Lifting the duvet off of me, lazily I took it upon myself to slowly roll onto my side. What I wasn't anticipating was that I rolled too close to the edge which ultimately resulted in me landing on the floor with a loud crushing thud. The pain I usually felt every time I fell off the bed didn't hurt anymore because today I was numb as shit.

I rolled onto my stomach effortlessly then propped myself up on my hands and lazily dragged my numb body towards the bathroom, being momentarily mortified by my zombified reflection in the mirror.

Well aren't you a piece of work Michelle.

I ran my hands through my sticky matted hair and let my soggy tongue stick out of my mouth, just taking in the absolute horror before me. "I look like a mess." I grumbled groggily to myself.

Ten more minutes of me wallowing in my own despair, I finally took the time to slip out of my nightgown, disposing of it into the hamper and slipping into the shower.

As the cold water rolled down my body, my mind stumbled into thoughts that plagued me last night, preventing me from sleeping and depriving me of my good nights rest. Thoughts imprisoned my mind such as; did this juvenile delinquent kill someone? Did he commit a felony or something? Why is he being sent here, of all places?!

I don't know how to feel about him being in this house, in the room right down the hall opposite mine. The thought makes my skin crawl but there's only one way to find out.

I hopped out of the shower and took my time brushing my teeth until it was squeaking against my fingertips. We're supposed to go pick him up with the rest of the students who have assigned delinquents, it sounds so wrong saving it like this but in reality this is what they are. . .delinquents.

I slipped on a black pair of jeans and a red polo t shirt with a pair of black vans. Today I put less effort in my looks since I have no one to impress and most definitely not a delinquent. If anything I should be wearing a hazmat suit.

I stumbled down the stairs, navigating my way towards the kitchen where dad sat on a white stool drinking a cup of hot coffee whiles my mother prepared breakfast. "Morning," I greeted softly as I snuggled into my mother's warm body.

"Morning, sweetheart." Taking her eyes off the pancakes, she turned towards me, smiling widely before averting eye contact and attending to the pancakes before it burnt. "I'm upset with you," I grumbled as I unwrapped my hands from her waist and propped myself up onto the stool beside my father.

"Why?" She asked distractingly, still flipping the pancake in the pan.

"Because we didn't tell her we were making Mason come here today." My father mumbled gruffly as he sipped his coffee dramatically, warily staring at me before averting his attention towards his newspaper and flipping onto a next page.

Mason?

So that's the criminals name, it even sounds like a criminals name or am I just being way too dramatic.

No most definitely sounds like one.

"Oh sweetheart we're just trying to help the kid out. And his parents are my past associates so I felt guilty after I heard what happened to them. So I contacted government and offered to have him stay here after I found out he was being transferred through the program. So be nice to him." My father explained and I sneered.

"So he's a family friend?" I asked confusedly, trying to process everything I just heard. "Yeah, something like that." My mother nodded as she placed a hot steaming pancake onto the plate before me.

"I knew you guys weren't crazy enough to bring a criminal you didn't know in this house." I chuckled underneath my breath, not attempting to make them hear me but obviously I was loud enough because my father cleared his throat warningly.

"Okay first off he's not a criminal and stop saying that, I don't want you to have any slip ups and end up calling him a criminal in front his face." She said as she pointed a wary finger at me.

Whatever she says I guess. "What time are we going to pick Mason up?" I mumbled dryly as I picked around at the pancake on my plate. Not really having an appetite anymore.

"In a while actually, his flight will be landing in the next thirty minutes so we better get going." My father piped in, hopping off the stool and placing his mug in the sink as he folded his newspaper.

I hopped off the stool soon after, grabbing my plate of uneaten pancakes and storing it into the microwave. Just the thought of some guy I don't know coming to stay here for a year put me on edge and gave me slight anxiety. I cannot eat at the moment.

"What's wrong?" I rolled my eyes, feeling both my parents eyes burning into my back. I spun around my heels, staring at them quizzically and I leaned against the counter, gripping it tightly beneath my fingertips.

"Are you okay with Mason coming to live here?" My mother asked and I shrugged nonchalantly although I was slowly burning to a crisp on the inside.

No mom I'm definitely not comfortable for a 'troubled' teen to be living with me. Far less going to the same damn school as me to make matters even worse than it initially was. I'm just ecstatic.

"Mom it's okay, he's not going to be that bad. . . aye." I winked, trying my best to lighten the mood when all I felt like doing was possibly ripping off every follicle of hair off my head.

"For the love of god you're not Canadian!" She huffed out exasperatedly, spinning on her heels as she shook her head vigorously.

"For the love of god stop crushing my dreams." I exclaimed, spinning on my heels and striding out .

