My Hot Step Brother Wants Me

Tatiana

The aggressive sound coming from my alarm had me grumbling loudly, kicking the heavy duvet off my body, and cursing at the universe for forcing me to wake up at such an hour. I pick up my phone, staring at the message from Emily gushing about the first day of school and the game later today.

I drag my body into the bathroom, and even after a hot shower, I still look like a newly transformed zombie. D*mn it! Why did summer break have to be over so soon? In hindsight, it was my last year of high school. Nine more months and I would be out of here and in my dream college.

I hate everything about high school. One would think that despite having everything — I was on the cheerleading team, I had straight As, a bright future at Yale, and of course, a rich mother —my life should be perfect.

It was everything but perfect.

I walk into my closet and rummage through the endless rows of clothes, searching for something worthy of my first day back in school as a senior. I settle for a baby pink crop top and jeans. I pick up a blazer for later in case it gets chilly. After a last look in the mirror, adjusting my perfectly styled hair, I dashed for the stairs.

“You look pretty.” My mother says as soon as I walk into the dining room. She’s busy on the kitchen counter and barely throws a glance my way. I give her a faint smile when she meets my gaze.

“Meh, you look like a dull stuff with cotton. I mean, look at your cheeks.”

Ah, there it is. One of the imperfections in my life. My stepbrother, Hasan.

“And you look like you snuck into Earth.” I clapped back, pulling out the chair furthest from him. Rather than taking offense to my insult, Hasan laughs. I mean, really laugh. The melodious sound of his laughter does something to my thighs that infuriates me.

“Settle down, kids.” Mom places the last dish on the table.

“I didn’t do anything, Mom.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hasan mocks, making a silly face at me that makes me want to throw a loaf of bread his way.

Hasan is my stepbrother. A thorn in my side that is impossible to get rid of. My mom adopted him when I was in fifth grade. I had come home that day from school to find the f*ck*r lying on my bed. No one lays on my bed, not even my mom. He casually introduced himself as my brother, as if it was totally normal.

And I have been stuck with him since then.

Hasan is irritating and frustrating and urgh! He makes me want to poke him in the eye with a burning stick. I swear I couldn’t stand him. I hated him more than I hated everyone else. But something happened in the summer I was away with my friends.

In my eyes, Hasan had the obscenest glow-up known to mankind. Of course, having Arabic genes helped. Deep eyes, high cheekbones that most women pay to have, long lashes, thick jet-black hair, a subtle beard, and teeth so f*ck*ng white they blind you. He had gone from geeky and annoying to cover magazine-worthy hot. Suddenly, I stopped seeing him as my annoying stepbrother. He became so f*ck*ng hot that most nights, I had to touch myself while thinking of him doing nasty, dirty things.

“Jesus, Tatiana! Are you even listening?” My mom snaps her fingers in my face. I blink, slowly coming back to. My gaze first lands on Hasan, who gives me a knowing look, his plump lips expanding into a teasing smile. God, he is so f*ck*ng annoying.

“Yes, Mom.”

“I will be out of town for the next days. You are in charge; watch over your brother and report back to me if he does anything foolish.” Mom says calmly, digging into her bacon.

“I am not his babysitter.” I state. Hasan makes a silly face. I grab the loaf of bread on my plate, ready to use it as a weapon when my mother spoke up.

“No. but you are more responsible than he is. You are in charge, and that is final.” My mom says in a stern tone, one that leaves no room for debate.

Knowing I will be in charge of Hasan makes me unable to stomach anything. I know he would go out of his way to make my life the next days a f*ck*ng nightmare. I shift back my chair, grab my backpack, and storm out of the house.

Outside, the sun is already overhead in the sky, and it's blazing hot, which is weird for the current weather in New Hampshire. I get into my car and put on my seatbelt. After making sure the gear is in neutral, I press the push start button. The silent hum that always comes on after I do this doesn’t come on. Something is wrong. I try again. Same outcome.

F*ck.

I step out of my car and open the bonnet hood. I realize how stupid I look because I didn’t know sh*t about cars. What exactly was I supposed to be looking at? I sigh heavily in disappointment. As cheerleading captain, I am expected to be in school earlier than everyone else, but my bloody car won’t start, and I am stuck.

“Need a ride, sis?” Hasan’s irritating voice resonates behind me. He wears his signature smug smile as he throws his backpack over his shoulders, tucks his hand in his jeans, and comes to a halt behind me. He is close. Too close. I feel his breath against my neck. I quickly pull away from him.

“You don’t have to stand that close to me.” I try to move away from Hasan, but he grabs me before I can. He slams my back against my car and brings his body dangerously close to mine. My heart pounds in my chest loudly; it supersedes the sound of my heartbeat. I duck my head backward to avoid Hasan’s face drawing close to mine.

“Hasan. What are you doing, Hasan?” I look around nervously, scared that someone might see us in this position. Hell, even Mother was still inside and she could walk out any minute. But Hasan didn’t care.

He doesn’t reply. He smiles, takes his hand out of his pocket, and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Then, as slowly as possible, he leans in, his breath fanning against my neck. “I know what you do every night before bed.”

Before Hasan’s words could settle in my subconscious, he disappears into his car. Not only leaving me stranded without a ride to school, but also wondering if he was awake when I snuck into his room and masturbated on his work table.

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