My Mom is a whore.

I don't mind saying it at all. She's been that way as long as I can remember. Despite her high reputation as a dependable lawyer she still finds time to sleep around on weekends and sometimes weeknights.

This is the part where you ask: What does your Father do about it?

The answer: The exact same thing.

On one hand I have a lawyer/slut mother and on the other I have a businessman/man-whore/compulsive gambler/jerk Father.

The only thing we share in common with our parents is the attractiveness. I think the main reason why Mom married him was because of his good genes. She's always wanted the Disney-perfect family, minus the obligation. Andrew and I got Nana's and she got her share of men. It's safe to say she's slept with almost every available and unavailable man in the county. Heather Cortez's father included.

All this explains why I wasn't overjoyed to see her that Sunday evening. John and the rest of the league of hot pool hoppers had already left and the house was in relative order. Andrew was relaxing on the couch, a manly car magazine in hand while girls in bikinis strutted on the television screen. I was looking digging in our industrial sized freezer for ice cream when we heard it. The low rumble of Mom's Escalade. I know, HOW did she afford it?

Our eyes met from across the room. "Shit." Andrew muttered changing the channel to a bored looking News Woman with her hair in a too tight ponytail.

"You can say that again." I shoved the Ben and Jerry's back into the freezer. Until next time, my love.

We listened in silence to the familiar sound of her keys jingling in the lock and Dad complaining. They take these 'romantic weekends' to convince us that 'no, we're not getting a divorce.' At this point in our lives, I almost wish they would.

"Darlings! I'm home!" Mom swung the door open with too much flair, her arms extended in a showgirl pose. "Come give your Mother a kiss!"

Do I have too? I shared a doomed look with Andrew "No thanks." I said, heading towards the stairs "I'm allergic to bullshit."

Mom's jaw snapped closed. She brushed her 'not too long, not too short' black hair out of her eyes. They were blue, a cold shade of blue but nowhere near as icy as mine. I stared back at her, daring her to say something. She took the challenge. She's a lawyer she pretty much has too. "And what is that supposed to mean?" she moved out of the doorway allowing Dad to drag the bags in.

He immediately sensed the tenseness in the atmosphere and made a hasty retreat mumbling something about more stuff in the car. Smart choice.

"It means," I answered, mocking her business voice "That I'm sick of all this pretending. I don't want to hug you. I don't want anything to do with you."

She nodded her head considering. After a brief pause "Well, that's too bad. I don't abuse you, I feed you, clothe you, care for you as only a Mother can."

I threw back my head, laughing a harsh mocking laugh. "Care for me?" I shook my head pityingly, running my hands through my hair to hide their shaking "That's rich. You care for yourself, for your friggin' image."

"Tiger…" Andrew said softly in the background.

"That's alright." Mom cut him off with a wide smile "Because she's stuck with me until she's eighteen."

"That's only a year away." I pointed out.

"I know. I just hope you enjoy paying your own way through college. Now," she clapped her hands once the same way Piper had the previous day "Stop being such a whiny little bitch and carry my stuff upstairs." She yawned loudly, dramatically "I need my beauty rest for tomorrow's case."

I rolled my eyes. She spent more time in the judges' office than anywhere else. Still, I bent over like a dutiful daughter and carried her three ton bag upstairs, all the while envisioning dropping it on her perfectly groomed head and escaping.

"Wow, you look really tired."

No shit, Sherlock. I wanted to pummel Piper's cheerful little head into the ground. Instead I straightened out my bookbag and pivoted with a giant fake smile. "Gee thanks, I really needed that. God knows I couldn't get through my day until you gave me that little piece of information."

"Wow." She blinked from behind her nerd glasses "You're really catty today aren't you."

I didn't answer. I made my way through the crowds as they once again parted like the Red Sea for Moses. I smiled at a few cheerleader prospects, ignored the goth guys trying to hide their joints, and winked at Terrence Williams, who is H.O.T. but totally gay.

"Are you coming to my house?"

I whirled around, my loose hair slapping some passing freshman. "Why are you still following me?" I demanded through gritted teeth.

"Becaaauuussseeeee…" she shifted her weight from side to side like she had too much energy to stand still. You never know with little nerds. "I have Art just like you, this is my last period, just like you, and afterwards I'm going to my house, JUST LIKE YOU!"

I leaned back from her red-faced, panting self. "Did you have Red Bull today?"

"YES!" she roared "And it is messing with my HORMONES!"

