Babysitting the Bad Boy's Brother

You would be the dumb blonde in a movie

New chapter up. You guys owe me. ;)

Paganini's Caprice number 4 (above) flows off of my fingers as I sit cross legged on my bed. His caprice is a full three minutes of pure, uninterrupted violinist hell. It sounds halfway decent- seeing that I've been working on this dumb piece for about six months now. Paganini was a violinist himself (he must have hated the violin, because why else would you ever want to torture violinists like this?) and wrote 24 unaccompanied Caprices to, and I quote, "challenge himself".

Congrats, Pag, you've successfully written 24 awful and almost impossible pieces to make violinists everywhere feel bad about themselves. A knocking on my door brings my playing to a halt.

"Yes?"

"Hey Claire...." I hear Becca's voice from the hall. The door opens and in comes a particular German Shepard. "She was laying outside the door. Didn't you hear her scratching?" Malone runs over and jumps up on the bed next to me. She turns around in three circles before plopping herself down.

"I was a little bit busy playing and cursing Paganini simultaneously."

"Yeah, sounds good. I have a question."

"Yes, Becca?"

"Why were there sheets and a guy's jacket in the guest room?"

Fucking Alec.

I look down at my bed spread and fiddle with one of the corners. "That's so bizarre. I have no clue. Maybe dad slept down there?"

"The jacket definitely smelled like weed."

Of course it did

I plaster on my best i-have-no-idea face. "Well... maybe he wore it during a drug bust?" I say innocently.

She raises an eyebrow at me and smirks. "Yeah, okay."

"What's that smirk for?"

"Nothing!"

I roll my eyes. "Get out of my room."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she shifts her body weight to lean against the door frame. "Make me."

I stand up and brush past her. "If you won't leave, then I will. Also, just curious for no particular reason at all.... what did you do with that jacket?"

"It's in the coat closet."

I run down the stairs and swing around the end of banister towards the garage. I then proceed to yank the jacket out from the closet- jesus, Becca wasn't kidding. This jacket really does smell like weed- and head towards the back door. I slide out and pad across the cold pavement (without shoes on, mind you) and out the back gate into the alley.

Thunder rumbles overhead, and a gust of wind blows tendrils of hair around my face. I turn my head towards the sky and grimace at the dark ominous cloud. I'd better make this quick.

The walk to Alec's house takes less than a minute, but in that short amount of time, the weather only gets worse. Giant raindrops start falling as I step onto the porch, I'm barely keeping dry. Fantastic.

I ring the doorbell impatiently and tap my foot. The door opens to reveal a pissed off looking Alec- but let's be real here, is Alec ever not pissed off?

"What." His left eye is still discolored, but the cut on his lip has scabbed over.

"Good afternoon, sunshine. You forgot this when you broke into my house." I hold his jecket out in front of me, and he just stares at it.