I Woke Up Next To A Half-Naked Bad Boy in School [22] And He Suddenly Made Me His Personal Slave?!

"Oh my god! You're so pretty!"
I didn't know if that was the reaction that Andrea gave to everyone who was making out with her little brother, but I blushed furiously and thanked her. "I'm Andrea," she said, smiling. "My name's Samantha," I replied, shaking her hand.
Andrea was really stunning with her light brown hair flowing behind her back and her big blue eyes looking at us. Brandon didn't acknowledge her. Poor guy was baffled by the sudden interruption. "So...how did you two met?"
Brandon gave a snort of laughter while I tried my best to suppress mine.
"I think it's best to keep that a secret for a while," Brandon said, back in his calm demeanor. Andrea raised her eyebrow at Brandon. "What does father have to say about you coming here today?"

"He let me," Brandon said, his lips twitching. "But of course, I have to carry a BlackBerry around all the time. What are you doing here anyway? How can you get out of work?"

"I just noticed our company have a limited time of 3 weeks off," she murmured. "I took one week off. So Samantha," Andrea said, almost cooing my name out. I jumped out of my trance and stared back at her questioningly.

"D'you reckon you could go shopping with me tomorrow?"

I swore I almost broke down in tears, got on my knees with my eyes shooting upwards screaming, "No! NOOOO!!"

After the shopping spree with Evelyn, I was pretty sure that my feet were still injured by blisters weeks after that.

Brandon, sensing my panic, shook his head. "I think the last thing she wants is to go to town. It was a long drive from Detroit to here anyway, and I was planning to be with her the entire day."

I shot him a look of gratitude.

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I adjusted my blouse nervously. Brandon was called by a friend of his back in Detroit. I knew who that 'friend' of his was. Dave Holloway had got to be the most active prankster in our times. He came up with so many different ideas - and I had a feeling Brandon and his devilish side had something to do with one fourth of them.

He didn't get his reputation in school doing absolutely nothing.

The first time he stepped into Clover Hills, I remembered the time that his fist connected to a student's jaw. Everyone was watching him, and he got a detention after that. It was amazing that he didn't get expelled.

"So you're...living with my son," Rachel Laurent said skeptically, managing to yank myself out of my daydream and planted my feet firmly on the ground. In her case, I wouldn't be surprised if she screwed it to the ground.

I had been sitting on the patio for two hours or so now with Brandon's mother, Rachel. The temperature was surprisingly cool today, but maybe that's the effect of the lake. Far away, I could see a city. It would probably take an hour to arrive there.

"I suppose," I replied, hearing myself laughing...almost hysterically.

This woman intimidate me so much. Now I knew where Brandon got his first impression charm.

Rachel took a sip of the coffee. "The weather's perfect today," I blurted, out of pressure of trying to talk about something. Anything. "I was expecting it to be hot this summer but..."

She was staring at me intently - not in a good way. Flustered, I took my cup of tea and drank the entire thing. But it tasted like crap. I never really liked herbs, so I ended up gagging on the taste. "Err..." Rachel trailed off. Gosh, I was really an alien to her.

"I'll just take these into the kitchen and do the dishes," I said quickly, excusing myself and getting up from the chair. "You'll do that?"

"Of course I will!" I said, a bit too enthusiastic. Rachel was still looking with me with that deadpan expression of hers, before she uttered, "Fine. If it won't be any trouble, then could you dust the entire house too? The laundry needs to be done too...and I would appreciate it if the floors would be swept."

Huh?

Well, I suppose I could help! Yup, Rachel Laurent was nice enough to err...welcome me in her home. I should repay her. But as she kept instructing me to do this and that, I couldn't help but felt as if she was using me to do her chores.

But never mind about that. It was probably just a...you know, one-off thing.

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I hated washing machines. But with so many designer clothes, Rachel specifically asked me to hand wash it rather than dumping it all into the washing machine. And that was how I spent half of the afternoon washing the clothes.

I didn't see Brandon at all after lunch. He said he had to go somewhere in town for a brief meeting. I was beginning to worry about him though, because when he left, he looked as if he saw a ghost. On the other hand, Andrea was outside, sitting near the lake with her laptop on.

She was supposed to finish a report about the new web building software the company wanted to launch, but it had a few bugs and it was still in beta and...well other things that I couldn't really understand. Something about flash and stuff.

Honestly, when I talked to her about it I felt as if I was talking in another foreign language with her.

