It was one o'clock in the morning, and the mansion-like house was still. Quiet.  And yet, there was an unsettled thrum under my skin that I couldn't quite swat away, no matter what I did. Once I got home from school, I immediately drew a hot bath, dumping a generous heaping of sweet-smelling bubble bath solution into the steaming water, which tinted the water a pale pink. 

I had sat there, fingers pruning until the water cooled to an uncomfortable tepid temperature, scrubbing at the skin that still did not feel like mine. The soap I slid over the skin did not follow the contours of a body I was used to, and in the silence of the marbled bathroom everything seemed to hit me all at once.

It wasn't quite the same as the fall after an adrenaline rush, where your hands shook and your legs grew weak. I would have preferred the shaking limbs, rather than the unnerving sense of... helplessness. It was that feeling of being completely alone in a world I did not know, in a body that was not mine. I did not know where to step, not sure where the edge of the path was. In fact, I was sure I had fallen off it, and as I slid down into the cool bath water that grew salty with my smothered tears, I had never felt more lost.

Xander's parents came home later that night, catching me as I was getting out of the bath. They had said hello, before walking down the hall and through two separate doors.

Xander's father was a tall, well-built man, robust in stature and clad in a crisp striped suit. There had been a passing comment in the original novel that the man was a high-powered lawyer, hence the grand house and its expensive furnishings. The novel never mentioned the man's name, his existence merely starting and ending as 'The Main Lead's Dad'.

Xander's mother held a similar air to the man, both of them almost... empty, in the way they glided through the house. She was beautiful, of course - slender and tall, a little willowy. Her hair was perfectly coiffed into vintage waves, strands a cool blonde tone. She wore a green silk dress cinched in the waist by a designer belt and pointed toe heels, looking every part the elegant lady of a fine house such as the one I had been thrust into.

Xander's mother was an heiress of some sort, I recalled from the novel. Old money, or as old as you could get in Australia, I supposed. There hadn't been many details in the novel, her characterisation expanded only so far as to make the reader painfully aware that she was as rich as you can imagine.

Ultimately, they were strangers to me, and to every other reader of 'Say No to Bad Boys'.

Xander's parents walked down the halls without looking at me again, and I realised that, maybe, they were strangers to Xander too. 

I rolled over in the bed, curling my knees to my chest and clutching at a pillow, almost burying myself completely under my blankets. 

The house was too quiet at night, and that only made me feel more alone. I could feel my eyes growing wet again, and I laughed weakly to myself, voice clogged as thoughts about my past life drifted over my tumultuous mind.

As sad as it was, there was not much that I missed from my life as Alexander Smith, but the things I did miss I missed desperately. Even with Xander's flashy Dodge Challenger, I missed my rust-bucket car that perpetually smelled like KFC. I missed my wardrobe full of slouchy knit jumpers, worn and frayed but soft and secure. I missed my small house, with my couch that had a divot in the centre in the shape of me. 

And, most of all, I missed my sister. I missed my twin, my other half, the one that has always been beside me since before I was even born. It occurred to me now that this was the first time I had truly been without Amber, and the thought made me hug my pillow tighter, wishing it was her.

It took a long time for me to fall asleep, and when I did, I dreamed of another life.

***

We were seven year old, and the babysitter mum and dad had hired was upstairs talking to someone called 'Baby' on the phone - weird name, Amber and I thought, but we didn't care. The babysitter always let us have the biscuits mum kept in the tall pantry, and she didn't bother us, which was nice.

Amber looked at me with a wide, gapped grin as I put the finishing touches on our pillow fort. We had strung a bed sheet across the banisters of our twin beds on opposite sides of the room, throwing all of our blankets and pillows onto the floor. The room was dark, but Amber took her rotating starry night light into the middle of our fort, and the stars moved lazily across the white sheet that separated us from the world outside.

The two of us giggled as we flopped onto the soft floor of our fort, tugging on the blanket until it folded over into a tent-like door. Amber snuggled up to my side as we shared our biscuits and chips, the two of us  warm and snuggled under the blankets.

We talked about school, about all the other kids who made fun of us -  the other boys in class always said I was a loser for hanging out with my sister all the time, or that I was fat and slow and bad at tag. The other girls said Amber was covered in boy germs because she always played with me, or that her short hair made her look like a boy and that she dressed like one too. 

We also talked about dreams and make believe, about worlds other than this, where everything was magical. We talked about a world where we could be people that weren't made fun of, that  weren't fat or slow or bad at tag but pretty and fashionable instead, and where boy germs were good germs. We talked about a world where we could be happy, and maybe find people to love us.

But then, we looked at each other and both thought - oh, why do we need that? I'm already happy, because you're here, and I'm here, and together we're happy.

"Promise we'll be together forever, Lex. Never ever go away, okay?" Amber said, turning to me with matching brown eyes, pinky stretched out. I did not hesitate to nod, letting out a firm "Mm," linking my finger with hers and shaking three times.

Because I could never imagine being without Amber. Never ever.

