More like a Sister

Chapter Three

Jaxon’s POV

Since I’ve known Aurora, we’ve been enemies. She’s my sister’s best friend, but to me, she’s just someone I can mess with—annoy, tease, and push buttons. It's clear how our parents put the siblings’tag on us. Because we all grew up together and our parents were best friends.

When my mom told me Mrs. Smith relocated to the city with her daughter,—a long, nagging expectancy to see Aurora, to see how she’d grown into this… feminine version of herself. I laughed at the thought. I'm sure she would be no match with all the girls I've slept with.

Someway, somehow, I want to see how far she'd have become.

My friends and I had an outing later that night. I stayed home to rest especially before Cole would pick me up with his car.

The door bell rang severally. getting to the porch, There she was. The ugly “Aurora Smith” My “sexy self” played more than usual that day, and honestly? I had fun.

Jaxon’s Flashback

She was ten.

I was thirteen.

And for some stupid reason I never understood back then, Aurora had a tiny crush on me.

Back in those days, she followed me around like a little shadow—annoying, persistent, always smiling those gap-toothed smiles. I wasn’t used to attention, especially from girls. My brain wasn’t built to handle it yet. So every time she hovered, giggled, or tried to talk to me after class, I did what most dumb thirteen-year-old boys did: I pretended I didn’t notice.

Or worse—I pretended it irritated me.

Then came the school games.

She tripped.

Her skirt flew up.

And before my brain could catch up with my mouth, I shouted:

“Look! Aurora’s wearing cartoon panties!”

The whole class burst into laughter.

I laughed the loudest.

I thought she would laugh too. I thought it was harmless teasing. But the way she froze…

The way her face crumpled…

The way tears spilled down her cheeks…

Something inside me twisted in confusion.

I didn’t understand guilt yet.

So I laughed again—louder—hoping it would make the weird feeling in my chest disappear.

It didn’t.

That day put a crack between us—one she never let me forget. Every small interaction after that turned into an argument, a glare, a cold shoulder. I didn’t apologize. I didn’t know how. And by the time I realized she wasn't laughing with me, she had already changed—completely.

The humiliation stuck to her like a scar.

And to me like a stain.

---

Still in junior high, right after exams, our parents took us to the kids’ park.

I had finally found a group of friends who didn’t make me feel like a ghost. Kids who included me, kids I actually wanted to impress.

But of course… she was there.

Aurora.

The little storm in pigtails.

From the moment we stepped onto the swings, she decided to torment me with her presence. Every toy, every pebble, every stupid shiny trinket she found—she ran to me, grinning with her gap-toothed mouth, shoving things into my hands like offerings to a king.

To my friends, though?

It looked pathetic.

Like she was chasing me.

Like I was responsible for her.

I saw the looks on their faces—confusion, then amusement, then irritation.

The whispers started.

And the longer she kept coming back, the farther they drifted.

Until I found myself stranded in the middle of the sandbox, friendless, embarrassed, boiling with a thirteen-year-old’s version of rage.

My chest burned.

My hands shook.

And when she came running up again with another “look what I found!”—I snapped.

“STOP coming back!” I yelled, shoving her out of my way. “Your tooth is missing and your stupid toys are scaring my new friends away! Don’t come near me again, Aurora!”

She blinked.

One second—just one—her smile fell.

But then, unbelievably, she flashed me that same grin again, like she hadn’t heard a word.

That grin—the one with the missing tooth—mocked me.

I hated it.

I hated her for it.

That was the moment something ugly rooted itself inside me.

A quiet vow.

A childish resentment I didn’t know how to handle:

She would never embarrass me again.

Even now, thinking back, irritation curls in my chest like an old bruise pressed too hard.

Every memory of her feels like a grain of sand stuck under my eyelid—small but impossible to ignore.

---

My thoughts lingered to the present laying on the couch in my room.

Then there was the party Layla had mentioned. For some reason, I didn’t want Aurora there. Protective? Me? I scoffed at the thought. Something in me wanted her away. Was it because she was too fragile for a RPU party? Or because I didn’t want anyone annoying me that day like she always did when we were kids? Ew, protective. What the hell was wrong with me? I don't give a fuck what ever happens.

Maybe I thought she was too delicate for a RPU party.

Maybe I didn’t want anyone messing with her.

Or maybe I didn’t want her messing with me, irritating me like she always did, getting too close, too loud, too… Aurora.

I shook the thought off immediately.

Ew, protective. What the hell was wrong with me? I don’t give a damn what happens to her.

I threw my hands up, told my friends to postpone the party.

Gave them no reason.

Didn’t owe them one.

During recess in school, when I should have been sitting with my friends in our usual spot, I found myself making an excuse.

Walking to the cafeteria without knowing why.

Like something restless was tugging at me.

Something that sounded like her voice,

or her laugh,

or maybe her irritation.

Something I didn’t want to name.

“The cafeteria? You sure love this girly attention, bruh?,” Daniel asked, disgust in his voice. Others laughed, but I didn’t care.

“I just wanna see my sister, bet,” I replied.

Cole snorted. “Your sister schools here too?”

