I.

The Plan

I nestled deeper into the expensive loveseat, pressing my back against the smooth leather. My raw umber hair sprayed freely against my tanned skin, as I concentrated on Pilgrim's Progress in my small hands. My grey-green eyes quickly scanned the pages, information being devoured. The world was tuned out effectively, leaving me in a daze, the words on the page only visible to my twenty-twenty vision. My fingers traced the parched pages softly, soaking up everything. I took out my laptop, resuming my programs, and my fingers casually flicked the buttons on the keyboard. I typed furiously, my eyes narrowed, my nose crinkled as I memorized every detail perfectly. The gears shifted perfectly in my mind, my plan started to set in place.

"Vaughn?" I snapped out of my reverie, and glanced up to be face to face with my twin brother. Wyatt Logans—the perfect son. His perfection ranged from looks to personality. His eyes were raw green, full of excitement, and his dark chocolate hair was neatly combed. His lips were upturned in a soft smile, as he watched me, sitting on the loveseat, surrounded by textbooks. His lashes were long, and outlined his eyes perfectly, bringing out the soft dew green of his orbs. His jaw was defined, and his cheekbones high, and he resembled a model from GQ.

"Yes, Wyatt?" I replied politely, keeping my voice neutral as I locked his gaze.

Wyatt's smile faltered, for he must have detected the icy tone, and murmured, "Fencing practice in ten minutes."

"Thank you," I replied, my tone curt and signaled the end of the conversation. His smile had vanished, and turned into a small frown, as he left the room. Guilt washed over me, but I kept reminding myself it was for the better good. I shut my laptop closed, and closed the textbooks as well. I eyed them, and neatly put the textbooks onto the bookshelf in alphabetical order. I settled the laptop on my four-poster bed, and straightened my shirt.

My room was completely bare of any personality, excluding the white drapes that hung over the glass sliding doors—that led to the balcony. My walls were a whitewashed ivory, and my desks were plain, yet expensive maple. The floors were made of polished wood, and the only excess furniture was my favorite white loveseat. It was in the corner of my room, a spot where I could see every part of the room. It was useful at times, when I needed to think or look up information.

I made my way out of my room, across the hallway, and down the spiraled staircase. My steps were steady, rhythmic, and almost calculated. Wyatt was already dressed in the white fencing suit, his black hat underneath his arm, his pariser in his other.

There were only a couple things that I could defeat Wyatt at. Grades and fencing. I got into the suit quickly, tying my brown locks into a messy bun, and faced Wyatt. "Ready?"

He nodded wordlessly, and we made our way outside. We both put our hats on, and it was time. Wyatt advanced at me first, and I internally shook my head. Save energy. I parried and riposted, brushing his efforts away. Metal clashed, and I could feel the sweat building against my skin. Wyatt started to get weaker, the way his moves were slower. He edged slowly towards me, almost fearfully yet slyly. He quickly tried batting the weapon away from my agile hands, but I held it tightly. Luckily, I felt a burst of energy course through me. I foiled against him, but he parried, be it weakly. I could hear his gasps of breath beneath his hat, and I clenched my jaw. I watched as he moved towards me, and I flicked his rapier out of his hand with my own. He gasped as his pariser cluttered to the ground, and I pressed the cool metal against his throat.

"I win," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. He pulled off his hat as he pushed me back, and his face was vermilion red. Sweat edged at the ends of his ears, and matted his brown locks like gel. Wyatt's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Jealousy coursed through his eyes as he stared at me, his lips turned downwards.

Applause initiated from behind, and I turned to be see my father and two other men. "Very well done, Vaughn." The two elder men were dressed formally, in suit and tie, while the younger boy, around my age, was dressed in casual jeans and brand name t-shirt.

I pulled the hat off my face, making my sepia colored hair cascade down towards the middle of my back. "Thank you," I replied politely.

"This is my daughter, Vaughn," my father introduced, "and my son, Wyatt."

"Hello sir," Wyatt said formally, taking a step forward so he could shake hands. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.