I desperately wanted to join her, to see how a bright young woman as her do all of that reports. But instead, after I did laundry, I went to clean the windows.

But no matter what I did, I was making it dirtier - and I have no idea why!

I wiped it more vigorously, and one window took me at least 10 minutes to clean. Gosh, who knew house-cleaning would take a lot of practice?

I stopped by the kitchen to get a drink for myself. It was already dark, and Andrea was cooking dinner that night because she wanted to show how good of a cook she became to Rachel. They started talking about Richard Compton, and how Andrea was sympathetic towards Brandon of having to plunge into a corporate world at such a young age.

Rachel, I realized, was hostile to even Andrea. Much to my surprise, Andrea wasn't fond of her mother either. She told me the night that I slept in the same room with her that she didn't know why Brandon was so blinded towards Rachel's attitude towards him.

And the most shocking of all of the stories she told me that night was that Rachel didn't even want to have them in the first place. All Rachel did was use them, and the only reason she defended Andrea was to get even with Richard.

I asked Andrea the real reason why she came here. She said she loved this place because of the atmosphere in summer time, and I couldn't agree with her more. It was cozy, and definitely not as hot as it was in the city of Detroit.

The Compton family was so hard to understand that I almost gave up trying to do so. I knew there was this complicated bond between the children to their mother, and Andrea was trying to make her parents proud of her despite what she told me about how overbearing Rachel could be sometimes and how Andrea felt as if she could never reach her parents high level of expectations. So she decided to be a rebel and go against his father's orders of working with the company.

Rachel wanted her to be a woman of science, but she chose IT instead.

"The heat shouldn't be too high," Andrea said, her face had white spots of flour on it and her hair was sticking up in every awkward angle you could imagine. "If it's set too high, you'll burn the crisp outside but in fact, inside...it's still raw and uncooked."

So far, I didn't know if I should be worried. What was that smell anyway?

Both of Andrea and I turned our heads towards the smell of smoke, and sure enough...the oven was spitting out thick, grey smoke. "Oh no! The roasted chicken!" she wailed, scampering towards the oven.

POP!

Oh no, what was wrong now?!

While Andrea was dealing with the oven, I looked around the kitchen and saw that the microwave-oven was emitting bright sparks. The peas in it was bouncing on and off the plastic door of the microwave-oven, and I pulled out the plug as soon as I could.

Releasing a scream of frustration, I yanked the door open and saw that the peas turned black. I heard a 'BANG!' to my left and saw Andrea throwing the tray of roasted chicken onto the countertop. It was completely black to the point of no repair.

"Err...don't judge a book by it's cover?" Andrea said warily. My eyes darted around the messy kitchen. Plastic bowls were on top of each other, and some of them were on the floor. Eggshells were scattering all over the island, and chunks of badly cut tomatoes were in the sink.

And so far, we broke 3 knives, melted the ladle (god know's how that happened - it was plastic anyway), snapped the fork and spoons in half and shattered an ugly mug. Over at the stove--

The chicken soup! How the-- what the--?!

"Oh my god! Andrea!!" I wailed, and she gasped in horror when she saw the soup, spilling out of the pot like a steady stream of river. Remember the Magic Porridge Pot story where the girl says, "Cook, little pot, cook!" and the pot magically cooked porridge? Yeah, this was the real life magic pot.

"STOP! STOP!" Andrea said, turning the fire down, but it was still spilling all over the floor. I made a mistake of trying to 'push' the soup back into the pot on impulse, and managed to scald my hand. I withdrew my hands right away and yanked open the refrigerator's door before pressing my hand onto the cold surface.

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Brandon's jaw dropped to the floor when he saw his mother's kitchen turned into something out of a horror movie went wrong. I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration and pulled myself away from the fridge.

"I...was just checking what the fuss was all about," he said, his voice cracked. Rachel swooped inside the kitchen, but she was looking inside her purse, oblivious to her destroyed kitchen. We all froze in anticipation.

"Sorry to say but--" she started, not sounding sorry at all. "--I have a friend of mine waiting for me in the house just a few miles from here," she said, eerily calm. "I'll leave the house to you then."

Andrea and Brandon exchanged looks, and I felt something that resembles like burning rage. Andrea was cooking the dinner for her family, and their mother ditched them for a friend who lived just a couple of miles away...while her kids were here just for a couple of weeks!

While I was practically seething, Brandon walked over to the burned peas calmly after a few more minutes of shock. "What are these supposed to be? Rabbit's crap?"