“Fuck off, dawg,” I snapped. “They ain’t some toy for y’all to play with!” My words hung heavy in the air, and suddenly everyone echoed in disbelief: “They?!” I rolled my eyes and stepped out, not wanting to argue further.

I smiled as I saw them together—Aurora and Layla—about to eat. Something twisted inside me. I wanted to be irritated by that ugly girl, but not in front of my friends. Somehow, it was fun. Yes, Aurora Smith was the ugly one here.

Still… I always looked forward to our banter. It filled some empty space that no other girl ever had.

Then Jefferey appeared at their table. My chest tightened in a way I couldn’t explain. He even saved his contact? Damn it. Today, I’d make sure Aurora knew he was mine to irritate. She succeeded in getting under my skin—now I had to retaliate.

I hopped on my bike and headed to my favorite spot in town. Amelia, someone I just call and play with—yes, she's obsessed with me—showed up. We ate ice cream, and she chatted about her holiday, but my attention drifted. My mind wandered back to Aurora.

“Amelia,” I cut her off, “I’m off to racing already. Let’s talk later.”

“But baby—” she began, whining.

I didn’t care. I had to clear something I didn't understand from my head. Why did they keep appearing?

The wind whipped against my face as I raced down the path on my bike, sharp and exhilarating, a thrill that made my eyes water and heart pound. Leaning low over the handlebars, I grinned, feeling the adrenaline surge through me. Each bump in the road made my chest leap.

“You’re so ugly when you smile, Aurora. And fuck you, Jefferey,” I muttered under my breath, laughing at myself.

Just then, Daniel and Cole caught up, yelling over the wind:

“Yo, Jaxon! Since when did you get here?!!”

“You’re not winning this time, I swear!”

Cole laughed breathlessly, wobbling on his bike. “Move hard! You ride like you’re scared of speed!”

We tore down the path, the wind lifting our shirts, screaming in exhilaration. Every turn, every surge, was a pure, wild, unrestrained joy. This wasn’t just racing—it was life, loud and addictive.

Eventually, we parted ways. I got home late, faced an earful from my parents, and lied about group work with my friends.

In the hallway, I overheard Layla’s laugh—addictive, bubbly, unforgettable. Only one person could make her laugh like that— Aurora. I tiptoed to her door, wanting to eavesdrop but quitted on it when I realized how petty it was. “I shouldn't care about ugly duckling Aurora” I thought. A lot of girls are dying to talk to me. It can't be the other way for me.

---

Aurora’s POV

The morning sunlight hit the quad, bouncing off freshly cut grass. The sound of footballs thumping against cleats echoed across campus. Today was my first chance to officially join the RPU female football team. I couldn’t afford another awkward moment—especially not if Jaxon was lurking around nearby.

Layla skipped ahead, waving at acquaintances. “Come on, slowpoke! You’re going to miss the best part of campus life!”

I adjusted my bag, stomach twisting. Every glance at the field reminded me of Jefferey, the all-star player with those emerald braces that refused to leave my mind.

Rounding the corner toward the sports building, I almost collided with Coach Ramirez, clipboard in hand, barking at a group of sweaty students.

“New recruit, huh?” he asked critically. “You sure you’re ready to handle RPU football?”

I squared my shoulders. “Absolutely. I’ve been playing for years.”

He smirked. “We’ll see.” He blew his whistle, calling everyone together.

The team huddled: seniors, eager freshmen, all sizing each other up.

“Wanna watch, or ready to join the girls? Let’s see what you got.”

I stepped onto the field determined—but a football whizzed past my shoulder, making me stumble to the ground.

Mia’s grin stretched across her face. “Consider that a warm-up.”

“What the heck, girl?!” I shouted. She just stared, hands on hips, smirking. Coach Ramirez intervened. “Come on, girls. Let’s not pick fights.”

We played for a few more minutes, ending the game with me scoring a goal and our team ahead.

Jefferey leaned casually against the goal post, tossing a football with effortless precision. When the game ended, he ran over to me.

“Hey princess, was the push hard?” he asked, smiling.

“No thanks,” I answered, brushing it off.

He nudged me. “Careful… she might see you as a challenge.”

“Don’t mind Mia. She’s the captain,” he added.

Rolling my eyes “I don’t need challenges, I need a team that lets me play without being… distracted.”

He raised a brow. “Maybe she wants to see how fit you are for the team.”

“It’s not her job, right? C’mon, that was unfair to me.”

“So… lunch to cool off?” he asked, hopeful.

Layla was already next to me, blushing on my behalf.

I felt heat rise. Could I say no? “Err… I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

Before we could continue, Mia called Jefferey to train with her, shooting me cold looks. I didn’t hold back either.

“Girl, are you good?” she nudged playfully. And continued,

I can't believe you scored a goal! It was crazy.

I sure told you I play really well. I smiled,feeling on top of the world.

Now heading to the changing room, ugly Jaxon shoved his face into my path.

“Ew! Jax, fuck off! I’ve had a bad day already!”

That infuriating smirk I knew too well spread across his face.

But deep down, a tiny voice whispered: he wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was the trouble he brought.