Emily, didn't you check the schedule on the refrigerator?" "What schedule?" "You have a lot to learn young grasshopper." He tossed the pillow back at me before walking back to his room, chuckling to himself. I walked over to the refrigerator, scanning the random shit that was plastered on the front. Emmett's work schedule stuck out first and foremost, but underneath it was kitchen rotation. Tonight was my night to cook and clean the dishes. Parker reappeared in the kitchen. "I see you located the schedule." He opened the refrigerator, pulling out the orange juice. "I guess," I muttered, still unhappy about having to cook dinner. Emmett always used to cook for me back when just the two of us shared an apartment. "What?" Parker asked, screwing the orange juice cap back on and sliding it back into the refrigerator. "Does the princess not know how to cook?" I placed both hands on my hips, cocking an eyebrow. "What did you just call me?" "A princess," he informed me, wiping his sleeve across his face. "I mean, let's not play dumb here. We both know that you're a stuck-up rich girl." "Excuse me?" "Daddy's little rich girl," Parker continued, rolling his eyes. "You take off school for a year to travel to London, and oh let's not forget the fit you threw on Saturday during lunch with your parents. What? Was the Lamborghini they offered you the wrong color?" This son of a bitch. "You don't know anything about me Parker Adams," I warned, folding my arms across my chest. "So as far as I'm concerned, you can make your own damn dinner." I took in a deep breath, letting it slowly to control my anger. "And next time you want to talk shit about someone, know your facts first. Because for your information, I didn't travel London for a year. And I'm certainly not a daddy's girl." And then I turned on my heel and stormed back to my bedroom. I should've slapped him across his pretty boy face. Next time.