***

I could feel the dark circles under my eyes making their presence known, but apparently being exhausted made Xander look strangely erotic, with his almost glossy emerald eyes and half-lidded gaze. Even the bed head I hadn't had the energy to tame had just added to my apparent sultry appearance, girls almost dropping to the floor and turning into moaning puddles the moment I walked into the classroom. These reactions were concerning, and warranted a trip to the doctors, I thought.

I sidestepped said puddles, making my way to the back of the classroom, since I wasn't sure if I  could keep my eyes open after such a terrible night's sleep. It may have been the aura I was emitting, or perhaps it was just the status quo Xander had established before I possessed his body, but everyone avoided the seat next to me almost warily.

The protagonist, Aubrey, soon walked in. She glanced at me once, her eyes then dropping to the seat next to me, her lip finding its way between her teeth. She didn't walk to the back of the classroom, though, tucking herself in the front row by the window instead.

A sleepy recollection of a passage from 'Say No to Bad Boys' drifted to the forefront of my mind.

No one could sit next to Xander Hart in class, not unless they were invited. Most of the time, his best friend Jake was the one to occupy the seat to his right, but if he wasn't in the class, then it would usually be the lucky girl of the day. Or, if she was really lucky, she would be the flavour of the week, so to speak.

Jake didn't share the same English class as Xander, so this was one class that everyone made sure to watch. The seat beside Xander was coveted by the female population of the school - who would be chosen by Xander to sit there today? Everyone would always watch with bated breaths for the boy to saunter into the classroom to see which girl he had draped on his arm. 

On this particular day, a Monday that seemed like any other, the whole world was shaken to its molten core.

Everyone's mouths dropped open when Xander walked in, hand in hand with Aubrey, who trailed behind him with a blistering red blush and hunched neck. Xander just smirked, sitting down in his usual chair and tugging the girl - Aubrey - down with him...

Straight onto his lap.

"Definitely no lap sitting today, ugh," I mumbled sleepily to myself, rubbing at my eyes that grew blurry. The English teacher prattled on about a project, in which we were supposed to analyse one of the selected poems by John Donne and present our findings in both a written analysis and an oral presentation. I was drifting in and out of the teacher's rambling, until I caught the words - 'And you'll be doing this project with a partner'.

I shot up in my seat, a jolt of foreboding slapping me in the face.

Ohhhh, no, no, no. I know where this is going. God-fucking-damn it, I reject this reality!

"I'll be assigning your project partners, so listen up," the teacher said, clearing her throat as she glanced down at the class roll.

I knew what was going to happen, because...

Well, what else could possibly happen?

The laws of this universe could not be broken. 

"Aubrey, you will be partnered with..." the teacher said, pausing for what seemed like forced dramatic effect and suspense, everyone looking bored since Aubrey was a no-one to them. But I knew better. Even if there were 13049301984 possible people she could be partnered with, the chance of her being partnered with the main lead was 13049301984%.

"Xander," the teacher finished, and all at once a cacophony of surprised noises erupted from the room and I groaned, rolling my eyes and fighting back the urge to slam my head repeatedly against my desk. Aubrey's eyes widened as she swivelled in her chair to look at me, before flinching at the death glares some of the girls were now shooting her way.

Fuck you, teacher! Why do you have to drag me into the middle of the drama?!

I just want to live a quiet fucking life, is that too much to ask?!

The teacher soon dispersed everyone to begin working on the poems with their partners, and said that the assignment was due in a fortnight. 

Aubrey meekly made her way back to my empty table, nervously shifting her weight from foot-to-foot as she looked at the chair next to me.

Oh, for fuck's sake - it's just a chair.

"You can sit, Aubrey," I said, the girl's eyes turning comically wide. 

"You know my name?" she asked in a soft voice, and I just gave her a flat look, internally tearing my hair out with a scream.

Of course I know your fucking name, you're the bloody protagonist! You're the one that this body has his ding-a-ling buried in for almost 113 chapters!

"Of course, we're in the same class," I said, letting out a quiet snort. "And the teacher literally just called out your name."  

"O-Oh, right. Of course," Aubrey stammered, almost grimacing in embarrassment. 

"Plus, you were my detention airplane buddy," I added, corner of my mouth quirking up as Aubrey's mouth popped open, before the girl let out a gentle laugh.

"My airplane was a total fail, though," she said, shoulders relaxing as she offered me a smile, which I returned with a proper one. 

"Well, you have plenty of time to improve," I said, Aubrey rolling her eyes at that.

"I don't plan to get detention again any time soon," the girl responded, glancing at me with a shamelessly disbelieving look when I replied, "Me too." 

Well, at least the current Aubrey knows exactly what kind of person Xander is. Too bad she got her brains and intelligence fucked out of her when she caught sight of Xander's spear of lust.

I laughed at her expression, shrugging and opening my books to the poem we were assigned - 'The Good-Morrow'.

Oh, a love poem. Good God.

This world is just out to get me, isn't it?

A/N: The project partners cliche is obviously one of my favourites, considering it has appeared in two of my stories now *wiggles eyebrows*

Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you are enjoying the story so far! I'm hoping to get more writing done once I get more free time, I'll definitely be trying to continue getting one chapter out each week! xx