Girlfriend

Derek's point of view:

I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, feeling as if I had been hit by a truck. 

I groaned and rubbed my temples, trying to remember what happened last night. 

I had a hazy memory of drinking and partying, but the details were blurry.

I opened my eyes to find my stepsister, Ronnie, standing over me with an expression of disgust. 

"What happened?" I asked groggily, wondering why she was in my room.

"You don't remember?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "You threw a party last night, Derek. You left a mess everywhere, and I had to clean it up."

I sat up, rubbing my face. "I did?"

"Yes, you did," she said, crossing her arms over her big breasts. "I hate it when you throw parties. It gets on my nerves. I had to send everyone home."

My eyes instantly cleared. "The hell did you do that for? Why did you ruin my fun? No one does that to me!"

"I don't care. We live together, and you need to respect me."

I scoffed. "Respect you? This is my house too, and I can do whatever I want."

"This may be your house, but I live here too," she retorted. "You can't just do whatever you want without thinking of the consequences."

We argued back and forth, each trying to make our point. 

Eventually, we settled on a compromise. 

I agreed to limit the number of parties I threw and to only throw them whenever she's not home. 

In exchange, Ronnie agreed to be more understanding and not to complain so much.

"One more thing," She stood over me, pointing at the mess around me, her eyes filled with disgust. "Your room is a big mess. Don't you ever clean up?"

My room was a reflection of my lifestyle, richly furnished with all the latest gadgets and amenities. 

But, at the same time, it was a mess. Clothes, papers, and empty food containers were scattered everywhere, making it look like a garbage dump. 

"Nah, I don't really care about the mess," I said, stretching myself under the duvet. "We've got caretakers to clean up after us. It's their job, after all."

But Ronnie wasn't having it. 

She expressed her disgust at the state of my room and how unkept it was. 

"We can't let the caretakers do everything for us. We're not kids. Look at these awful mess. Typical boys room. How basic."

"Are you always this intrusive?" I asked, smirking. "It seems you love poking your nose where it isn't needed. 

"Are you always this dirty?" She retorted. "Cause I'd rather poke my nose in a toilet than your life." 

I rolled my eyes and told her not to worry, that the caretakers would clean it up for me. 

But she wasn't taking my words for an answer. She insisted that I clean up after myself, that I take responsibility for my own mess.

I tried to explain to her that I didn't know how to clean up and that I didn't want to do it either. 

I was used to having people do everything for me, and the thought of cleaning up my own mess was just too much for me. 

But Ronnie wouldn't budge.

As she continued to nag me, I stood up from my bed, taking off my shirt. 

"Forget it, you make me tired. Arguing with you makes me sweaty. Just look at how hot it is in here. Why isn't the AC working?"

But when I exposed my chest, Ronnie's expression changed. 

She looked embarrassed and couldn't bring herself to look at me. 

Huh? What's with her? 

Gradually, my memory started coming back to me. Yesterday was my first day in campus. 

I'd made tons of new friends, got myself a hot girlfriend and invited them over to my house and threw a wild party. 

I've got a knack for making friends. The moment I step into an unknown environment, I gain instant attention. 

The trouble with the Diamond family is that we don't hold our liquor well. 

I guess I inherited that trait from my Pa. It runs in the family I guess. Whenever we hit the bottle, we're a different person. 

Now that I think of it, I wonder if in my drunken state, I'd done something crazy. 

"Did I do anything stupid last night?" I asked, staring thoughtfully at Ronnie. "I didn't remember much after getting drunk."

Ronnie flushed and looked away. "N-Nothing," she said, before quickly turning to leave my room.

She quickly told me to clean up and left the room, leaving me standing there, confused and bewildered.

I planted my hands on my hips, staring at the door, feeling a way. 

What's her deal anyways?

                            * * * * 

Ronnie's point of view:

As I leaned against Derek's door, my heart was pounding in my chest. 

I couldn't believe that I had returned back to his room earlier this morning to check up on him before he woke up. 

I remembered dragging his drunken half-sleeping body up to his room, and the guilt that I felt for slapping him in the face.

But then, as I thought about the moment he had licked my ear in the living room infront of everyone, my heart raced with excitement. 

I couldn't deny the electric chemistry that was between us, even though I tried to push it away.

However, my nerves got the best of me and I ended up slapping him. 

I felt terrible for hitting my crush and the thought of potentially ruining our relationship made me feel even worse.

I had made a plan to be cold, mean and distant from Derek in order to hide my true feelings and protect our relationship as family. 

But the thought of never experiencing those intense moments with him again made me reconsider. 

I was torn between my heart and my head, and I didn't know which path to take.

Just then, I remembered how I caught Derek and a girl kissing behind our school. 

They were so caught up in the moment that they didn't even notice me. 

I watched in curiosity as they leaned in close, their lips meeting in a soft and tender kiss.

I couldn't help but feel a pang of longing as I watched them. 

I had always been curious about what it felt like to be kissed like that, with such passion and love. 

I had never been in a relationship before and had never experienced a kiss like that.

As I walked towards the kitchen, I couldn't get the image of them out of my head. 

It's all I've been thinking throughout last night. 

I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted to feel that way too. To have someone look at me the way Derek was looking at that girl. 

To have someone hold me close and kiss me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

It's funny how a single moment can have such a profound effect on you. 

From that day on, I was more determined than ever to find someone who would love me the way Derek loved that girl. 

I was ready to experience my own romantic kiss and to feel the love and passion that comes with it.

Moreover, the person I want to share my first kiss with was none other than my stepbrother, Derek. 

But that's impossible because we're family now. 

It's hard enough to confess my feelings to him talk less of being kissed by him. 

But gosh, I so want it to be him. Why did I want it to be him. 

I was standing in front of the open refrigerator, trying to decide what to make for lunch, when I heard the doorbell ring. 

I was a little taken aback because Derek and I had just moved into the bungalow yesterday and I wasn't expecting any visitors.

I walked over to the door and opened it, and was met with the sight of a stunning brunette. 

She was wearing heavy make-up that only made her beauty more pronounced. 

Her clothes were skimpy and she carried herself with an arrogant pride. 

I noticed the luxurious car she had driven up in, parked in the driveway.

As I stared at her in surprise, she asked, "Who the hell are you and what're you doing at my boyfriend's house?"

My jaws dropped. Boyfriend? What's she talking about?

And that's when it hit me. This must be Derek's girlfriend, the girl I had caught him kissing at the back of campus yesterday.