Today some real shit is gonna go down.

~~~

"Can you be patient, you're just like your goddamn mother." My father huffed out exasperatedly as he peeped over my shoulders to supposedly look for Mason.

"Dad I had plans for today, I was simply supposed to go shopping with Sasha and Kayla but Mason– the criminal–spoiled it!"

I probably shouldn't have said that at the moment I did because the gruff voice that spoke up from behind me agreed to disagree with my provocative statement.

I know that the colour from my face had drained out and I most likely looked like a ghost on crack because when I pivoted on my heels I was most definitely not emotionally, psychically or mentally prepared for the Greek god who stood before me.

At first you'd think a girl would check out a handsome guy's face but the first thing that caught my eyes were the tattoos which ran down the sleeve of his arm. His black T–shirt clung onto his rock hard body like a second skin and his washed out jeans clung lowly onto his visible v–shaped torso.

I trailed my eyes up and down his body absentmindedly like a cop sniffing out a suspect. My eyes wandered from his waist to his chest then his arms and finally his face. And oh my lord was I hit was a slap across my face because he had the face of an angel.

His black shaggy hair toppled onto his face like waves, hooding his drooping eyes, his jawline was as sharp as the tip of my acrylic nails, his nose, broad and alert, stubble decorated the edges of his chin and down his neck and over his pink lips. His lips, the way he stuck his tongue out of his mouth and ran them over his lips sent my mind into overdrive and I snapped my eyes away from him when he spoke.

"I just got here and I'm already being judged by a brat?" The foreign voice spat humourlessly and I was momentarily taken a back but what did I expect from a guy who's supposedly a juvenile delinquent. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, scoffing as I folded my arms before me.

He scoffed in return, mocking me and then turned his attention to my father as if I didn't even exist. "Mr White, how are you?" He suddenly beamed, any trace of annoyance long gone from his foreign voice as he shook my father's hand.

Well I certainly did not get the welcome I was hoping for.

"Hello Mason, good to see you in shape once again son, we're glad to have you here, especially my daughter Michelle." He said through gritted teeth as he nudged me in the arm, indicating that I be nice to the guest.

"Apologize." He confirmed my suspicions and I groaned inwardly.

I rolled my eyes for maybe the millionth time today, there is no way in hell I'm making this criminal feel welcomed. "I am not apologizing to a delinquent." I spat as venomously as I could, but I received a different response than I was expecting. He suddenly smirked and rolled his eyes.

"Michelle! Apologize." My father bellowed out angrily as his eyes thinned into slits. I was the least intimidated so instead I shrugged and mumbled a no.

"It's okay." Mason exclaimed as his eyes narrowed in my direction. His former welcoming gaze now gone and had taken the shape of a cold and harsh guy. Yep there he is!

"I don't entertain bitches."

I was not expecting that, not mentally nor emotionally. I gasped in shock, watching as he winked at me then maneuvered his way through the crowd, disappearing a second later. I swivelled my gaze towards my father who was stifling in a laugh and I frowned deeply. "Dad did you hear that!?"

"You called him a criminal." He shrugged nonchalantly, basically telling me let bygones be bygones. I huffed out in annoyance then quickly made my way through the crowd as well. Towing behind my father and Mason.

When I arrived outside the airport the cold air took no chances on me and immediately slapped me across my face like a bucket of ice cold water, but then it was gone just like that and I was suddenly enveloped in warmth in that same second. "Listen you prestige girl who thinks she can pick on anyone at the bottom of her rich classy ass." Mason's cheerful voice filled my ears angrily.

My eyes widened in astonishment as I watched perplexed as he clenched and unclenched his fist angrily. "I didn't come here to start trouble, I came for a fresh start so if you wanna be a bitch to me then have it your way but I ain't looking for trouble with you so don't get in my way or I'll make you regret it." He spat.

Before I could muster up the courage to speak, my father rounded the corner just in time to interrupt our little show down.

"Ah! kids lets go, mom is waiting home. She's so excited to finally meet Mason!" He squealed childishly. I nodded in response, gulping down the spit in my throat as I let my gaze linger on Mason's angry yet passive face.

He swept his eyes over my face and then my body before scoffing. "Such a shame that a pretty girl like you has a nasty attitude like that. . .quite frankly sweetheart, it's disgusting." He shook his head like the situation was unbelievable then maneuvered past my body and slipped into the car.

I finally let out the daunting breath that I was holding and stared at my father perplexed, he arched his brows confusedly and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Are you Okay?" He asked as his hands flew up to my forehead to check for a fever.

I brushed his hands away annoyingly and nodded my head with a small–I hope it's a convincing–smile. "I'm okay dad," for now.

I slowly walked towards the car and slipped into the passenger seat. My father soon entered right after me, slipping into his place with that cheerful smile on his face. He rarely smiled but here he is acting like Mason was some kind of celebrity.

I think the euphoria is getting to his head.

"Mason are you ready to see your new home?"

"I guess, is it a huge house?" He asked and my father let out a booming laugh, it really wasn't even that hilarious. "Of course son, we're the Whites, we're basically celebrities in this crappy town."

Mason let out a throaty chuckle that I couldn't deny sounded like music to my ears. It kind of made me swoon but as quickly as the thoughts came into my head I blocked them out. Nope not today Michelle, he basically called you disgusting minutes ago.

His hands suddenly grazed my shoulders as he adjusted himself in the back seat. His touch left a suddenly burning trail on my arm which was definitely not a foreign feeling to me and I didn't like it. But I could stop him from trailing his hand on my shoulder once again and I frowned, I think this idiot was doing this on purpose.

"Must be nice living in a huge house with all that money." He suddenly exclaimed with a hint of venom and taunt behind his voice.

I knew his statement was directed to me seeing as he referred to me as some prestige rich girl who thinks she's higher in the foods chain than most lower class people.

"You are gonna love our home Mason." My father exclaimed through the thick tension. I turned around to glare at him, trying to defuse the rage building up inside me as he smirked.

He's gonna love our home. I assure you that.

Mason Hunter my friends🔝