You were the cool older sister, you took pride in that.

Until you got a random call on a Thursday evening in work from your younger sisters' school, asking if you were her mom. You lied and said yes - you knew your parents would kill her for whatever she did if they found out.

So now, in a rather frustrated mood, you're walking toward her school, ready to pretend to be her mom. Even if you looked signifigantly young to be a mother to a tween.

As you approach the office, a lady directs you into the principals office. The principal? Oof, she must've done something bad. You dreaded hearing an old man lecture you and her about whatever this was about.

But that was not what you got.

You walked inside the office, a guy around your age sat behind the desk. He had slicked back raven hair, with a single few strands in the front. And when he stood, he towered over you.

"Ah, Mrs Blackwell, my name is Jax. Mr Collins." He says, standing up. "Lindsay's mother, yes?" He gestures to your sister, who is sat on the chair across from his desk with a black eye.