"Hello Wyatt," the man said kindly, his voice deep yet warm. He had light brown hair with streaks of gray running through the roots. His face was crinkled, almost as if he was trying to supress laughter. His eyes were black with tinges of blue outlining it. He was no doubt handsome for his age.

He took Wyatt's hand and shook it; tightly, firmly. His dark eyes trailed from Wyatt to me. "Hello, Vaughn," he said, taking a step forward, with his calloused hand outstretched.

"Hello," I said quietly, shaking it gently, but just as firm.

"This is my son, Ryan. He's a senior, as you," the man introduced, pushing his son forward. Ryan White was somewhat lean, as in not too muscular yet not too lanky. His hair was a pale, white blond, with streaks of brown running through it. His eyes were a bright, clear blue that had swirls of gold around the pupil. His hands were stuffed into his dark jeans as he had a bored look on his face.

Ryan raised his pierced eyebrow, and rolled his eyes. "I kind of have to go. I've got to meet up with Kat."

The man nodded. "Alright. You go along, Ryan."

Ryan left casually through the gate, and glanced briefly at me, a hint of smirk on his face. I frowned in confusion, but shrugged it off. I turned my attention to the two men who were chatting quietly.

"Well, I better explain myself, yes?" the man asked, taking a seat on one of the chairs. "I'm new in town, and just got married. We're your new neighbors." I nodded, smiling softly. "Ryan just had to go meet up with his sister, Katrina. He calls her Kat."

My heart practically stopped. "K-Katrina Richardson?" I asked, quietly.

He nodded, obviously pleased. "Yes, yes. She's in your grade, I presume, since Ryan is as well. Are you both friends?"

"Yes," I lied politely. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr. White."

With that, I made my way inside the mansion, not pausing to see Wyatt's expression. I hastily stripped of my clothes as I entered my bathroom, and turned the knob for the shower. I rubbed my bare arms while the water drenched my sweaty figure, and internally I burst into tears. Kat Richardson was one of the many people that particularly despised me. She was rumored to have fallen in love with Wyatt. Wyatt and I used to be best friends, the inseparable bond that came with the twin contract. When I told him that I did not approve of Katrina, he let her go. Because of me.

Katrina Richardson was beautiful, in the natural aspect. Long, straight, white blond hair, olive eyes, perfect complexion, and a curvy body. But she was a bitch.She was scheming, rude, arrogant and a bit whorish. Or at least, just to me. In a way, I felt guilty. It wasn't my fault, was it? It was, and for that, I knew she utterly hated me.

iii.

Ryan White stepped into the mansion, brushing the imaginary lint off his jeans. Ruffling his dirt pale hair, he made his way to his step-sister's bedroom. "Kat," he called out, turning the knob slowly. As he peeked into the room, he saw her at her desk, writing. "Kat," he repeated, closing the door behind him.

Katrina looked up, a mischievous smile fitting her features. "So you met her?" she said, bitterness lacing her words.

"Yeah," he murmured, shrugging his shoulders. "She's kind of cute."

Katrina scoffed, getting up from her desk. "She's not cute at all. She's a unwanted freak who no one likes."

"Why'd you want me to meet her, again?" He asked, taking a seat on her hot-pink colored sheets.

"Let me explain, with no interruptions," Katrina said, frostily, flipping her hair. "Wyatt Logans is one of the most attractive yet unattainable guys out there. I pretty much was crazy about him, and somehow, his freaky twin sister found out. She apparently 'didn't like' me and threatened Wyatt to not go out with me. It really crushed me, since Vaughn and I never talked. Ever. That bitch! She didn't know how freakin' in love I was with him…" Katrina stopped to run a hand through her hair, then continued, "…and I'm set on getting revenge."

"What type of revenge?" Ryan drawled, a knowing smirk on his face.

"I want her to know what it feels like to get her heart broken," she said, her olive eyes piercing into Ryan's cerulean. "I need you to seduce her, charm her, make her fallin love with you. That bitch deserves what's coming."

"Now that's the step-sister I know," Ryan said. "Don't worry, this shit will be easy."