High School Treachery | ✓

01 | Same Shit, Different House

He rolls his crystal blue eyes, annoyance flooding his face, looking eerily similar to my father, Noah, and myself in that moment. I'm not sure if it's the unnatural, almost white eye color we all carry or the fact that we actually do look alike, but anyone could tell we're all Prince's whenever us four are pissed off. Sometimes it seems as if Dad freaking cloned us in a laboratory and just asked Mom to raise us, because we look nothing like that woman.

My shoulder is gripped extremely hard behind me, and I know it's Noah. Mom wouldn't try manhandling me like that.

"Oh, look who's risen from his nappy. What do you want, NoNo?"

Clearly, he wants his weed, but he won't dare say anything about it in front of Saint Knox. The side-look he gives me shows that. He opens his mouth and then closes it, realizing it's best to just shut up—for once.

He releases my shoulder and brings up his other hand, showing me my phone... my unlocked phone. Oh hell no.

Of course I reach for it and he pulls it away, taking advantage of the few inches of height he has on me and raising it above his head.

"Come on, don't be a dick!" I say while stupidly jumping for the phone.

"I think you know what kind of payment I'll take for the phone back," he says with a wink.

Knox makes a disgusted face. "That sounded kinky."

"If you think that was kinky then you got a lot of pent up tension you need to let out, baby bro. My laptop's sitting on my bed. History hasn't been cleared yet. Go," Noah says, motioning with his hand down the hall, where I assume his room is. I'm still not sure which room's they claimed.

I stop jumping, turning my head and pretending to gag, because what the fuck, I did not need to know any of that.

"You're gross," I say to Noah, as Knox shakes his head and, thankfully, walks toward the opposite direction. Probably going to his mommy.

Noah lets out an immature laugh, clearly pleased with how easy it is for him to disgust his siblings. I take his stupidity as my opportunity to lunge for the phone, successfully clawing it out of his hands.

"Damn, Lynnie. You didn't need to fucking draw blood!" He whines.

"My nails aren't even that long," I state with an eye roll, annoyed with his exaggeration. He could be such a drama queen sometimes.

He takes one last look at his hand, that most certainly is not bleeding, then does a double take down the hallway before reaching his arms out and pushing me into the nearest room.

I look around, embarrassed at how long it's taking me to realize we're in my room.

"Is there something you'd like to return to me, Lynnie?" Noah asks, crossing his arms over his chest, a motion he only makes when trying to come off as intimidating. It always worked with the guys back at Beach Way, but never on me. Noah is as harmless as a ladybug in my eyes. Even if he could beat me in a fist fight, I know he never would.

Besides, how could I be intimidated by him when he calls me Lynnie, the nickname given to me when we were younger because his dumbass couldn't properly pronounce Lyndon. Instead of my parents correcting him, they found it cute that he started calling me a name close to an animated mouse. Our other family members thought it was such an adorable representation of our closeness, when really, I had wanted to smack him whenever he called me it.

Thank God Knox was always so articulate.

"Nah," I finally say back to him, then motion with my hands around the room. "Now, unless you wanna help unpack my shit, I suggest you get out of here."