"What are you wearing?" my mother asked as soon as I walked into the room. She pursed her lips in disgust and looked me up and down with daggers for eyes. "Christina Farley," she warned when I didn't answer off the bat. "What. Are. You. Wearing?"

"Soccer clothes," I replied. "Because I play soccer?" I snapped my fingers and widened my eyes in shock while a "thought" entered my head. "Oh right, you don't know because you haven't spent any time here to know what extra "curricular" activities that I do."

She scowled and folded her arms across her chest. My mother narrowed eyes at me while she pursed her lips in disgust. "Excuse me?" she asked. "Are you saying that you play in the dirt?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied. "That's what soccer players do. They play in the mud and the dirt. They get sweaty and stinky. It's the best way to lose weight." I paused and cocked my head while I studied her. "Isn't that what you want for me because I am fat?"

My mother stood and glared. She placed her hands on her hips and jutted one out. Anger filled her eyes while she stared at me with her jaw shaking. "You insolent f-"

"Hello, Mrs. Willis," Drew said, saving my ass from getting chewed out. He cleared his throat and gave her an award-winning smile. "How are you today?"

Mom's eyes grew brighter when she saw Drew at my shoulder. She smiled, and for some reason, I didn't like it. "Oh, I am absolutely grand," she said. "Now that you are here."

Warning bells went off in my head when she said that, and it took all of my self-control not to step in front of him and block her gaze from him. My whole body grew tense, and I was ready to move if I needed to, especially if it was to stop her from doing something stupid.

Drew smiled, and I could tell that it was fake, and he knew that something was up. "That is good," he replied. He cleared his throat and licked his lips. His whole body was tense, and he placed his hands behind his back while he tried to gain the courage to speak. "Why is it good that I am bere?" he asked. "If I may ask, of course."

"I was actually going to ask your mother if you could stay for a bit." She gestured to my sister, and we both looked at her and then at my mother. "I thought you would be a great influence on my daughter, especially since her sister..." She trailed off and gestured to me. "Well, you would be a better influence on her than her sister."

I held back an eye roll and scowled. "Drew had been staying here anyway," I replied coldly. "He had been keeping me company while you were out of town."

"What?" my mother asked in shock. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow in question. "Is this true?" he asked. Her whole voice was airy and light, and I had to try my best and not hurl.

Drew nodded. "Yes, Ma'am," he replied. "I had been having... family troubles, so Christina decided to let me stay. My mother knows where I am, and she agreed to let me stay over here."

I kept my face blank, but all I wanted to do was scowl, especially since he had called me "Christina" instead of "Chris" like I liked being called. I took a deep breath and let it out before I bit my tongue to keep myself from commenting.

My mother looked at me and cocked her head. Warning filled her eyes, and I could tell that I was in deep shit and would pay for this later. "Why didn't you call us, Sweetie?" she asked, her voice mocking. "We could have made sure that he was comfortable."

I opened my mouth to say something but Drew silenced me with a jab in the ribs. I closed my mouth and pursed my lips, not making a sound and thinking that I would deal with him later.

"She made sure that I was absolutely comfortable, Mrs. Willis," Drew said. "She made sure that the room was made every day by the staff you had hired and made sure that they cooked whatever I wanted."

He was lying, but my mother didn't need to know that. He made his own room and kept it cleaned so that the staff didn't need to do that much work. He also ate what they had cooked, not wanting to intrude too much into our daily lives.

"What about cleaning up any messes that you had made?" she asked, studying him. "Have they been doing that?"

"Of course," Drew replied, and he nodded. "They have cleaned up anything that I had left behind."

That was another lie. Drew had cleaned up after himself, and I was amazed because I thought he would have had us do it. However, he didn't and had surprised me immensely.

"Good, good," my mother said, and she nodded in approval. "It means that no one has to be fired." She gave me a scathing look, and I made sure to keep my face blank. "Too bad that they have to clean up after Christina," she said in disgust. "You don't know how messy she is. I mean, she doesn't do anything to help around the house. She should be the one that does it herself, but she does." She shook her head and sniffled, feeling "bad" for the staff while she dried her eyes. "The poor staff has to do everything for her. She won't make a great housewife."

Anger filled my body, and I bit my tongue hard until I tasted blood. All I wanted to do was lash out at her, especially since she was doing it in front of a guest that had lived in the same house as me for a couple of days.

It was she who was messy, leaving her room in disarray every single time she came and left. It was she who made everyone clean after her, even leaving a simple piece of glass near the kitchen sink when there was an empty dishwasher right beside it. And it was she who was not a good housewife.

Clarissa scoffed and rolled her eyes, and both my mother and I turned to look at her. She had a blank and innocent look on her face, and her eyes were wide and filled with innocence. "Yes, Ma'am?" she asked innocently as if she had no idea why we were looking at her for.

"What was that for?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. Warning filled her tone, and Clarissa flinched away from our mother because she had never had to deal with the way our mother was acting. "What was the reason for that sound that came out of it?"

"Oh, nothing," Clarissa said and shook her head. She cleared her throat. "I was clearing out my throat, and it sounded like a scoff." She cocked her head and looked at her with innocent doe eyes that only she could pull off. "Can you forgive me, Mother?" she asked.

My mother's eyes grew softer, and she patted my sister's head like a dog. "Of course, Dear," she said, and it took all of my self-control not to gag. "I forgive you. Do not do that again. Do you understand, Clarissa Ray? That is not ladylike."

"Of course, Mother," she replied, and for some reason, I had a feeling that she was lying. "I will not do it again."