Yeah, I Hate You Too, Sweetheart.

Chapter 5 - Laila

"Shut up and play with this," I said, and then chucked a floaty rubber duck at him.

    

  It bounced off his head with a squeak.

 

"Jerk!" he shouted after me, chucking the floaty rubber duck at my back.

   I ignored him and stepped into the house, shutting the back door as I went. I swear the second my right foot touched the fluffy carpet in the living room, Miranda, the Richards' elderly and very British housekeeper appeared out of nowhere before me.

  "Gah!" I gasped, banging into the back door.

"I just vacuumed the carpets, Miss Laila," Miranda sighed exasperatedly. "Please try not to get them that wet."

  After thrusting a fluffy white towel into my hands, she disappeared just as suddenly as she had appeared. I kind of had a sinking feeling that I wasn't going to be able to get away with much while I was here.

   As soon as I'd toweled off as best I could, I skipped my way up the flight of stairs to the guest bedroom I was staying in, dashed to the bathroom, and yanked the shower faucet on. For all I was paying attention, I could have stood underneath the flow of warm, pounding water for hours and I wouldn't have cared. Kim and Laurence Richards were so rich I doubted that using up all of their hot water would really matter in the slightest.

  When the flow of water began to make me shiver, I twisted the faucet off and hopped out of the shower, grabbing a towel off of the rack. When I was considerably dried off, I made my way back into the guest bedroom and slipped into the first pair of clothes my hands came in contact with - an old Bob Marley t-shirt and a sort of raggedy pair of jeans. But who cared if I was wearing frumpy clothing?

 This was supposed to be my vacation, after all….even if I suspected that I was going to hate every minute of every day that I was here.

 

  I could've slapped myself for feeling like I was supposed to be dressing to impress Justin or something. As if. He should be the one impressing me.

  

  I yanked a brush through my already wavy, tangled hair and pulled it up into a messy twist, then left the bedroom. Where I was going, I had no idea. But since I skipped lunch, I figured I could make up for it by finding something in the kitchen.

Only there was one problem.

   Where was the kitchen?

  "Looking for the kitchen?"

  "Ack!"

  I let out a strangled yelp and almost went tumbling down the last flight of stairs and into the marble-tiled foyer.

  "You could, like, not sneak up on me, you know," I scowled up at Justin once I'd regained my footing.