Author: Claire Adams
Category: Young Adult
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/30247_8
“A crack den no doubt,” I said, raising my voice.
“I assumed no such thing,” Mila replied. “I just…didn’t expect this, that’s all.”
The place was empty when we entered. I could hear sounds on the top floor, and I knew that a few boys would be upstairs.
“You want anything to eat?” Devon asked.
“I’m not hungry,” Mila replied.
Whispers: Interactive StoriesMake your own choices and decide what happens next!
“You’ll have to pitch in around here,” I said, turning to her. “We don’t run a charity here. You’ll have to earn your keep.”
“I have no problem with that,” Mila said as her blue eyes flashed at me.
She was wearing a white t-shirt with a low V neckline that revealed a hint of cleavage. I felt my eyes slip before I forced them up to her face again.
“I’ll add you to the roster,” I continued. “Everyone who spends the night here has chores they need to do.”
“Fair enough,” Mila nodded curtly.
“Housework should be something you’re familiar with,” I said.
I wasn’t exactly sure why I was baiting her. It wasn’t like I meant what I said or that I was sexist in any way. I just knew that would piss her off and I wanted to get a rise out of her.
“Excuse me?” Mila said, narrowing her eyes at me.
I turned one corner of my mouth up in a tilted smile. “I hope to God you’re actually good at it though.”
“You’re a fucking asshole,” she spat, and that only made me smile wider.
“Come on, Mila,” Devon said, stepping in between us. “I’ll show you to your room.”
“Don’t bother,” I said firmly. “I’ll show her where it is… after all, it’s right next to mine.”
I saw Mila grit her teeth together, but she didn’t say anything. She grabbed her bags and followed me upstairs while Devon stayed in the living room looking supremely uncomfortable. I pointed out the door on the left to my room.
“That’s you,” I said.
Mila nodded once and headed towards it. I leaned against the doorframe and watched as she dropped her bags by the side of the bed. She looked around critically and glanced at me.
“How long have you lived here?” she asked.
“Two years.”
“That’s it?” she asked, seeming surprised by that.
“Yes.”
“And how long have you been president for?”
“Six months.”
“That was a fast rise,” Mila pointed out. “Your father was president before you right?”
“That’s right,” I nodded.
“Nepotism at its best, huh?” she asked, regarding me coolly.
She was just doing what I had done a moment ago… she was trying to get a rise out of me. It might not have worked if only for the fact that I was already touchy about my position in the club considering my family history with it.