When it came to the English project, progress was...slow.

They had retired to Dylan's chambers. He was constantly getting distracted with all the toys and things in his room. Tawny sat at Dylan's desk, tapping her pen on the surface impatiently as she watched the half-naked teen move about his room in his gym shorts and sneakers.

Does he have ADD? Why won't he stay still? Thought Tawny, exasperated. When Dylan went over to his device to do pull-ups, she suddenly found herself staring at his muscles as they flexed from exertion.

Tawny caught herself, then looked away, clearing her throat. "Can we continue? Okay, so we have to determine theme of The Prince and the Pauper.

"That's easy," said Dylan, lowering himself back to the ground as he completed his pull-up set. "Poor people are parasites."

"What?" said Tawny, who was so shocked she dropped the pen she was tapping between her fingers. "How can you possibly that?"

"Oh come on," said Dylan, finally turning his full attention to Tawny. "Early on the pauper kid has the opportunity to set things right after he switches places with the prince. But does he do it? No! He chooses instead to live it up and take advantage of a lifestyle that he didn't deserve. Parasite."

Tawny stood up, indignant. "How dare you! Where did you get such a warped, messed-up sense of values?"

Dylan narrowed his eyes at Tawny, glowering at her. "For your information, it was my father. He taught me every that I need to know about how the world works."

Tawny scoffed. "He taught you how to be a narrow-minded, tone-deaf jerk..."

"Okay, I think we're done here," said Dylan, who was now clearly agitated. He lifted the wrist that had what look like a digital watch attached and spoke into it. "Yeah, get her out."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"But we're nowhere close to being done with this project!" protested Tawny. But as she spoke, a pair of brawny men in suits and sunglasses suddenly appeared in the room.

"Just send me what I need to do to get this over with," said Dylan as Tawny was ushered out of the room and off the premises. The last Tawny saw of Dylan was of him holding his basketball in his hand, staring at it intently. It looked as though he was going to pop it between his hands.

--

"I can't believe you went after his dad," said Maddie later that night.

Tawny and Maddie were getting ready for bed back at Ivoree Gates. Tawny was buttoning up her pajamas while Maddie continued to gawk at Tawny's brazenness. "I don't know...I don't care whether it came from Dylan or from his dad. The whole thing really pissed me off. It's like everything he says is an attack on me!"

Maddie looked thoughtful as she cleaned the lenses of her glasses with her shirt. "I dunno...to Dylan, that may have been a really low blow. Did you know that Mr. Westinghouse works so much he only sees his son two times a year? That's his birthday and Christmas."

"Oh.." said Tawny, looking down at her buttons. "No, I didn't know that. Hey, can I ask you a question? Do you know a Dylan-tante by the name of Prude?"

Maddie, looked up. "You mean, Prudence Oppenheimer? Yeah, I knew her. We used to be best friends."

"Used to?" asked Tawny.

"Yeah. We were practically inseparable in our early years. But then we arrived at Ivoree Gates and...suddenly she fell in with a bad crowd. She was actually one of Elite's Elaine groupies for a bit. You say she's a Dylan-tante now?"

"Yeah, but a reluctant one. I could tell from the moment I arrived at Dylan's that she didn't want to be there."

"Did she say why she was there?"

"Uh..." Tawny recalled the conversation, but somehow felt that information was on a need-to-know basis. "Not that I can remember..." she lied.

"Hmm..." said Maddie. For a split second, Tawny swore she could see a cloud of darkness flash over Maddie's face, but it just as quickly disappeared. "It's fine. Don't worry about Prude. She found herself in that situation, so I'm sure she'll figure out how to get herself out of it."

"Yeah, I guess..." mused Tawny, as she hopped into bed and pulled the covers over top of herself. But now SHE had to figure out how on Earth she was going to complete an A+ report when she had an F- person has her partner.

"I'll just have to be creative," she said to herself, murmuring the word 'creative' over and over until she eventually fell asleep.