Tawny stepped out of the black limousine and stared up at the massive establishment that was Westinghouse Manor

Here we go again, she mused.

At the start of her last English Lit class, Dylan informed her that they would be working on the project at his place.

"Why can't we do this at the library?" asked Tawny.

Dylan gave her a smirk as though she asked if he were wearing boxers with little red hearts. "I don't do the library," he responded. "Six PM. I'll have my driver pick you up. Be ready."

That's why she wasn't at all surprised to see another brawny man in a suit hovering by her dormitory door (though she did have to talk a frantic Maddie down from clubbing him with a broom).

"It's alright," she reassured Maddie. "It's only going to be for a couple of weeks."

Maddie pouted, but lowered her broom. "Be careful, Tawny."

--

Tawny hated to admit it, but she could get used to studying in finery. At her old school, whenever her library flooded (which was sadly too often) and the city library was closed, she would have to do her assignments at the local diner, where her mom worked. 

She'd be lying if she said it wasn't distracting to solve algebraic proofs or write essays on the Industrial Revolution while frat boys were hooping and hollering in booths surrounding her. Still, she missed the bottomless coffee refills she could always count on from her mom and the rest of the staff.

These thoughts of home caused Tawny to smile and feel wistful for her old town her old life.

The door to the mansion opened and she was greeted by not Dylan himself, but one of the Dylan-tantes. The girl had her long brown hair in pigtails on each side of her head, and wore thick, wide-rimmed glasses. Like the others, she was wearing the standard uniform: a French Maid outfit.

Tawny was never going to get used to seeing this.

"W-welcome to Westinghouse Manor," stammered the girl. "P-please. This way."

The pigtailed Dylan-tante opened the door and invited Tawny to follow her.

They walked in silence down the cavernous entryway, toward what Tawny presumed would the parlour room where Dylan had tried to bribe her last visit.

Instead, they walked past that room and went toward a long, spiral staircase with steps that seemed to span in the thousands toward the upper levels of the mansion. To the right of the staircase was a golden, gilded elevator that looked perfectly operational.

"Uh, can't we take that, instead?" asked Tawny, pointing to the elevator.

The pigtailed Dylan-tante shook her head furiously, practically hitting herself in the face with her own hair. "I'm sorry, ma'am - the elevator is exclusively for family and esteemed guests of the Westinghouses."

What does that make me? thought Tawny, affronted. But she wouldn't let the slight get to her. "Alright," she said out loud. "Let's take the stairs."

--

It seemed like they ascended for an endless amount of minutes. Tawny was getting breathless, but to her surprise, so was the Dylan-tante. The pigtailed girl actually looked like she was in worse shape than her, if that could be believed. The girl was hugging the banister, practically pulling herself upward for the last hundred steps.

When they finally got to the top, the girl got on all fours and breathed heavily.

"Hey...are you okay?" asked Tawny, concerned.

The girl nodded her head furiously, and fished under her shirt to pull out an inhaler. She took two deep breaths from the inhaler, and her breathing became more calm.

Tawny helped her to her feet.

"Thank you," said the Dylan-tante, refusing to meet her gaze. "This way."

They were on a floor of a massive corridor, flanked on both sides by doorways. At the very end of the corridor was another set of heavyset doors, larger than the rest. Tawny presumed they would lead to Dylan's room.

As they walked down this last stretch, Tawny spoke up. "Okay...I have to ask. I know Dylan is attractive and all, but is debasing yourself really worth trying to get his attention?"

To Tawny's surprise, the girl turned to look at her and actually seemed offended.

"Y-you think I'm doing this for Dylan's attention? N-no. O-of course n-not..."

They were standing front of the massive door at the end of the corridor.

"Then why?" pressed Tawny.

"My d-dad's in jail," explained the girl. "We needed a l-lawyer. And b-bail money. I went to Dylan and he provided. This is the price for his help."

Tawny was nonplussed. "I-I'm...sorry," she said. "I didn't realize..."

Tawny's apology was drowned out by the sound of the Dylan-tante's fist against the door. She realized the conversation was over and the girl had nothing more to say to her.

"Come in!" came a muffled voice on the other side.

The Dylan-tante opened the door and the two girls entered into Dylan's massive chambers. Tawny blinked; just this room alone was bigger than her entire house. 

To their right, Dylan and his best friend Grady were playing one-on-one basketball. Both boys were shirtless and sweaty as they attempted to score on the net attached to the wall. 

Grady got a lay-up and then passed the ball back to Dylan. "Good game, man."

"Yeah,  good game 'cause you kicked my butt," quipped Dylan.

"Ahh, you know how it is," said Grady as he went for a towel to wipe off his sweat.

The Dylan-tante cleared her throat loudly. "Presenting Miss Matthews," she announced.

Grady regarded the newcomers and smirked. "Ayy...it's Tawdry."

"That's TAWNY," corrected Tawny. She really despised that the nickname was catching on.

Grady went to fist-bump his friend. "Alright, I'll see you later man," he said. "Hey Prude - take care of this for me, will ya?"

He then threw the sweaty towel right in the face of the pig-tailed Dylan-tante. Tawny was appalled, but the two boys just laughed as Grady left the room.

"Thanks, Prude - you can see Grady out. I'll take it from here."

Prude ripped the sweaty towel off her face and adjusted her glasses, then bowed and departed in a hurry.

Tawny was so shocked at what she witnessed that it took her a moment to register that she was in Dylan's bedroom while he was half-naked and dripping with sweat.

"Okay," he said, still breathing heavily after a physical game. "Let's go do this project."

Tawny made a face. "You gonna put on a shirt?"

Dylan grabbed a towel to wipe the moisture off his brow. "No," he said. "Let's go."