not edited. sorry. just got my laptop fixed and i have school work. trying to be as fast as possible. thank you for reading.

I've never been so impressed by myself in a long time. Clary laughed beside me quietly as I mentally strangled her. She was so unbelievable sometimes. Clearly, I'd be in some deep mud with my parents if I got cought climbing up the fire escape wearing makeup and the clothes I always seem to hide from my clueless mother.

"Clary, shut the fuck up!" I hissed at her in a whisper. The boys watched from across the street in the jeep, wide grins on their faces as they practically stared at the pink thong that was apparently showing.

"Your cute little thong is on full display," Clary laughed, throwing her head back like she has never seen me wear one. I hate these low-ride jeans. Never wearing them again.

I rolled my eyes as I climbed the latter. "You're welcome for the fucking show," I spat, hissing in whispers to make sure not to cause too much comotion. My mother would wake up to anything and literally everything. I prayed tonight wouldn't the the precise night I'd get caught for all my wrong doings.

Once I was inside the dark bedroom, I was surprised to see it the way I left it. The door was locked, and my books were thrown like usual across my desk and some clothes here and there on the floor. I heard Clary drive off with the guys as I shut the window.

I inhaled in relief.

+

I walked across the car park of the huge high school. Ever since last night my mother hasn't spoken a word to me. I should be paranoid, but I end up lying right through my teeth at her and she seems to believe me all the time before giving me a lecture to never do it again.

My eyes caught the grey Honda she drove, and I jogged in my painfully ugly flats. I wanted to cry and burn them off in our firepalce but she'd notice the ashes of the "well-spent" gift.

I opened the door and sat down. She was staring ahead at the street. I watched her carefully as she rose an eyebrow on her forehead and opened her mouth to speak. My mother was elegant. Eyebrows done perfectly, natural lip balm on her lips, and perfect eye-makeup. She didn't wear too much, just enough to look natural. She was a talent at making people look perfect.

Something I deeply hated.

"I tried speaking with you last night." She began. Her monotone tone with me made me cringe slightly. She knows something that is making her inner demon bang across the walls of her skin, begging to escape her. "But your door was locked."

"I --"

"Did I not tell you that," she breathed deeply, "You are not, absolutely never, are allowed to lock that door of your bedroom if I don't tell you so."

I wanted to scream at her to get a grip because I've had more sex than she has in her lifetime. That would make her disown me and I'd find myself living on the streets with rumors of my pregancy spreading like wildfire throughout the town.

"I do need my privacy," I replied back slowly, and that only made her eyes light up with anger.

She shook her head, slamming her hand down onto the wheel as we came to a red light. She turned to look at me, bright blue eyes that were a contrast to my chocolate brown ones stared into mine with fury. "Serenity, I don't care what you think you need. You are too young and naive to understand."

"Mom, you're overreacting. I got upset last night." I explained with a heavy sigh. She was getting angry while I tried to keep my hand down from slapping her across the face. Her talk made me look inferior to her command and I really disliked that.

Mother grabbed my hand and examined my nails that were a neon green from the party. "You are painting your beautiful finger nails with this sick color. You are wearing a bit of makeup after I specifically told you, you are too young for those things."

"There are fourteen year-olds wearing coloring books on their faces," I replied hastily.

"Don't back mouth me, Serenity Ryan Carter." She snapped before letting my hand go. I wiped it across my skirt with disgust, slowly trying to make it seem like I wasn't doing exactly what we all knew. "You are being irresponsible. You had no right to be upset last night, and ignore me, and lock your door."

Again, my face had a long, exhausted expression to it. "Mom," I groaned, but she talked before I could justify my actions.

"Don't let it happen again. I was your age, Serenity. I know your tricks."

I wanted to laugh because she doesn't know nearly the first thing about me. Parents always think they know their kid until they are forced to face the reality when all the truth comes out. I know eventually one day I will get caught, but I'm making sure that doesn't happen any time soon.

"When we get home I want that hideous nail polish off of you, and I want you to go do your homework and study." She explained my schedule. I woke up in the morning dreading my school schedule only to be greeted by another one mentally arranged by my mother.

"It's Friday," I whined.

"No whining. It's not lady-like," she said. Nothing is fucking lady-like, I mentally spat at her. "I don't care if it's Friday. There's no such thing as too much studying."

We got home to be greeted by Willie, whom my mother picked up with all smiles and a kind-hearted laugh. Willie snuggled into her chest. I imagined my father was at the restaurant, and my mother was going to join him in a couple of minutes. I was going to babysit Willie today.

This couldn't get any better. My night began with dreadful cries of stubborness from Willie when he refused to get into the tub. I ended up with a white t-shirt soaked with water and soap, my b*obs on reserve in my red bra.

I rolled my eyes. "Willie, you're such an irritating child."

He stared at me with his big, blue eyes. A small smile formed on his little, pink lips. "I don't wanna leave the tub."

"Eight minutes ago you were fighting and screaming to stay out of it!" I groaned at him, already reaching to grab him from the tub but he splashed around in his own filth water and moved to the far end of the tub.

