How cute is Miko?! 

☆☆Dedication to @-autumnkisses ☆☆

N i n e : Hot-Headed

"You're home late," Mom says, looking up from her magazine as I enter the kitchen.

She's sitting at the breakfast bar, with damp blonde hair coiled into a cotton towel on top of her head. Her face is bare of makeup, exposing the freckles that dapple her cheeks like sunlight on a woodland floor. Her eyes, brown like Chloe's, scrutinise my shopping bags as I place them on the empty counter in front of her.

"It was fun," I say simply. I pad bare footed to the fridge and help myself to a can of lemonade. The speaker is playing an old eighties song in the corner of the room, and Chloe is standing beside the stove, wiggling her hips and stirring what looks to be a large pan of chilli. I flick her French braid teasingly as I pass her, before settling on the bar stool across from Mom. The can of lemonade hisses as I push down on the tag.

Mom purses her lips and glares down at the glossy image of Jennifer Aniston on her page. "You should ask before you help yourself to something."

"Sorry, Mom."

The flick of her page slices through the air. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah." I bite my lip a little to restrain my smile.

"We didn't know if you'd be hungry. I told Chloe to wait for dinner."

The urge to smile disappears. "Ah, I actually had pizza while I was out."

"Right," Mom says.

"Sorry, I should have said."

Mom frowns. "Chloe made veggie chilli. She knows you like it."

This time, I look at my sister. She's wearing fluffy socks and sliding around on the white kitchen tiles, her lips moving in synchrony with the cheesy pop hit playing out of the speakers. She doesn't seem too bothered by my lack of hunger. "Sorry, Chlo."

Chloe waves a wooden spoon. "It's fine, don't worry. We can always save leftovers."

"What did you buy?" Mom asks, unhooking her hair towel and releasing the damp blonde curls over her shoulders. She looks at my bags with interest. "Anything nice?"

I pull out a small white crop-tee from one of the Abercrombie bags, and hold it in front of my body to show Mom the fit. "Isn't it cute?"

A dimple forms between Mom's eyebrows. "Isn't it a bit...small?"

"I've worn smaller," Chloe calls from the other side of the kitchen.

Mom still seems sceptical.

"I was thinking with a pair of high-waisted jeans," I say with feigned brightness. "Maybe a cropped sweater. Style it so that it's not too revealing."

Mom looks back at the magazine. The squeeze of hope in my chest sinks down until it reaches the pit of my stomach and stays there, aching. I take a sip of lemonade, but my taste for it has disappeared in the bitterness on my tongue.

The kitchen door opens and my Dad strolls in, his hands dirty from the building site. He's a small man, around my height, with thinning dark hair and golden olive skin that he inherited from his Spanish mother. He's the head of a development company, and he comes home with burns, scars and dirt under his fingernails every day. As he passes by me in the direction of the faucet, he ruffles my hair and I squeak.

"Hey, kiddo. Nice top- is that new?"

"I bought it today," I reply, grinning at him. "I'll get you one next time."

Dad makes a scoffing noise, rubbing soap over his hands and lathering it all the way up his exposed forearms. "Not sure it's my colour. I prefer yellow hard-hats."

"Are you having chilli, Dad?" Chloe asks, placing a stack of plates on the smooth granite counter. "Do you want meat or veggie? Any toppings?"

"All of the above," Dad says.

Mom turns around on her bar stool to face Chloe. "Need any help, sweetheart?"

Chloe shakes her head and tucks her hair behind her ear, unaware of the sour cream decorating her cheek. "It's all under control. I'm handling it."

"Do you want to tell everyone your news, now that we're all together?"

Chloe slips, her hand almost hitting the hot stove top. "Oh, sure."

"News?" I question. Dad is drying his hands with a towel, seeming equally confused.

"I spoke to one of my friends from college this morning," Chloe explains, frantically grating cheese over the hot plates of chilli. "She's an executive lead at this big non-profit organisation, supporting kids from financially unstable households."

I can sense where this is going, and before I can help it, my gaze flits to Mom.

"They provide these kids with ambition training, counselling and financial grants to support them as they adjust to working life and help them to get employed. Anyway, they're looking for a new Regional Director and she wants to put my name in."

Mom's smile is radiant as she looks between Dad and I. "Isn't that fantastic?"

"That's amazing, Chloe," I say, as brightly as I can. I barely hear Dad's compliments, because my gaze is centred solely on my Mom. She's looking at Chloe with glowing pride, her eyes warm and smile genuine. I can't remember the last time she looked at me like that. Then, she reaches out to squeeze Chloe's hand and delivers the final blow.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."

