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I catch them just before the road opens up and the bright blue sea appears in the distance. I guess that’s one good thing about where we’re going: the girls on the beach. It’s just a shame they’re all going to talk like Jeeves, as if they’ve got a spoon permanently stuck in their pouty mouths.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter to myself as I follow the two cars up a long ass driveway. It’s not until the very last moment that the actual house appears. It’s a huge place on a hill overlooking the ocean. The kind of house I’ve only ever seen images of in magazines, or on the TV when the piece of shit worked.

Images of the parties we can have here start to fill my mind. Maybe this place won’t be so bad after all. I can get off my face and attempt to fuck some rich chick looking to take a walk on the wild side… in every room of the house.

Parking between my brothers’ car and a flashy Mercedes, I throw my leg over my bike and head in the direction I just watched Jeeves walk into the house. He obviously thought against helping with our belongings. Wise man. He’s learning quickly.

With our bags in hand, we climb the stairs to the double front door. It’s a damn sight different to the one on our trailer that swelled up so bad in the summer we had to crawl out through a window, and that allowed the wind and rain to come inside during any storms.

“Holy crap,” Conner gasps as we walk into the entrance hall of all entrance halls. I swear to fucking god that the only house I’ve seen quite this lavish is the Playboy mansion. I’m half expecting scantily-clad women to pour through the doors for a welcome party at any moment.

Sadly, the only person who emerges from one of the many doorways is Jeeves.

“Would you like a tour?”

“Or a fucking map,” Conner mutters. Cole, however, stands totally mute and looking bored out of his skull. I know he’s taking everything in, though. It’s how his brain works.

“Just point us in the direction of our rooms. I’m sure we can figure the rest out ourselves. We might be from a trailer park, but we’re far from stupid.”

> “I’m well aware of that. I’m William, by the way.”

“I would say it was nice to meet you, Jeeves,” I spit, curling my lip in disgust, “but in all honesty, it wasn’t.”

“Right, well. You can get to your rooms via this staircase, but you do have your own at the other end of the house. If you’d like to follow me.”

For once, the three of us do as we’re told and trail behind him until he comes to a stop at a slightly less audacious staircase, although it’s still much grander than any I’ve seen before.

“At the top you’ll find four rooms. Each has a fully stocked en suite, but if you need anything extra please speak to Ellen. You can usually find her in the kitchen, which is directly behind the main staircase, and she’ll see you have everything you need.”

“How about an ounce of weed and a few bottles of vodka?”

He stares at me as if I’m going to laugh at my own joke. It’s not a fucking joke. I’m going to need that and then some if I’m meant to live here.

It’s only a year. You can do this for a year for your brothers.

“If that’s all, I’ll leave you to find your feet.” He spins on his heels and fucks off as fast as his legs will carry him.

“Shall we do this shit then?” Conner asks as we all stand like statues at the bottom of the stairs.

“Fuck it.” I move first, but they’re not far behind me.

I take the furthest door from the stairs, and the one I’m fairly sure will have the best view. I might be here for them, but they can fuck off if they think they’re getting it.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter, walking onto the insanely spongy cream carpet and looking around at my new digs. This one room alone is about double the size of our trailer.

I dump my bag on the window seat and look out at the ocean beyond, exactly as I’d hoped. Staring out at the perfect postcard view, I hope its calmness will somehow transfer into me. No such luck, because when I turn and take in the room around me, the need to smash it up is all-consuming.

I don’t want to fucking be here.

I want my old life. My shitty trailer. My state school and dead-end opportunities.

Pulling my cell from my pocket, I sync it with the speakers I find on the sideboard and turn it up as loud as it’ll go. This house might be a mansion, but I’ll make sure Uncle fucking James knows we’ve arrived.

Retrieving the packet of smokes from my bag, I pull one out and place it between my lips before falling down onto my bed. I can only assume there’s a no smoking rule in a place like this. I smile as I light up and blow smoke right into the center of the room.

I didn’t follow any rules before, so like fuck am I about to start.

I can’t hear anything over the sound of my music, so it’s not until the door opens that I realize someone wants me. Looking up, I expect to find my brothers, but instead Uncle James stands before me in his sharp three-piece suit, slicked-back hair and clean-shaven face.

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