A couple passerby's gave us weird stares. I shrugged, keeping my expression totally innocent while I made the universal 'she's crazy' gesture. "Okay… I think you need to take a different path to class, and maybe practice your breathing."

"Right." She nodded, totally focused, her small face grim "Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in…" I ran off before she could notice.

Piper cornered me by the time the bell rang. I barely gathered my bags before she was right there. It was like she had a superpower. Super-nerd to the rescue. "Okay let's go! My house is kind of far away and…" I covered her mouth.

"Okay 1. I don't care. 2. I don't care. and finally, 3. I don't care. Let's get this over with."

She smiled, surprisingly cheerful, and grabbed my arm dragging me out school. You'd think a two pound nerd would be really weak like myself, but being yanked around like her way similar to that scene in King Kong where the giant gorilla waves the blond around. Except I'm not blonde. Still it was total déjà vu.

"Here's my car!"

Wait, since when were we in the parking lot? I gave her a wary glance before following her gaze to a car that could only be described as the Hoopty-mobile. It was a small black Buick, similar to what George Washington crossed the Delaware River with, only his wasn't rusty. I swear the rust was everywhere, like a second coat of paint. The windows were cracked and through them I could see an ancient set of dice hanging from the inside mirror, which honestly was probably giving its last breath as we spoke. The wheels were relatively new, which was the only visible plus.

"No way in hell."

Piper frowned up at me. I was much taller than her now that I was wearing those cute black heels that were on sale at JCP's. "Why not? It's perfect!"

"For a creepy old vampire, yes. For me, no." I was ready to go ask Brent, a.k.a. Mr. I drive a Hummer so I'm a real man, for a ride. He'd probably take it the wrong way, but I'm pretty good at self defense and I have pepper spray in my Coach Bag.

"You're just picky."

"Or maybe I just have high standards."

She glared at me and I glared right back. A pigeon flew by, pooping on her shoulder. "Okay fine." I gave in as she squealed and tried to remove the 'unholy item' from her shirt.

We arrived at her house in like three minutes. Her car may have been old, but I swear she stole the engine from a NASCAR driver. She floored the pedal the whole way there, and probably took out every mailbox on the street.

The car finally screeched to a halt inches away from the garage door. My perfectly tended hair was probably standing in every direction. My hands clutched the door handle so hard there were imprints of my fingers on it. And Piper? Yeah she was laughing, AND singing along to some Justin Timberlake song. She bobbed her head off beat as she unlocked the doors and took the keys out of the ignition.

"Here we are." She said after Justin finally stopped crooning about summer and love. "What do you think?"

I hadn't known what to expect, but still her house didn't disappoint. It was a large, two-story, white-Victorian house with a charming little flower garden and an equally charming little bird mailbox. It looked like the kind of place Snow White would live in if she were alive in the 21st Century. A small, cobblestone path led to her shaded front door.

"It's nice." I admitted aloud. "Much nicer than my house anyway."

"No. Yours is nicer, we just take better care of our lawn."

"True."

I battled the door handle for a while before it finally consented and let me out the car. I smoothed my long black hair down self consciously and followed her up the path towards the door. Piper dug a small bronze set of keys out of her purse and opened the door, gesturing for me to go in first.

The inside was just as charming as the outside; yet there were still signs that it was an inhabited house. A pair of shoes here, a magazine there, a flute on the couch… It was like a Barbie Dream house for real people. For the first time in a long while, I actually envied someone.

I took my shoes of politely, my eyes never leaving the wall to my right where dozens of pictures hung. Some were obviously of friends and distant relatives, but my eyes automatically found the family portraits. They too were charming, with the cute little backgrounds that you pay an extra dollar for rather than the traditional one color theme.

"Wait…" I paused at a familiar looking boy in a picture, standing behind Piper with his hands on her shoulders. "Is that…?"

"TRISTAN!" Piper bellowed, startling me "LEXIE! DUMMY AND DUSTY! I'M HOME!"

"I DON'T FREAKIN CARE!" A distinctly male voice yelled from upstairs.

Piper grinned "Looks like they're all home." I followed her into her Martha Stewart kitchen, island and all. My bare feet nearly slipped on the black marble tile. "Would you like something to eat?" she opened the fridge revealing several plates full of food all covered in plastic wrap. "Mom's usually busy." She explained "So she makes our dinners in advance. All we have to do is heat them up."

"Oh. That's cool." I wasn't sure what else to say. I was still getting over the fact that Piper was related to-

"Hey Tristan." Piper said without turning her back, her jean-clad rear sticking up in the air as she searched a bottom drawer for some pudding cups.