Ouch. That pit in my stomach grows until I feel like it'll swallow the rest of my body whole. I stare at the counter and concentrate on my smile, until I'm sure that it's frozen on my face and cannot waver. I am happy for Chloe. I drill it into my head. I am happy for her because she deserves every good thing she gets. She deserves to be Mom's favourite. I clear my dry throat, blink a few times to rid the emotion from my eyes and try to feel happy.

When I get into Stanford, maybe my Mom will look at me like that.

When I finally look up, my smile is fixed in place. I pour as much pride as I can into my expression and dip my shaking hands below the lip of the counter, out of sight.

"You're incredible Chloe. I'm so proud of you."

My eyes flit to my Mom; her smile, her hand squeezing Chloe's.

I'll make her proud of me, too.

*~*~*

The freshman boy stares at us in disbelief. "You're offering me fifty bucks to what?"

"Get beaten up." Miko articulates clearly, throwing her hands up in frustration. The cute space buns in her hair seem more like devil's horns when paired with the determined expression on her face. "Honestly, what is so difficult to understand about that?"

"But I don't want to get beaten up," the poor kid says, frowning.

"Do you want fifty dollars?"

He nods.

Miko pats his arm. "Well, honey, you've got to stand in the dark to see the stars."

"What?"

A sigh hisses through her teeth. "Let me rephrase that in teenage-boy terms. Sometimes, you've got to get through a bit of zombie goo to end the apocalypse."

He continues to stare blankly at her. Miko groans.

"I suppose that's a bad example. Zombies eat brains, and you clearly don't have any."

"Hey!"

"What's your name?" I interrupt, pressing a hand on Miko's shoulder to stop her from strangling the poor kid. He seems grateful for the interruption and smiles at me.

"Lewis," he says confidently, adjusting his rucksack strap. He's a short, lanky freshman boy, with a blonde mop of hair and a pale complexion. Despite his weedy appearance, Miko said that this kid supposedly has a bit of a reputation for picking fights with the other freshman boys, which makes him the perfect recruit for my plan.

"Well, Lewis, I need you to go up to Chase Thatcher," I say, pointing discreetly around the corner. "And pick a fight with him. For fifty bucks."

Lewis considers my proposal, adjusting the collar of his polo shirt. "What about?"

"Anything. Be creative but make it a scene. He needs to land a punch on you."

"Why?"

"Part of the fifty bucks is not asking questions, kid," Miko snaps.

Lewis scowls, then looks back at me. "Can I fight her instead?"

"As funny as that would be, I'm going to answer no."

"Shame," Lewis says sourly. Then, he lifts his hand to his mouth to chew on his thumb nail. After a few seconds of deliberation, he stops. "Okay, I'll do it."

"You'll do it?" Miko repeats.

Lewis raises an eyebrow. "Did I stutter?"

Miko crosses her arms. "No, but I'm sure you will when Chase is done with you."

"She's just teasing," I say hurriedly, grabbing Lewis' arm. "He's just around the corner, in the next hallway. He's with Alec Ryder, you can't miss him."

Miko and I watch, leaning against the lockers, as Lewis grips his rucksack and sidles around the corner with exaggerated confidence. My fingers latch together in my pocket and my stomach gurgles with guilt and unease. If Chase attacks a younger student in the hallway, he'll certainly be expelled. My mission will be complete, and Blythe will guarantee me a place at Stanford. And Chase...I swallow the painful lump rising in my throat.

"Let's hope Chase's head is as hot inside as it is out," Miko mutters, grabbing my hand. We turn around the corner and into the hallway where hell is going to be raised.

Only, the sight we're greeted with isn't exactly what we expected.

Lewis is standing in front of a bewildered Chase Thatcher, barely scraping the height of Chase's shoulders, with his chin raised defiantly.

"You're fat!" He barks.

Chase stares at him in confusion.

Lewis bristles his shoulders. "You- you're such a pig! An ugly pig!"

"Oh no," Miko says quietly beside me. I barely register her comment, I'm too busy staring in horror as Lewis presses a finger into Chase's stomach.

"You big-big, um, fuckboy!"

"Who is this kid, Chase?" Alec asks, scratching the back of his head.

Chase looks scared. "Dude, I have no idea."

"I hate you!" Lewis continues to shout. "You-you, um, slept with...my Mom!"

