The beach boys weren't sure what they should be the most startled by. They almost never had a guest the first day of school, and their guests were never male no matter what the day. And they were certainly never a boy like the one that stood in front of them, with his raggedy clothes and choppy hair, eyes wide as saucers. They all stared at the boy for a second; then he swore, breaking the tension, and the beach boys decided it was safe to act.
The first one to his feet was the boy with the golden hair and perfect body. Aaron disliked him immediately; recent events had showed him the beautiful, especially when they were rich, were not to be trusted. The blonde didn't seem to notice the wary distrust in Aaron's eyes, stepping forward and offering his hand. Taking it was automatic, but Aaron gasped at the feel of lips on the back of his hand. His face flamed up while the golden boy watched, amusement in eyes that were a startling shade of light blue.
"Welcome to the host club," the golden boy said in a smooth, warm voice that held just the slightest hint of an accent Aaron couldn't identify. Aaron tried to snatch his hand back, but it was too late; the other boy reeled him in, the tickle of his breath fluttering against Aaron's ear as he spoke making Aaron turn a whole new shade of red, "My name is Roman, though of course you already know that." He laughed as if he said something silly.
"I didn't, actually," Aaron snapped, trying to push Roman away.
Roman let him have a few inches of space, a knowing smile on hi pretty face. "Ah, so you're not looking for your personal Prince Charming, then," Roman pursed his lips, inspecting Aaron until his smile returned, "I know! With that sour expression you must be looking for someone to brighten you up. Well we have just the thing for you, our very own pranksters."
He spun Aaron away with an elegant twist of his wrist. Aaron stumbled forward, right into the arms of another boy. No, not just one boy, but two, identical with their red-orange hair, deeps green eyes, and mischievous smiles. Aaron groaned; as if the situation wasn't bad enough already, of course he had to run into him.
"Thrown your bag out of any more windows?" the boy whispered in his ear. Aaron flinched away from him, but it served to press him closer to the boy who could only have been the irritating boy's twin.
"Those fools are Benji and Harry, twin prankster extraordinaires. If you're looking for a prankster, or you're into the brotherly love thing, they're perfect for you," Roman affirmed Aaron's suspicions, but his words sounded more like a sales pitch than an introduction.
Aaron struggled against the twins, and they laughed in his ear; the sound was oddly appealing, making Aaron's heart jump sideways and his temperature run hotter- he was lucky to not be aflame. "I'm not looking for-"
"Not looking for a prankster. Shame- they get so little attention," Roman smirked, earning glares from the twins. Still, they didn't try to resist when Roman drew Aaron away from them, "Well then, you seem like the quiet, frail type. Perhaps you're looking for a man who will stand up for you? If that's the case, Marcus here is your man."
Aaron suddenly found himself face to face with a boy who was even more intimidating than Cara's mountains. He wasn't particularly tall, but he was muscular and had strong features. His shaved hair was brown, and his aquamarine eyes stood out starkly in his dark-skinned face- it didn't help soften his stern expression any. "Pleased to meet you," Marcus rumbled.
Aaron immediately tried to back away, hands clenched protectively around the strap of his bag. He desperately searched the room for an escape, and came across something he hadn't expected: the raven-haired boy who had watched Aaron so carefully with those blue-black eyes. The boy still stared at Aaron as if trying to figure out a great mystery; Aaron stared back with wide eyes, trying to telegraph his desperate need for escape.
Roman caught Aaron's stare, and misinterpreted it. "So it's the intellectual type you're into, then. Should've guessed; with that raggedy hair, you're practically screaming for a proper man. Go on, then, Kris will take good care of you."
Roman gave Aaron a light shove, sending him reeling into Kris's arms. The two boys looked at each other for a moment, eyes locked. Frowning, Kris reached out to take Aaron's glasses off, as if they would reveal something vitally important. Once they were removed, Kris searched Aaron's face again face again; realization dawned, and a small smirk curved up his lips as he figured out the puzzle.
It was then that Aaron truly began to panic. "Let me go!" he shouted, shoving at Kris. The other boy didn't budge, but he let go of Aaron. The force of the shove sent the slender boy stumbling back. His ratty sneakers caught in one of the beach towels, turning his ankle beneath him. Aaron fell back as Kris shouted for somebody to catch him.
It was too late, and the loud rip of canvas filled a room that became suddenly silent but for the sound of the ocean- which was coming from the speaker right next to Aaron's head. He had a moment of stillness to try and regain his wits, which the boys had stolen when they whirled him around the room. It didn't last long; the boys were soon at each others' throats.
"I told you to put it somewhere safe!"
"We did!"
"Does it look safe to you?"
"We just used it to hide the speakers! We didn't think some kid would come traipsing into the room and-"
The argument went on while Aaron tried to figure out what had happened. A quick inspection gave him a good guess. When he had tripped, he hadn't looked to see if he would fall on anything. Aaron knew he should have; leave it to his bad luck to add another misfortune to his day. But of course he hadn't looked, and he had fallen head-first into a painting of a beach scene in a gilded fame that had been used to cover up the speakers which filled the room with the ocean sound.
"That painting was made by a famous artist!"
"I know, Roman."
"It was for charity!"
"I know, Roman!"
Aaron sat up carefully, removing the frame from around his neck. Then he reached gentle, probing fingers under his hair, searching for any damage. To his relief, all he found was sand.
"How are we going to replace it?"
Aaron carefully stood up and, since they all seemed embroiled in the argument, snuck towards the door.
"Replace thirty thousand dollars? That's impossible! I doubt our little guest could cover the cost. Right, Aaron?"
Aaron froze in place when Kris spoke his name. He slowly turned to face them, not meeting their eyes, and shuffled his feet.
"I think that's answer enough."
"But there has to be something. He just ripped thirty thousand dollars!" Roman was shouting; though it made Aaron flinch, none of the other boys were affected in the least. They just kept on arguing- all of them, except for one of the twins.
Aaron locked eyes, brown to green, and once more silently begged for help. The boy put his hands on his bare hips, just over the board shorts he was wearing to match the scenery. The sparkle in his green eyes was familiar. It made it obvious the twin he was asking for help was the one that most likely had a bump from his high-speed collision with Aaron's messenger bag. The glint in his eyes told Aaron he had asked the wrong person for help yet again; the twin wasn't going to help any more than Kris had.
"I have an idea," the twin spoke up.
The other boys turned to him even as Aaron desperately motioned for him to stop. But it was too late; the twin had already invested, and he wasn't going back now.
"This better be good," Marcus spoke up, and there was a roughness to the voice that had been like velvet.
"Oh it is," the twin assured him, beaming. He paused a moment, as if to add to the suspense, then gave his answer, "We should make this Aaron kid our pet!"
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