My whole back stiffened as I turned. Un-freakin-believable. No way. Yet there he stood, the resident god and player of our school. Of course now that he was standing right there in a green polo and casual jeans, I could see the resemblance between him and Piper. They both shared similar hazel eyes. While his were closer to gold, hers leant more towards green. They also had the same silky light brown hair.

Tristan towered over his sister, and myself, leaning against the counter and smirking. "Well, well, well…" he said, as if he'd been taking lessons from Disney villains "What do we have here? Little Miss Tiger Lynn Anderson."

"You know Tiger?" Piper's voice asked from deep inside the fridge. I wondered if she'd fall in.

"That's a dumb question." Tristan rebutted, "Everyone knows Tiger."

"Tristan." I coldly acknowledged, hiding the fact that I was completely floored by his sexiness. It's no lie that he is the best looking guy at school. With his mussed light brown hair, piercing hazel eyes, and lean-but muscular build how could he not be? Unlike most of the males on the sports team, his attractiveness wasn't the usual 'bulky jock appeal.' Instead he was beautiful, sinful, and utterly unattainable.

Piper emerged from the fridge triumphantly wielding two chocolate pudding cups. "FOUND THEM!" was her victorious cry "Come on Tiger, sit at the island with me."

I then noticed the bar stools lined along the island. I slipped into the farthest one from Tristan, graciously accepting my pudding cup.

"Are you sure that's allowed in your diet?" Tristan sneered.

I turned to him, like my Mother, unafraid to accept a challenge. "I don't diet, but from the looks of it I think you should."

That was a lie of course. He knew it. Piper knew it. Hell, I knew it. He smirked, opening his (gorgeous) mouth, probably to insult me when someone mercifully cut in.

That someone was a power ranger. No seriously. It was a little kid, no higher than four feet tall, charging into the kitchen with a Red Ranger mask shoved promptly on his/her head. "ALERT! DANGER! DANGER! CALLING THE RED RANGER! CALLING THE RED RANGER!"

Piper and Tristan seemed unperturbed as the kid crashed into the island and fell spread-eagled on the ground. The kid leapt to his/her feet, his/her tenacity surprising me, before he/she took off running again. This time he/she was joined by a pink ranger. Ah so one was a girl and one was a boy.

Their arms blurred as they struck the various battle poses known only to the Power Rangers and their rabid kid fans.

"Dummy!" Piper snapped "Dusty! What did Mom tell you about running around the house?"

"Pow! Pow!" the Red ranger said, firing the imaginary gun on his arm "You're dead!"

"No," my partner slid off her stool, clearly enraged "You are if you don't go outside."

"We don't want to." The Pink Ranger whined, stamping her foot. I don't recall that particular moment in my early years of the show.

"Dusty…" Tristan said warningly.

The Pink Ranger, Dusty, slid off her helmet revealing short dark brown hair and bright green eyes. She was cute, as far as young children go, and slightly chubby as was her counterpart. "We never get to play in the house!"

"For a good reason," Piper began guiding The Pink Ranger and The Red Ranger outdoors "Now go play. Stay in the back yard!"

"NAG!" The Red Ranger yelled before taking off, The Pink Ranger behind them.

"Oh thank God…" A voice sighed from the direction of the living room. A girl came into view. She looked to be in the eight grade with long dark gold hair pulled high into a dramatic bun. "I thought they'd never leave. These children are ruining my life!"

"Don't be such a drama queen." Tristan reprimanded, already tired from the Ranger attack.

"Drama!" The girl yelled with grand flourish "Is my LIFE! Am I not allowed to have perspirations?"

"I think you mean aspirations." Piper corrected, already finishing her pudding cup.

"A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet!"

Piper gave me an apologetic look, but seemed unembarrassed by her family's bizarre behavior. I wondered if this were an everyday occurrence. Life certainly wasn't half as interesting in our household. Only on occasion would Andrew and I pass each other, and even then we didn't talk as much. We both had different lives. He was still my best friend but we both understood that life was too busy for us to spend time together like we used to.

I watched in quiet amusement as Tristan herded the drama queen upstairs, saying something about shoving a play book up her nose. Soon all was quiet once more. My pudding cup was empty. I realized I had downed it in the midst of the family excitement. Piper's family was possibly more entertaining than television.

"Sorry about Lexie," Piper said softly, gathering our pudding cups and dumping them into a small silver garbage can "She wants to be an actress, like an onstage one."