"Do you think he needs some help?" Alec worries.

"She said you were more disappointing than a raisin in a chocolate chip cookie!" Lewis tries again. "You were about as satisfying as the Percy Jackson movies!"

"I'm so confused," Chase says to Alec, dumbfounded. "Is he criticising me for hypothetically not giving his Mom enough pleasure?"

Lewis is flushed bright red now. "She took you out because she knows you're trash!"

"I like this narrative he's spinning," Miko comments from beside me. "I mean, you told him to be creative. He's definitely followed your instructions."

Chase tentatively pokes Lewis' shoulder. "Um, child, go away."

"No!" Lewis shouts, batting Chase's finger away and glowering up at him, enraged. "Fight me like a man, you big coward!"

"You want me to fight you?" Chase echoes incredulously. "Who are you?"

"I'm your worst nightmare!"

"Okay, kid. Be like E.T. and go the hell home."

Well this isn't working out very well.

"Do you think it's possible that you recruited the wrong Lewis?" I whisper to Miko, gazing worriedly around the crowded hallway. People have their phones raised.

"I suppose it's possible that there's more than one Lewis in freshman year." Miko smiles sheepishly. "It's also possible I chose one of the less intimidating candidates."

I glare at her and she quickly raises her palms in surrender.

"Kumiko, what is going on?" Kai asks, appearing at her side. Despite being two years younger, Miko's brother is already taller than her. His sharp jaw and narrowed dark eyes give his appearance a maturity that Miko often downplays with her butterfly clips and space buns, and strangers would easily assume that he was the elder sibling. He scowls as he notices the people recording Lewis' embarrassing scene. "Are they humiliating the kid?"

"Wait, Kaito-"

Before Miko can grab his arm, Kai is storming through the crowd towards Chase and Alec. He pushes the fumbling Lewis aside, and in split seconds, he's inches away from Chase with his shoulders squared. Chase's eyes flare at the sudden intrusion, and he straightens up until his shoulders are matched with Kai's, paralleling his motions primitively.

"Well that's how you start a fight," I mumble. "Lewis should take notes."

"Erika!" Miko hisses. "Kai is in enough trouble as it is!"

"Come on, let's stop it before it gets any further," I say, grabbing her arm. I push through the scattered crowds of teenagers until we're standing at the side of the action, beside the two idiots. Kaito's eyes are dark and burning like coal, and his tone is equally scalding.

"Do you think it's funny to pick on someone smaller than you?"

"Funnily enough, I think he was trying to pick on me." Chase tosses a brief look of disgust towards Lewis. "So maybe get your facts right before you get up in my face."

"Kai," Miko says, grabbing her brother's arm. "Stop this. We're leaving."

Kai releases a guttural noise of disgust, before turning sharply and barging his way through our audience. Miko throws me a helpless expression before she chases after him, her ballet pumps pattering on the linoleum flooring like rain on a rooftop.

Alec bumps my shoulder as he moves to stand beside me. "Well that was more dramatic than a Dance Moms episode."

"Hey gorgeous," Chase murmurs, appearing at my other side. His face is dark with a frown as he watches Kaito's retreating figure. "I don't know what the hell just happened."

"No," I lie, watching Lewis walk away. "Me neither."

*~*~*

"Erika," a voice croons from behind me.

I purse my lips. Then, I hear a sigh and a shuffle as Joe tucks his chair closer.

"Erika," he coos again. "We're sorry!"

"Don't be grumpy with us, gorgeous." Chase leans forward over his desk to join the conversation. Something brushes the back of my arm and, glancing down at it, I realise that he's outstretching his hand to touch me. I bat it away quickly and refocus my attention to the front of the class, where the teacher is explaining Chlorofluorocarbons.

"If you talk to us, we'll stop pestering you." I hear Joe tapping that darned pencil again, trying to irritate me into turning around. I hold firm, staring forwards at the white board until my eyes start to burn. I refuse to give them the satisfaction. Not this time, in the final lesson of the day. They will not get me into trouble in this lesson. No.

"Erika," whines Chase.

"Concentrate," I hiss. I scold myself in my head for replying to them. The silent treatment is always more effective. Don't bite the bait, Erika.

"Chase wants to ask you a question." Joe's voice is closer to my ear this time, he must be leaning over his desk. "He wants to take you on a date."

