I Woke Up Next To A Half-Naked Bad Boy in School [28] And He Suddenly Made Me His Personal Slave?!

"What is your problem?!" Brandon repeated again. I was blocking his voice out for the entire lecture he gave me, and there wasn't even any tea. Liar.

"I don't have any problems," I said coolly, playing with a strand of my hair. After weeks being with Brandon, surprisingly I wasn't even really intimidated by him anymore. I still felt the adrenaline rush that I had a couple of minutes ago, where I single-handedly threw a fistful of sugar flowers towards Rachel Laurent.

Who knew throwing sugar flowers could be so satisfying?

"My mother tried to help you," he said, his voice stern. I cocked an eyebrow. And when did that happened? "And this is how you repay--"

All the while he was talking, I slid off from the stool and walked over to him. I was about to retort some remarks to defend myself, but instead I slapped him. Whatever dream Brandon was in all of this time, he's got to wake up from it.

"That was actually an accident," I muttered. "But I'm not sorry."

"Don't you think you deserve a little bit better, Brandon?" I asked, crossing my arms haughtily. "She doesn't care. She does not care," I repeated, more slowly as if I was speaking to a dumbass of a 3-year-old.

"I'm sorry, I really am. Maybe I'm not the one who could judge her so cruelly, but for these past few weeks, I spend so much time with her to know that she doesn't. All she cares about is getting even with your father," I muttered. I wasn't exactly lying. I knew this on the evening that she got a bit...drunk.

"And since when did she help?" I said hurriedly when I saw him open his mouth to retort. "If working someone half to death is help than she's doing a marvelous job on it," I said sarcastically. If we were in a cartoon show, his ears would be steaming out smoke by now.

But when I looked up, I saw that he had a look on his face. The look when he's trying to figure out what someone said as if it was the most important thing in the world. For a moment there, I thought I might have struck a string of nerves too hard.

Maybe I should...push him more to a different point of view...

"And," I started again. "You have been out all the time. I rarely see you at home anymore. So you don't really know what's going on! I've been having sleepless nights because of what? I can't find a helium tank? And after I finally found it right after I've been harassing people at 2 in the morning, your mother decided that she didn't want balloons. She wanted a 7 foot tall ice sculpture of a Greek goddess instead...in the middle of the summer heat, where it could melt into a puddle in less than a hour," I said monotonously.

As I finally heard what I was saying, I felt the need to laugh mixed with the urge to cry.

"Sam--"

"I'll be in my room," I said, cutting him off. My voice was quivering. I felt horribly fatigued, and I couldn't bear to look at anyone...especially Brandon, and especially that devil-in-the-flesh, Rachel.

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I didn't know why I was packing my clothes back into the bag I had with me, it was not like I could magically sprout wings from my back and fly away from this place. It was such a beautiful place, and yet I couldn't even appreciate that due to my anger towards Rachel.

But that was hours ago. I was lying on my back, staring at the ceiling in a dazed trance. Believe it or not, after not being able to sleep for many nights, I was still wide awake in the middle of the room. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't sleep.

Everyone had left. I was clueless as to what happened after Brandon dragged me into the kitchen, but I pretty much didn't care. Rachel would hate me forever for what I did to her. She would probably be sitting in a lotus position in her room, with voodoo dolls of me around her.

The door creaked open, and I sat up straight instantly. "So this is what you do all day? Sit around daydreaming?" Brandon asked. I rolled my eyes and plopped my body down to the bed again. "Go away," I groaned. "I'm sure you're here to lecture me about how great and kind and a saint of your mother is," I said, with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

"On the contrary, I'm here to apologize."

"Are you deluded?" I shot back, perplexed.

"I know right? I've been apologizing a lot lately, and all because of a 17-year-old, err..currently pissed off girl," he said, sitting on the edge of my bed. "How low could I go?" he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes, yes your highness," I said sarcastically. "I know I'm a peasant and you're such a great king."

Of jackasses.

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, a bit harshly. "I wanted to stay away from you the moment I realized that I'm feeling...such things that I couldn't really understand," he said. "You're such a funny, kind...if not a bit naive, girl you know that?"

Was that meant to be a compliment?

"You're right," he said.

"And what made you think that?" I asked, out of curiosity. He smirked. "Let's just say, I walked back to the party earlier and saw my mother had called you an insensitive bitch who didn't took her meds today."

I couldn't really say that surprised me. My lips twitched in amusement, but I won't laugh. Not now, at least. "Out of my own curiosity...I asked her something...like you know, when I was a child and everything. Just to see if you're right."

Oh Brandon, I thought with a pang of guilt growing in my chest. He shouldn't have ask that. Who knows what that woman was capable of?

He shrugged nonchalantly when he saw my expression. "She doesn't know a thing about me, but she do know about the history and records of Compton Industries for some reason," he said, grinning.

"Let me guess, in finance, the most?" I said before I could think straight. He laughed. "Yeah, exactly that."

We suddenly grew silent. I hid my face behind a pillow just to stop myself from laughing. I felt light and giddy ever since Brandon walked into the room, actually. "You're going to suffocate yourself," he said, annoyed at my stupidity as he pulled the pillow away from me.

"It's breathable," I said, rolling my eyes. Contrary to the previous moment of silence we had, this one was a bit awkward. But thankfully enough, for the first time in that horrible week, I finally dozed off to a peaceful slumber.

There was another thing though.

Before my mind drifted off to my psychedelic dreamland, I could've swore that I heard someone muttered something alone the lines of, "I love you."