  I sent him a menacing glare. &quot;You wish, Evans,&quot; I muttered, shoving him aside to hobble up to his level. My ankle was probably sprained and it would be better if I just made it to my bedroom at the earliest.
  I looked at him in the eye. He may have been a bit intimidating at the dinner table when I had my first dinner here, but not anymore. He had changed into a black shirt and grey sweatpants and his hair looked wet and disheveled. It was clear he had recently taken a shower. Oh, so maybe he was in the shower when I rudely barged into his room.
  &quot;Were you the one who spread shampoo all over my bathroom floor?&quot; I asked calmly, waiting for his reply, which he did with a question of his own.
  &quot;Would you believe me if I said no?&quot;
  &quot;No,&quot; I said flatly, finally showing him his locket by dangling it in front of his face. He snatched it from my hand

  Yes, it was a terrible ankle sprain. And me walking after that to track down Ethan only made the sprain ten times worse.
  I groaned as I stared at the beautiful chandelier hanging right on top of me in my room. It was evening and I had had my dinner before everybody else. A doctor was called to attend to me. My mom had visited me twice to ask me about how I was and I replied that I was just fine. Thank God she didn't ask me how I ended up with that ankle sprain yet.
  I had already had my dinner. It was sweet of Samara to bring me my favourites for dinner and ice packs every two hours. The pain was terrible but I was able to walk by myself if I didn't put much weight on my sprained ankle. The doctor had told me to not move around much and my mom had literally ordered me to never get out of bed for this week and if it was urgent, like I need to pee or something then to call Samara to h

  &quot;Chicken fight?&quot;
  &quot;No.&quot;
  &quot;Diving for treasure?&quot;
  &quot;No.&quot;
  &quot;Marco Polo?&quot;
  &quot;How old are we? Eight?&quot;
  &quot;Pool volleyball,&quot; Tristan stated, ignoring Olivia's comment.
  She seemed to consider that.?I wasn't bad at volleyball so I think we could win.
  &quot;Okay,&quot; Olivia finally said.
  &quot;Get ready to lose,&quot; he said, smirking as if he already won the game.
  &quot;No, we won't. We will win and I'll show you!&quot; Olivia seethed.
  Ten minutes later, we all were in the pool. The volleyball net as well as the boundaries were set and Ethan was stood on the far right end of the pool on the opposite side with the rubber volleyball in his hands, as he had won the coin toss and he was to serve first.
  &quot;Ready?&quot; Tristan shouted from the other end of the pool.
  &quot;We were born ready,&quot; Olivia sa

I sent him a menacing glare. &quot;You wish, Evans,&quot; I muttered, shoving him aside to hobble up to his level. My ankle was probably sprained and it would be better if I just made it to my bedroom at the earliest.
  I looked at him in the eye. He may have been a bit intimidating at the dinner table when I had my first dinner here, but not anymore. He had changed into a black shirt and grey sweatpants and his hair looked wet and disheveled. It was clear he had recently taken a shower. Oh, so maybe he was in the shower when I rudely barged into his room.
  &quot;Were you the one who spread shampoo all over my bathroom floor?&quot; I asked calmly, waiting for his reply, which he did with a question of his own.
  &quot;Would you believe me if I said no?&quot;
  &quot;No,&quot; I said flatly, finally showing him his locket by dangling it in front of his face. He snatched it from my hands, muttering a &quot;shit&quot; under his breath.
  &quot;Then yes, it was me. What're you going 

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