"No!"

"Willie!" I warned, walking to the other end. He laughed loudly, squealing and moving away from my reach until I was left breathless and wet. The doorbell rang downstairs as I irritatingly moved a stray piece of my hair away from my face. "Drown then."

Willie seemed unfazed, and began to make "room room" noise as he played with cars in the water. Bubbles adorned his dark hair on his head while I walked out, hoping he didn't take my advice seriously. I knew he was a troublemaker and would do anything to get me into trouble.

I sighed deeply as I reached for the doorknob. When I opened the door, I was glad to see Elliot Burner. The gay guy I was forced to date, but we never really did.

"Your mom called and asked me to come over," he said, shrugging and letting himself in. He was one of my closet friends. I saw he was wearing a casual t-shirt and skinny jeans -- so I knew his parents were out, too. His blond hair was pushed back messily and his hazel eyes locked on my wet shirt.

I stared at him, shutting the front door with my back. "If you weren't gay, you'd have a mouthful of my fist right now."

"Please," he rolled his eyes, "I may be gay but even I'm attracted to your tatas."

I giggled, throwing my arms around his neck and embracing him tightly as he groaned. "You are soaked. Let me go, you demon."

"I'm glad you're here. I'm stuck babysitting Willie, and he refuses to get out of the tub."

Elliot hummed, crossing his skinny arms over his chest. "That's because he hates you."

"Don't test my will, Elliot," I muttered at him, narrowing my eyes playfully. He walked up the stairs, within seconds returning with a cuddly Willie wrapped in a warm towel that was too long for him.

He smirked at me. "Willie jumped right out."

"Screw you," I punched his arm. "Now you have to go dress him yourself while I change my shirt." I smiled at him sweetly, loving the groan that left his throat as he followed me up the stares. He took the detour to Willie's bedroom and I took the way to my bedroom further down the hall.

I quickly exchanged the wet shirt for a black tank top. I carelessly made my way back down the stairs to get something to eat because I'm sure Elliot is starving just as bad as I am. And Willie is heading to bed soon anyway.

I grabbed leftover lasagna from two nights ago and heated it up in the microwave when Elliot returned without Willie, probably already got him to sleep.

"Willie sleeping?" I asked him as we both took seats at the kitchen table, cutting pieces of the lasagna off messily like we didn't have any manners. Times like these when our parents weren't around to correct us were the absolute best.

Elliot hummed, nodding his head. "He's reading on his Nook thingy. He looked pretty tired, I'm sure he'll knock out in a few."

"Thanks. He would be eating my stash of candy from my room and jumping around until my mother got home if it weren't for you," I laughed.

We both dug our forks into the food on our plates, eating in silence before the doorbell rang again. I rolled my eyes, scanning the clock that read 8:40pm. Who would seriously come and visit me at this time at night, knowing my parents?

"You had plans, darling?" Elliot gasped in amusement as I walked out of the kitchen and towards the foyer where I could see slight shadows of people standing outside my door. Great...they were more.

By the second I turned the doorknob and opened the door, I already guessed it was Clary and Emily, along with the delightful presence of Harry and Zayn. No Wayne in sight.

I rolled my eyes, regretful I decided to open the door even though I was pretty sure it was them. "You could've gotten me in trouble, Clary."

She smiled, pushing by me and letting the others tag along, bored and obviously wanting a kick out of seeing me give them a show of my thong again.

"But I didn't. And you're all alone tonight."

"How do you know that?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow. She had her unusual ways of knowing things, and this one I just had to ask.

Harry butted in with his deep voice, staring at me with his narrowed, beautiful green eyes. "We saw them at a restaruant."

"Please tell me you did not harass my parents." I scanned them over.

Clary scoffed. "You think so horribly of us."

"Because you are." I remarked, causing them to chuckle and walk into my kitchen with me right behind. Elliot surely wasn't expecting them when he turned around. His face went brighter with amsuement, knowing this was one of my ultimate tricky, troublesome friends I tell him about.

Just by Zayn's tattoos and their dark clothing, Elliot could recall my descriptions.

"Who's this?" Harry pointed bluntly.

I looked back and forth between Elliot and the group of people who now scattered around my kitchen. I grinned a little, knowing I should play this card on him to see his reaction.

"My boyfriend. Elliot." I replied sweetly, placing myself on Elliot's lap, knowing I was probably crushing him since he was skinnier than me, even. That's how thin the poor boy was.

Harry scoffed, and Clary eyed me with a natural glint of amusement in her eyes. "Your boyfriend?" Harry ran a hand through his locks, and Elliot only sat there in silence like he was ready to be intimidated by Harry and all his dark clothing.

"Yeah. Got a problem?" I wanted to laugh, so I cheered mentally as he clenched his jaw, scoffing and rolling his eyes. If I wasn't really doubtful on my observations, I'd think Harry was a little jealous someone else was tapping this ass.

Elliot only rolled his eyes to himself, muttering beneath his breath, which I totally ignored. Clary sat herself, humming knowing exactly what I was up to. "So...Elliot...since when did you start getting with my best friend?"

