Alisa barged into my room.

"Oh hey, nice to see you too Alisa!"

She rolled her eyes.

"You have an appointment with your stylists, we're changing your wardrobe."

I shot up from my bed.

"What! No! I like my clothes as they are thank you very much!"

"Too bad. You're going to be in the face of the public eye, you need to look presentable."

That felt personal.

She left my room and I sank back into my bed.

I hated change so much I could give Sheldon Cooper a run for his money. And all of this. Inheriting billions, having to move cross country, changing my wardrobe.

It didn't work.

What choice did I have, I couldn't give up the money, not without Avery and Libby intervening somehow.

About 20 minutes later Alisa walked back in with two stylists.

Isaac, the fuck?

They dragged me into a chair and began super analysing me.

"You have gorgeous hair," One of them said. "Who cut it?"

"Oh, um I did!"

They both looked at me like I was a psychopath.

"WHAT!" They both yelled at the same time.

"Yeah..." I shifted uncomfortably.

"Fabulous job!" The other one said.

"Thank you."

"That won't need any work, your outfit fits your style perfectly, but I think we need to spruce it up a bit."

They pulled out racks of clothing.

"Classic." A skirt, cardigan, and fitted t-shirt.

"Preppy with an edge."  He pulled another skirt, but this time with a shirt and corset.

More my style.

"Or grunge." Denim bootcut jeans and fitted t-shirts, blouses, shirts, tank tops and corsets.

Bingo!

"Grunge thank you."

The male stylist smiled.

"Far easier to style than your sister."

I smiled at that notion.

After another hour or so, my whole wardrobe was planned out.

************************************************************

Later I headed down to eat dinner and I bumped into someone. Regina George.

"Hello Kayla."

His hair was ruffled and he wasn't wearing a suit, instead he wore a shirt and khakis. The shirt was buttoned down slightly.

He looked me up and down repeatedly.

Was this guy eye-fucking me?

Then he smirked widely.

"I have a very bad idea." He said.

Was he okay?

Luckily for him I loved bad ideas.

"Wanna go for a drive?" He asked, smirking.

I wasn't that hungry anyway...fuck it.

"Sure"

He took me by my hand and walked me all the way to the garage. When the doors opened my jaw fell open at the cars. Maybachs, Sedans like nobody's business, BMW's galore.

We hoped into one of the race cars and he grinned at me evily.

He turned the ignition and we sped off, racing around the track on the property.

He was being fun. I had no clue Grayson Hawthorne was capable of fun.

We kept racing around, my hair was flying in the wind and I was laughing. I turned to see him smiling.

It was in that moment I realised I never saw Grayson Hawthorne smile. Like, really smile.

Finally, we came to a halt and fell back in the car.

We looked at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing.

"That was fun!" I exclaimed.

"It was."

The smile hadn't left his face.

God, I could look at that smile for ages.

He shifted so his face was on top of me.

I wanted to say no, but then again I didn't.

We were so close now.

His lips were barely grazing mine.

Yes! Yes!

He's going to kiss me and - 

"Kayla! Grayson!"

I shot up to see Alisa looking like she was about to have a heart attack.

"Inside now both of you!"

I got up. 

Grayson just laughed.

"Yes ma'am!" And gave a mock salute.

That's when it hit me.

He was drunk.

There were so many thoughts rushing through my head.

I wanted to cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We followed Alisa into the house and she was fuming at us. And not just us.

Issac.

"Where were you in all of this?"

Before he could answer I did.

"Alisa, it's not his fault, don't blame him."

She turned to me, still fuming.

"And don't even get me started on you. God, Kayla, I swear your sister is so much more mature than you!"

What. The. Fuck?

"Excuse me?" I said, calmly but assertively.

"Avery knows how to conduct herself. You don't!"

That's it!

"Has it ever occurred to you I'm a kid! I'm 17. I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't have to do this shit! I should be allowed to make bad decisions, and I know I'm not the most mature for my age. Hell, I'm far from it. But do you really have to compare me to her? Do you? I swear, that's everyone's excuse. What if I don't want to be her? Is that so wrong of me? Is it?"

The room was silent now.

"Well damn."

I recognised the smooth Texan accent. Nash.

"Nash you shouldn't be here." Alisa said.

"Well, I think we should ask the owner of the house what she thinks, ay , lee-lee?"

He then turned to me.

"Kayla, is it alright with you if I'm here?"

He winked slightly.

"I don't see why not." I smiled.

"Kid, why don't you get out of here, I'll take care of this."

I nodded firmly.

"As for you," He pointed to Grayson. "We're gonna talk."

I gave a sorry smile to Nash.

I nodded to Isaac to follow me out and he did.

I walked all the way up to my room, Isaac following closely behind.

I was about to retire to my room when Isaac spoke.

"Ms. Grambs, thank you. I owe you one."

I smiled softly.

"Don't mention it, I owe you plenty more."

He smiled and turned to close the door.

"Oh, and Isaac," He turned back. "We've been over this, Ms. Grambs is to formal. Call me Kayla."

"Whatever you say Kayla."

And with that he shut the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's short I know

WC: 887