Hey guys! I know I haven't updated Westfield Academy yet, only because there will be a lot going on in Chapter six and it's starting to turn out to the plot, and I had to babysit. By the end of this week, I will update. Until then, I leave you with the intro to my new mini-story; White Lies told from a Murderous Mind It will be about five chapters, unless you all want me to expand it, which I will be happy to do. So R&R, Fav, follow, all that good stuff!

Thanks!

I

Smoke billowed from a pretty brunette's lips as she sat on a wicker rocking chair staring into space, the warm August breeze blew past the ash of her cigarette, causing it to drop and burn out on the hem of her shirt. Her eyes flickered in annoyance as she brushed hard and fast on the thin material, hoping it wouldn't burn through.

"Motherfucker!" She quipped throwing her now done cancer stick in the rose bush by her feet. Footsteps echoed lightly in her ears as someone stepped out on the wooden patio. She cringed, praying to god it wasn't her father Michael and Constance Langdon, her new "step-mommy." as she and her father put it, making her believe she was no smarter than a four year old. She knew how this would play father would rag on and on about how smoking kills, although Constance does it as well, but nothing is justified because she is a walking contradiction, and her father doesn't care.

"Burn another shirt Lee-lee?" She instantly relaxed meeting the gaze of Tate, his messy blonde hair hanging in his face and that smartass fucking smirk playing on his lips. He takes the empty seat to the right of her pulling out his own cigarette and sparking a lighter.

"Don't call me Lee-lee, Tate. Just because my idiot father married your slut of a mother when we were babies doesn't mean you can call me that anymore."

"You're lucky I was the one that caught you. You know how daddy-dearest feels about his little pride and joy lighting up. God, if he only knew what a little blow whore you've become." Tate snickered, blowing gray smoke into the crisp blue sky.

"Who was the one that supplied it, Tate?" It was true. Tate would sell Leah Cocaine and always has since freshmen year at Westfield. Tate was a frequent user as well. It would give him the alertness he needed for boys' track and Leah the concentration she needed for girls' track. It also didn't hurt that her step brother had the best shit known of in Tinsel town.

Leah was just lucky to have another person to share the same fix as her. Tate was just lucky he had a new buyer. He knew what he was doing, that made everything all the better for both of them.

After all, they were stuck together for a while longer, at least until Michael realized what a whore Constance was. So he took Leah for everything she was worth, knowing soon enough his best buyer would be long gone and he would have to look for a new coke Fein.

Tragic.

"So apparently were getting new neighbors, that's what Constance says anyway." Leah's voice was calm and relaxed. Tate laughed threading his fingers through his curly locks.

"Great. Another new family for mom to degrade and belittle. She does it enough with us as it is. This is just fueling her to be even more of a cunt."

"You think she cares?" Her honey eyes locked with Tate's black ones.

"Nope. Not in the slightest."

"Wonder what they're gonna be like." Leah murmured almost to herself.

"Rich assholes with no morals." Tate shot back.

"Like your mommy?" Leah cooed.

"Ouch. Maybe if there is a husband in the mix, he'll be as clueless as your father and leave his wife for a whore too."

Leah said nothing but the hurt was evident in her eyes. Tate overstepped the imaginary line of boundaries and watched. Waiting for her to lash out and crumble at his feet. He wanted to see her weakness and what really made her break down and cry. He wanted to use her and make her into something she would never want to be.

Instead, all he got was a cocky little smirk as she kicked the leg of the chair out from underneath him, making him drop his hands to her shoulders to steady himself. Her legs draped against his hips so they were eye to eye, inches apart. Her ragged breathing faltered as Tate's hand wound around her throat loosely.

"Off. You know how I feel about this fucked up shit you try to pull. It may fucking work with Kyle Greenwell, but not me." Her long brown hair tickled his fingers as they tightened a little more against her windpipe.

"I like you better. You...react quicker." Leah's hand brushed through Tate's jeans. Feeling him against her thigh.

"Get. Off." his eyes couldn't leave hers. She was bluffing. She had to be.

"Oh, is little Tater-tot aroused by his step-sister? Kinky. I've never fucked family." her voice was cut off by Tate's hand closing hard around her. He flung himself off the chair, allowing it to clatter to the ground. Leah sputtered and laughed loudly as Tate slammed her against the door.

"Harder- I like it a little rough sometimes, Tate." he released her and ran into the house. Leah rubbing the tender spot where his fingers closed around the flesh.

"I always knew you were a little fucking coward. You couldn't kill me if you actually tried. Have fun jerking off alone in your room. Do you know why you got turned on by your own step sister? Because you're weak and have no self control. You fucking good for nothing drug dealer with mommy issues. I wonder how that feels Tate. A little girl, beating you and breaking you down into a worthless shell of what you think of to be a man. My dad is more of a man than you, and he's a lying, cheating BASTARD." her voice was rough and cynical as she rounded the curved stairway up to her room.

"Face it, Tate. I never lose. You will always be my weaker counter-part, in everything you do, I will always be number one, and mommy-dearest will never have her perfect son. I'll make sure of it." Her door slammed shut as Tate slid back the wall that connected them.

Heavy lidded eyes stared at nothing but the blotchy ceiling above him. His mind spun as his arousal was tight against his jeans, he silently groaned and waited for the sick thoughts in his mind to subside. Tate will never give up.

"You'll never win without your coke, Leah. I'll beat you one day without drugs. You'll never call me weak again." His airy light voice spoke at nothing but the empty room he was in. His eyes catching with the mirror in front of him, before he slipped out of consciousness for a few hours.

The last thing he heard was the sound mover's backing up on the other side of the street.

What do you think so far, all? This is not a LeahxTate story, promise. Have to throw in a little sexuality in there just to get the mood right for Leah's character.

Violet is in the next chapter and that's when the plot kicks in!

See you soon, loves!