"Clary," I warned, but she brought her hand up in defense.

"Two weeks ago." Elliot replied smoothly, but I knew he was trying to keep his own amusement suppressed inside of him.

Clary hummed, wrapping her arms around Zayn's neck, who leaned back in his chair, watching us. "Play any sports?"

"I don't do sports."

Harry scoffed, muttering, "No wonder you're skinnier than --"

"Okay," I began enthusiastically, trying to keep Harry from spilling his thoughts out loud about Elliot's appearance. I'd wish he turned off for an hour or forever. "What's everyone up to?"

Clary rolled her eyes. "We're here...at your house, with you." She spoke like I was a dumb ass.

"I imagine you'd show her some moves in bed, right?" Zayn winked in Elliot's direction, which only made him laugh pretty hard. The thought of me and Elliot sleeping together is atrocious in my point of view, and apparently it was to Harry as well because he scrunched up his nose and glared some more at the back of Elliot's head.

I cringed to myself. "We actually haven't, Zayn. Thanks," I sarcastically spat at him, making sure I got my point across for him to stop being such a perverted animal. He obviously wasn't going to listen.

Zayn leaned his head back into Clary's shoulder, chuckling softly at my reaction. I've realized all he wanted was my impulse to everything he says or does.

"He's sure a catch," Clary smiled, eyes glancing over at a quiet Harry. He seemed to watch me carefully, looking more relaxed than before. Something about the way he was looking at me, he sort of caught on.

I smiled, pinching Elliot's cheek which he was about to move away from, but allowed it knowing we were playing along.

Zayn smirked wider, Emily just sitting there enjoying our banter. "So tell me Elliot, do you like Serenity's pu-"

"OOPS!" Harry exclaimed with mischeif bright in his eyes. The plate of lasagna that was mine minutes ago was now crashed onto the floor. A mess of glass and greasy, hot lasagna made my stomach turn with anger and annoyance.

I glared up at him, immediately catching sight of the tiny smirk that curved itself on his lips for a mere second. "You fucker," I hissed, getting off Elliot's lap and storming off towards Harry.

He held his hands up in defense as I finally gave him the attention he so awfully wanted. "I'm sorry, babe. I'll clean it."

"You and I both know you fucking won't," I spat, rolling my eyes and leaving the others behind in the kitchen. I heard his footsteps echoing mine, a soft chuckle leaving his lips every other second. "You think you're so funny, Harry."

"Just your face. I love how you react to everything." He brought his hand down to the doorknob of the closet I was going to open, hoping to find cleaning utensils before the mess left a stain on the tiled floors.

I sighed deeply, reminding myself that murder is a serious crime. "I am seconds away from comitting murder."

"I'm sorry, baby. But that idiot is chewing more than he can swallow...literally," he glanced down lower on my body, and I wanted to puke all over his tall, muscular body. "You're too hot for him."

I ignored the little compliment there, knowing if I gave it to him he'll get cockier. "Why do you insist on annoying me?" Our eyes locked, staring at each other with nothing but amusement and hate. Which came from which was pretty obvious.

"I like seeing you angry." He shrugged.

I laughed bitterly, narrowing my eyes at him. "Well...it's working. Now let go of the doorknob so I can clean up the mess you made."

"Don't think that's how it works, baby." He pressed on.

"I have a boyfriend. I am not your baby." I remarked quickly, raising an eyebrow at him.

Harry shamelessly moved his body forward to mine, pressing our hips together and biting his lip gently. It was probably the hottest thing I've seen but I won't admit that even if I was being burned alive. Our crotches lined up and I was taken aback on how warm his hands were when he placed them on my hip.

Our faces were inches away from each other, my urge to knee him straight in the balls growing.

"You don't give up, don't you?" I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest.

He smiled. "Don't think you're anything special. I'm this close to you because right now I'm having a perfect view of your t*ts."

I scoffed. "T*ts you won't be seeing any time soon."

"I doub that, baby." He laughed, a dimple popping into his left cheek. He was really handsome, and surely he was quite the sense of humor. Harry's got tattoos and wears dark clothing. Curses and has more s*x than the fingers on my hands in a month. He's the type of guy my parents would truly hate.

"Don't." I fired back.

Harry brought his hands abruptly to my chest, fighting beneath my arms and grasping the modesty of my chest right in the palms of his hands. I gasped, eyes widening with irritation as he touched me, grinning. "You're not even pushing me away. So how are you going to tell me I won't be seeing these," he squeezed,"any time soon?"

I worked the courage off to shake away the burning sensation at the pit of my stomach, pushing away his idiotic self from me and my "tatas".

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as I turned over and opened the closet door. "Elliot's not your type. What kind of guy dates someone as hot as you and doesn't already go for the gold?"

"And you're my type?" I looked through things and shelves, annoyed with him.

"I'm the type to piss off your parents and make you scream louder in bed than anyone you've had before." He spoke like he was totally proud of himself.

I laughed, genuinely. "You're so stupid." I turned back, closing the door with a few cleaning utensils in my hands.

"I'm a lot of things. But to answer your question, I'm your type."