My Stepbrother's a Vampire!

2; The Lust

I pound on the bathroom door for the hundredth time. "Alec! Get out!"

My insides clench uncomfortably as I clamp my hands to my crotch. I need to pee, and I need to pee now. But, of course, stupid Alec has decided to lock himself in the bathroom doing what I presume most teenage boys like to do.

Eww!  My subconscious groans. That is beyond gross.

I am still in my sleeping gown, hair unkempt,  breath stale and reeking, and, to top it all of, I am most likely going to be late for class. It won't be so bad for Alec if he is late, considering he is new, but not me. Abruptly, I remember I have History first period with Mr. Sell. Or, as his reputation has deemed him, Mr. Hell. Mr. Sell is the kind of guy who gives students a month's worth detention for chewing gum in lesson.

With renewed panic, I pound on the bathroom door even harder. "Hurry up!"

Finally, Alec opens up, and a cloud of water vapour travels out with him. He wears nothing but a towel draped round his waist. The annoyed expression I have on freezes upon my face, alongside any coherent thought I've been having. For a lean guy, he is muscled, completely equipped with a six pack and pecks. His lustrous hair, damp, clings to his forehead. I noticed there is a tattoo right over his heart. It looks like three petals embedded over a circle. For some reason, the design seems familiar.

"See something you like?" Alec asks amusedly. His eyes trace my transfixed gaze, which is still on his tattoo. Abruptly, he sidesteps so fast around me he is almost a blur. The flawless motion catches me off guard; l I just manage to catch myself from tripping forward. When I look back at Alec, I notice how tense his face has become. He gives me a curt nod, as if I've done something to anger him, and marches back to his room.

Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, my subconscious remarks.

"What a weirdo," I mutter.

After brushing my hair and a quick shower, I rush to the kitchen, grabbing a piece of toast on my way out the back door—that is until mom stops me in my tracks.

"Someone's eager," she comments. "Where's Alec?"

I shrug, body still positioned to leave.

Richard comes into the kitchen then, wearing a sharp suit. He looks as vintage-suave as ever. He walks over to mom, who is also suited in a blouse and pencil skirt, and snakes a hand round her waist, proceeding to offer me a smile. They resemble the perfect business couple.

"Buon giorno, Kara," Richard greets. "I was wondering if you could, ah, do me a favour."

My subconscious folds her arms across her chest in suspicion. "What is it?"

"Well, it's just, Alejandro isn't the most, ah, responsible apple in the orchard. I was just hoping you could keep an eye on him?" He ends hopefully.

N O SPELLS NO WAY! My subconscious argues. But I only sigh resignedly and say, "Sure I can, Richard."

He beams thankfully. "Grazie."

*

Last year, on my sixteenth birthday, mom bought me a car. It is a second hand green Honda which, I admit, is a little run down. But it gets me reliably from point A to B. Emma likes to tease me about it being an OAP vehicle and named it Brenda. I know Brenda isn't the world's prettiest ride, but when Alec steps out of the house and gives her the dirtiest look he can possibly muster, my imaginary hackles rise.

"I am not riding in that," he says, still appraising Brenda as if there is a bad smell under his nose.

"Then walk," I snap from the driver's seat. I stick the key into the ignition and the engine roars tamely to life. Without looking in his direction, I notice Alec stare at Brenda in disgust for another moment or two, before shrugging to himself and strolling casually towards her. He gets into the passenger seat, and I can't help but glance at him. He wears a simple white t-shirt and black jeans, with a pair of sunglasses folded into his breast pocket. And to tie off the whole look, an imaginary rucksack to store his imaginary textbooks.