My New Stepbrother

23

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After a somewhat smooth first day back to school, Yasmine and I decided to go to the mall. We practically dominated this mall during the summer—and I doubted things would change now that we had to worry about insignificant little tasks like, "homework." Homework for me was always subjective, and never really mandatory in my eyes. Although, I should be at home doing it because, somehow, I already had a ton and it was just the first day back.

"There's like, no hot guys here today." Yasmine said sighing.

"Aww...boo you." I pouted playfully while sipping on a mango banana smoothie from my favorite smoothie shop.

"Do you think Blake likes me?"

Just hearing his name enter into the conversation made me uncomfortable. I felt my back stiffen, and my eyes become wider then what they were before. I slowly put down my drink, considering the best possible way to answer the question. "I think you can do better." I finally decided.

"What? You don't even know him, he's super nice. And he's hot."

I rolled my eyes. I wanted to tell her how well I actually knew him—but those past events were embarrassing. I mean, how can you tell people that you used to get abused sexually, psychically, and mentally without them judging or pitying you?

"Well, I know guys like him. Trust me...you can do better."

She looked at me almost...angrily, so I tried a different approach. Flattery. That was Yasmines weak spot, every time.

"Yasmine." I covered her hand with mine. "You are beautiful. Don't...lower your standards for some guy who lives like two county's away. Besides don't you want a guy who you can...I don't know? Scratch and sniff? You can do so much better. Just...trust me on this, I don't like him."

"Seriously? Well that sucks, because I'm supposed to be going out with him tomorrow."

"What?!" I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Was he doing this to get back at me? Seeing my best friend? "Why didn't you tell me?"

She giggled, while running her fingers through her curly long hair and glancing around the food court. "Because, it's not that big a deal."

"Yasmine you can't go o—"

"Oh my goodness! Angel?!" A familiar voice called out to me.

"Candace?" I asked, as I watched her come to me happily, her high ponytail swaying from side to side and her eyes crinkling with her famous jaw dropping wide smile, that made the toughest of hearts at our school flutter.

She sauntered to us, as if on a catwalk, wearing the cutest light rinse ripped jeans that hugged her legs perfectly, they looked comfortable and cute at the same time. She also wore a fabulous burgundy, satin, sleeveless crop top—which I had just been eyeing at this boutique last week. She paired the look with black sandals and a black handbag with a few accessories to finish the look. I wondered how she always made herself look so effortlessly flawless, all the time.

Her cheekbones had a rosy tint, and her face held this fresh dewy glow, reminding me of when models got their faces retouched for magazine covers.

"Oh my gosh!" She cried, then opened her arms. I stood up from the table, and gave her a hug.

She even smelled good...like Chanel no 5 or something. This girl seriously needed to start giving me tips, because I was still struggling on where to get my nails done and how to put together cute outfits like hers.

It seemed like the hard feelings were gone, because her hug seemed very genuine. "It's so good to see you!" She continued.

"It's good to see you too." I replied, after letting go of her.