I scowl. Joe and Chase have taken the let's-make-Erika-uncomfortable-by-flirting-with-her game to the extreme since Sophie's party. After Miko made her stupid comment about me being a heartbreaker, they have taken it upon themselves to prove that Chase is the biggest heartbreaker in this rodeo. Their game is essentially to flirt with me in Chemistry lessons until I blush, or fumble or break. I have yet to lose.

"Stop lying."

"Not a lie." Joe's voice is sing-song in his giddiness. "He really does want to take you somewhere after school. Turn around!"

I eye the teacher sceptically, but she seems concentrated in her explanations to Frankie at the front of the class. She won't notice if I turn around quickly, plus I've already learned about chlorofluorocarbons from the textbook anyway. Unable to resist the temptation, I quickly twist in my seat to talk to the two smug idiots sitting behind me.

Chase opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off before he has the chance.

"If you want to take me on a date, you can join the waiting list."

I turn back around to face the front of the classroom, folding my arms.

I watch Joe lean across to Chase in my peripheral vision, exaggerating his whisper so that I can hear. "She's very high maintenance, bro, are you sure you even want to hang out with her?"

I reach a hand back to smack him.

Joe whimpers. "She's violent too!"

I tuck my hair behind my ear. "Squidge, if you somehow want to con me into believing that you are more charming than I am, you need to try harder."

"If it's effort you want, gorgeous," Chase mutters. "It's effort you'll get."

I glance back curiously to see Chase leaning over his notebook, writing furiously. Joe gives me a mourning expression from his seat beside Chase, pouting and widening his blue eyes in a way that I won't ever admit is adorable. "Roses are red," he whines dramatically. "Violets are blue, you two should bang...and invite me too!"

That earns him another smack.

"Jeez, even that wasn't charming enough for her, bro. We're going to lose."

I turn back again to face the whiteboard, a smile tugging at my lips. That's when I notice the Mrs Lopez approaching from my left. Her face is creased with disdain, and her eyebrows have disappeared upwards into a heavy fringe. No, no, no. Not again.

She comes to a stop at the side of Chase's desk, releasing a rattled sigh and plucking the paper out from under his arm. The class around us hushes as they take notice of what's happening. Chase's spats with Mrs Lopez can be quite entertaining, at times.

Our teacher sighs again as she unfolds the note.

"Come with me somewhere after school, gorgeous." She reads, frowning.

"Oh, Miss," Joe replies, dramatically clasping a hand to his forehead. "I'm sure you're a lovely woman, but I really think people would frown on us dating."

The class around us erupts into laughter, and Joe grins like a cat with cream as he assesses the effect of his humour. I can practically see his ego inflating from here. I shake my head, but I can't bite back my smile. He'll regret it when he's bored in detention after school.

"Very funny, Mr Travis," Mrs Lopez comments dryly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now, Chase, would you like to explain why you think it's acceptable to pass notes in my class, when you should be listening?"

Chase smiles. "I thought it was romantic to make spontaneous romantic effort."

"And who might this spontaneous romantic effort be for?"

My heart pounds a little harder in my chest.

"Bro," Chase turns to Joe, his eyebrows creasing in mock-emotion. "I love you."

"Oh, bro." Joe slaps a hand to his mouth. "I love you too!"

Laughter fills the room again, and I roll my eyes. That's two detentions, then.

Chase reaches out to grab Joe's hand, clasping it to his chest. "I was gonna buy you some broquet of broses from the supermarket, but they ran out, bro."

"Bro." Joe's voice cracks. "You're the real-life Bromeo to my Juliet."

Chase leans towards Joe. "Bro, your eyes are as beautiful as the brocean."

"I can't believe you're so bromantic, bro." Suddenly, they're clasping both hands.

"I didn't know what bromosexual meant until I met you, bro."

The whole class is in hysterics, and even I'm laughing when Joe leans in and pecks Chase lovingly on the nose. "I wish I had a brotograph to commemorate this moment."

Mrs Lopez stands with her arms crossed firmly over her chest as she assesses them, but she's smiling a little. "You can both commemorate this moment with a 500-word essay on why disrupting class is bad. In detention, tonight. Your first date, I suppose."

As she stalks back to the front of the classroom, Joe and Chase release hands.

Chase clears his throat and stretches his arms out across the desk. Then, finally noticing me again, he winks. 

"You'll come, then?"

A/N: I was diagnosed with a tad of the old writer's block this week so sorry for the slower update! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, it feels nice to write some lighter scenes again! Very TBBSMB-ish :)

Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far!

Cherry x