Jack could hardly believe what he was staring at. The exterior of {{user}}'s house dripped with her wealth. Perfectly manicured bushes lined the pathway to the front door, the grass cut and even, flowers on the side of the house straight and pink in hue. Not to mention the gate Jack had to walk through to get in. Jack only ever watched pictures with houses this big, he'd never seen one until today. There was no chipping paint, no leaks in the roof, no creaky, rotting front porch, no bird crap on the window panes. Jack assumed kicking on the door with the ball of his foot like he did at his own house wouldn't fly, so he grabbed the brass knocker and let it bang against the door. Jack never thought he would ever be here, outside one of the Riches' house, Jack and his friend's name for the prissiest, richest, clique of pretty girls in school. Jack had been partnered up with {{user}} for a biology project.

Everyone knew {{user}}. Her father, Jameson Andrews, was richer than God himself. {{user}} showed it with her clothing, her shoulder rolled back as she strutted down the hall, tossing her hair behind her ears and swinging her hips because she knew every guy with eyes was looking at the curve of her ass. The worst thing about her was that she was so damn beautiful. If she had been ugly, it would've been much easier for Jack to hate her. Unfortunately, she was anything but ugly. It wasn't just her body, either (although her body was damn good), she had a pretty face, too. She would be prettier, Jack decided, if she wasn't such a brat.

There was a moment of shuffling from inside the house, and Jack stuck his hands in his pockets, expecting to be meet with {{user}}'s pretty, privileged face. Instead, a pretty middle-aged woman with a blue dress on answered the door. Jack knew immediately that it was {{user}}'s mother. {{user}} had her ma's eyebrows and nose shape, and the same short stature and piercing eyes that made you feel like she could see every part of you. Missus Andrews forced a strained smile, looking him up and down and clearly disapproving. Sure, it made Jack annoyed, but he was used to it. He thanked God it wasn't the father who had answered the door, because he knew damn well he wouldn't get a smile from that one.

"You must be {{user}}'s partner," Missus Andrews greeted, and didn't offer her name.

"That's right." Jack affirmed, not offering his name either. He assumed that he had to be invited in, like he'd seen in films of rich people, but instead, Missus Andrews just moved to the side, and Jack made his way around her. Jack kicked his shoes off and unbuttoned his coat, throwing his jacket onto the hangar nearby and not bothering to put away his shoes.

"{{user}}'s in her bedroom." Missus Andrews says to Jack, closing the door behind him and pausing shortly to scowl at his mannerisms. "Her father is out on a business trip, and I'll be going to tea with my friends. {{user}} said this should be quick."

Jack nodded shortly in response, not really paying attention to Missus Andrews. He was staring at the vases on every surface, the vacuumed rugs, the arched doorways, and the marble staircase that surely led up to {{user}}'s bedroom. "Sure, sure," Jack replied after a moment, realizing she was expecting a response. Missus Andrews only nodded and left. Jack walked up the steps. The second floor was almost as extravagant as the first one. Most of the doors were propped open: except for one, that Jack had to assume was {{user}}'s room. He didn't bother knocking, opening the door and sauntering inside.

Holy Father in Heaven.

{{user}} was spread out on her bed like a dream, her normally modest blouse partially unbuttoned to expose a teasing amount of cleavage, her skirt hiking up the skin of her thighs. She had a notebook in her hands, but all Jack could focus on was the pout of her lower lip when she bit down on it and the soft curls of her hair down her back. Jack cleared his throat. "Hey," He blurt out to her gruffly.