"Well…." I said, once I noticed she was waiting for me to say something "At least she has aspirations."

"I think you mean perspirations."

I laughed. Not my usual bitchy-diva laugh, but a real one. It felt nice. I almost forgot what it felt like. "What about the other two?"

"Dummy and Dusty?"

"Are those their real names?"

Piper shook her head "Nah, we just call them that for short. Dusty is the girl, the Pink Ranger you saw. Her real name is Destiny. Her twin brother is Dominic but Dummy is so much easier to say."

"Ah," I smiled "Understood."

"Well." She said after a brief pause "I guess we can go upstairs and get started."

"Alright."

I once again trailed behind her up the staircase, down a long hall, and into her bedroom. On the way we passed Tristan's open door, where he gave me a long suggestive once-over before I slipped by. I hated him.

"You do?" Piper blinked, shoving her bedroom door open.

I hadn't realized that I said that aloud. Now that I did, I knew it was true. "Yeah, players like him, they make me sick."

"Isn't that the same thing you do though?"

She was right, of course, but I bristled anyway. "Not exactly. I don't serial date and break people's hearts."

"But you still break hearts." She pointed out, plopping on her bed, the pink My Little Pony sheets wrinkling beneath her tiny frame. Piper's bedroom was insane, and offbeat, clearly reflecting her and her family. The bed was My Little Pony; her desk set was a Pirates of The Caribbean one complete with a rug. The walls disobeyed all laws of reason and were swirled various pastel shades of orange, pink, lavender, and blue.

She noticed my observations "Like my room?"

"It's crazy." I said honestly.

"That's the point."

I seated myself carefully at her desk, looking around, my eyes struggling to take everything in at once. I found another portrait of Tristan on her desk beside the roguish Captain Jack Sparrow. "Ugh."

"I don't like what he does either," Piper said "But he's still my brother, and when you get to know him, a pretty nice guy."

"Whatever. He still needs to learn his lesson!" I declared self righteously. I sounded like a total hypocrite, but girls are more emotional than guys are. How could he just crush them one by one and not feel anything?

His biggest scandal was dumping a senior girl, Melissa Gilbert, for her younger sister and then dumping her younger sister for her best friend! Despite the obvious disgust everyone felt for him, the girls still fell at his feet.

"A lesson?" Piper sounded interested, a strange gleam in her hazel green eyes as she pulled her hair into a tight ponytail. "Like having his heart broke, that kind of lesson?"

"I dunno, yeah, that kind of thing."

The mere thought was simply delicious. If we could find one girl, to crush him, leave him devastated, then the rest would be avenged.

"Impossible." She shook her head firmly "There's not a single girl out there who's immune to his charms. She'd fall for him in a day."

"Wait, you're saying you WANT someone to break your own brother's heart?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"He's your brother!" I felt the need to point out.

Piper rolled her eyes "Melissa Gilbert's younger sister Kirsten used to be my best friend."

"Used to be?" I struggled to sound indifferent.

"After what my brother did to all three girls, she wanted nothing to do with me. She made sure that no one wanted to be my friend. Why do you think I have little, to no friends at all in school?"

I hadn't even realized that Piper was almost always alone. I naturally assumed that she had a clique of little nerd friends to hang around with and be, I dunno, nerdy with. I blinked in shock. "Did you tell Tristan that?"

"He doesn't care." she shrugged noncommittally, her skinny arms encircling a loud pink My Little Pony pillow "Playing girls is what he does best."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, that's why I liked your idea. It's too bad that everyone's in love with him." She picked at the fringe of the pillow. From Tristan's room I could hear his low voice talking to someone on the phone. Judging by the tone it was probably a girl he was working his way into seducing. I watched, almost feeling bad for the little geek. Because I was watching her, that's how I saw the way her hazel-green eyes suddenly lit up. "Not everyone is in love with him!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"Oh. Wonderful." I glanced discreetly at a clock, wondering how long her little confession would take. I needed to go shopping for this weekend. "I hope it all turns out well. Now can we get to studyi-" I cut off, not liking the way she was looking at me. I went into bitch mode "What?"

"YOU HATE HIM!"

Her voice had me cringing "So?"

"You can be the girl, the girl to break Tristan's heart."

"Well that's just wonder-WHAT?"

End Chapter

Piper is a little spaz but I guess that's why I like writing her. Sorry for the long delay. Ignore all mistakes and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Please Review otherwise you are a schmuck of the highest order!