Faking It With My stepbrother

Lila’s POV

“What the fuck?” I had never seen a house this big before. 

“Language, Lila.” My mom corrected me.

This wasn't just a house. It looked like one of those shows where rich people argue quietly over wine.

The Vale mansion was so tall, that it felt like my whole life had been a lie. My whole life had fit into a two-bedroom apartment in downtown Manhattan, and now I was standing in front of a place that had actual fountains.

“Welcome home!” Daniel Vale announced as he kissed my mom. 

Mom was glowing beside me, holding Daniel Vale’s arm like she’d been waiting her whole life to belong somewhere like this.

I dragged my old suitcase along and it made a scraping sound that was too loud. Mom turned to me, beaming. “Isn’t it beautiful, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “It’s… huge.” She didn’t notice the pause. She was so happy.

Daniel’s phone buzzed, and he walked away without another word. A maid appeared out of nowhere and offered to take my bag. I told her I could handle it, but she took it anyway.

That's when I heard a deep rumble of a motorbike outside. Daniel hissed and then frowned. “He’s home.”

Mom smiled politely. “Your son?”

“Yes, my disappointment.” He said it so calmly that it took me a second to realize how cruel it was. 

When he didn't come in through the front door, Daniel sighed and said to me. “He's in the garage in case you want to meet him.” Then he turned to my mom. “Darling, there's something I have to show you upstairs.” He winked at my mom who giggled.

I made a face, it was neausating, especially because my mom was not the giggling type. I followed the sound through a side door until I found the garage.

Bent over a black motorcycle with grease on his hands, his sleeves rolled up, and his jet black hair messy like he didn’t care who saw him, was my new stepbrother.

For a moment I stood there and stared. He didn't look like anyone I'd ever met before, and that's saying alot since I grew up around subway noise.

He looked like the kind of trouble you crossed the street to avoid, but kept looking back at anyway.

“Hey,” I said finally, clearing my throat.

He didn’t even look up. “I don’t remember ordering company.”

“I’m Lila,” I said, shifting from one foot to the other. “Your…uh…stepsister.”

He straightened, wiped his hands on a rag, and finally looked at me. His eyes were a deep shade of blue and he looked nothing like his father. The term beautiful, was the right word to describe him.

“Welcome to hell, princess.” he said, still frowning at me.

“Wow,” I said. “That’s… friendly.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t say I was friendly.” Then he turned back to his bike like I wasn’t even there.

I stood there awkwardly for another second, before walking off, and then i realised that I didn't even know his name.

Dinner was worse.

The table was so huge it could fit a small army. Daniel sat at the head of the table with my mom beside him, smiling like I'd never seen her smile before.

Her hair was up in a bun, and I noticed she was wearing a diamond earring. I sat across from an empty chair that stayed empty until halfway through the meal.

Then he showed up. My stepbrother walked in shirtless and smelling faintly of smoke and gasoline. He sat down on his seat, ignoring the angry stare his father gave him.

“You’re late,” Daniel said. “Where have you been? You didn't even say hi to your mom and new sister.”

“Correction Dad. Your wife and her daughter.” he shot back.

Mom coughed lightly, trying to break whatever this was. “So, Asher,” she said sweetly, “you and Lila will be at the same school. Isn’t that nice?”

So his name is Asher… I wondered, stuffing a forkful of chicken in my mouth.

He looked at me, finally. “Sure, if you like private prisons.”

I swallowed the chicken, trying not to laugh and choke at the same time. “Guess I’ll fit right in then.”

He raised an eyebrow like he couldn't believe I'd say that. Daniel slammed his fork down. “Enough. I won’t have sarcasm at this table.”

I looked back at my plate, and I didn't eat much after that. When I looked up once more, Asher’s eyes were on me, like he was trying to figure out what kind of girl I was. I dropped my eyes back to my plate.

****

It was one am and I was finding it hard to sleep. Back in our old apartment there had always been noise. If it wasn't neighbors arguing, then sirens or a TV running somewhere.

But it was so quiet here.

So I grabbed my sketchbook and stepped outside. The garden was huge and full of perfect flowers and trimmed hedges that didn’t look real. I sat on a stone bench and started drawing the fountain. Drawing never fails to help calm my thoughts.

Then I smelled cigarette smoke. Unsurprisingly Asher was sitting on the edge of a stone wall not far away, smoking a cigarette.

“Do you always roam around other people's houses at night?” He asked, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown.

“I couldn't sleep.” I replied, choosing to ignore his biting words.

 Crickets chirped somewhere far away as I tried to focus on my sketch, but I could feel him watching me.

“Why aren't you scared of me?” He asked suddenly.

“Should I be?” I asked, batting my lashes at him.

He threw his cigarette and walked over. “Most people are.”

“Well, I’m not most people.”

He tilted his head like he was studying me. “No, you’re not.”

 I looked away and pretended to check my sketchbook. Then he snatched it out of my hand and ripped two pages out then he tore them to pieces in front of me.

“What is wrong with you?!” I half yelled, dragging it away from his hands. He'd ripped out my best work yet. My eyes stung with tears, I'd worked so hard on those sketches of bumblebee and Tinkerbell.

“Next time you sneak out at midnight,” he said quietly, voice brushing my ear, while I shook from surprised , “don’t wear thin clothes, I can see your hard nipples.” Then the idiot turned away, heading to the house. 

I swear, I was going to kill him.