Serial Hottie
Page 30
BONUS MATERIAL
“HOUSE HUNTING”
(Seth’s first glimpse of Ellie)
This was going to be the longest summer of my life. I’d been in Michigan for exactly six hours and twenty-three minutes, and I already knew I hated it here. The air was so thick you could almost drink it, and there were too many trees. Everywhere you looked it was trees. Trees and concrete.
If the hot, humid air and trees weren’t enough to suffocate me, the thought of having to live with a bunch of uncultured, simple, Middle Americans would definitely do it. After driving all around the Detroit metro area today looking at houses, I’ve learned that these people’s idea of sports cars were either Mustangs or Camaros, and fine dining equaled Applebees and Outback Steakhouse. I’d never see a decent California Roll again.
And would it kill them to listen to something other than hip-hop?
Just as we were passing yet another dilapidated strip mall, we turned into a neighborhood called Brookhurst. “I know you’re just going to love this one,” the real estate lady cried from the front seat. “This neighborhood in particular has so much character!”
“What do you think Seth?” My Aunt Janice said, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror.
One word came to mind. Hell. Technically, the map said Hell was about an hour Northwest of here, but still. This was close enough. Of course, I couldn’t exactly say that to my aunt. I was the one who picked this crap city. Seriously, what was I thinking?
I shrugged noncommittally. “It’s not Beverly Hills.”
“But that’s the adventure, right Seth?”
Aunt Janice sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me. I could tell from the look on her face at each of the last five houses we’d looked at that she was just as impressed as I was.
“Okay, here we are!”
That real estate lady was way too perky for her own good. I sort of wanted to stab her. I might have been subconsciously considering it, because as we walked up to the front door of what I prayed would not be my future residence, my knife had somehow found it’s way into my hand and I was flipping it open and closed. Aunt Janice gets on my case when I do that.
I tucked the knife back in the pocket of my jeans and when the real estate lady went to show my aunt the kitchen I wandered up stairs where I wouldn’t hear her voice anymore.
I guessed the bedrooms were decent sized enough, but whoever decorated this place—back in what I could only imagine was like 1972—had a thing for nasty shag carpet, wood paneling, and wallpaper the colors of red, burnt orange, and gold. It was like someone had puked up autumn inside this house.
I’d seen enough. I didn’t care if I was a spoiled, rich brat from Beverly Hills. This whole idea that we experience middle class was bogus.
I was literally heading out of the bedroom with the purpose of marching downstairs to demand that Aunt Janice forget this asinine plan and take me home when, suddenly, someone in the neighborhood decided to disturb the peace with Social Distortion. My curiosity betrayed me. I forgot about my current mission and wandered over to the window.
The music was coming from the house directly across the street and the upstairs window that mirrored the one I was standing in was wide open.
I leaned against the window and waited to see if I could catch a glimpse of the neighbor. Despite the good taste in music, I did not want to be stuck living across the street from some tool. I really didn’t have much tolerance for most people my age. Guys especially.
A heavy backpack flew out the window onto the roof above the garage, and then a tall redhead wearing a sports jersey big enough to drown her followed it.
My breath caught in my lungs. She was gorgeous. But she was the kind of gorgeous that didn’t know what she was. Her long, straight, fiery hair was pulled back into a haphazard ponytail, exposing a long slender neck. I couldn’t see her eyes, but even from all the way across the street I could tell that her full pink lips would be perfect for kissing. I couldn’t really see her figure underneath her baggy clothes but as she settled in against the side of her house, I could tell she had a leanness to her that suggested she was a serious athlete.
She was doing her homework on the roof, blaring rock, and eating what could only be mint-chip ice cream. She had a can of Redi-whip sitting beside her, but she didn’t put it on her ice cream like a normal person. She would take a bite of ice cream and then chase it with whipped cream sprayed directly from the can into her mouth.
I was completely mesmerized by this odd girl, and, oh, how I wanted to be that can of whipped cream. No, I wanted to take that can of whipped cream and…
I jumped when I heard voices come up the stairs behind me. I pretended to be checking out the closet space when Aunt Janice and the real estate lady entered the room. “So…?” Aunt Janice asked.
I could hear the hope in her voice. She knew I wasn’t thrilled to be moving, and that I was even less thrilled with having to downgrade from the posh lifestyle I was accustomed to. The poor woman wanted so desperately for me to find something I liked.
I’d found something I liked, all right. But it wasn’t this crappy house.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “I might be feeling this one.”
Aunt Janice’s eyes lit up. “Okay,” she squeaked, trying to contain her relief. Sometimes it was hard for her to dial back her intensity. “Well, you just take all the time you need. Get a feel for the place. We’ll take a quick walk down the street and check out the neighborhood a bit.”
“Sounds good.”
“Kay.” Aunt Janice jumped forward to wrap me in an excited hug. “Love you, Seth. You’re an amazing kid.”
I tried not to roll my eyes. Or smile. My aunt could be ridiculous sometimes. Always trying to makeup for my childhood. Always wanting to make sure that I knew I had someone who loved me. I’d never admit it to her, but I loved the affection. It didn’t even embarrass me anymore. Love you too, Aunt Janice. “See you in a few minutes.”
After I was sure my aunt and the real estate lady were gone, I went back over to the window. To my relief, the redhead was still sitting there. Her empty bowl of ice cream was set aside now, replaced with a can of Dr. Pepper. Not even diet. I didn’t realize girls could eat ice cream and drink regular soda. Her head bobbed along to the music, and whatever she was scribbling in her notebook looked more like a drawing than any math problem or book report.
A big yellow school bus zipped down the street and stopped a few houses away. A minute later three guys came clomping up the street, laughing obnoxiously. I tensed when I realized they were headed for her house. Was one of these idiots her boyfriend?
“Westleeeeeeeey!” they all three called out in unison.
I relaxed a little. That didn’t seem like boyfriend behavior. Especially not when one of them addressed her next as, “Dude!”
“Dude! Where’ve you been? You totally missed it! Someone messed up Gabby Reese’s face this morning. She’s gonna have a fat shiner for Prom.”
The girl, Westley—I assumed it was a last name—put down her soda. “I didn’t miss it, dillweed. I did it.”
Did what? Messed up that girl’s face?
“You did not!”
My mystery girl shrugged. “She questioned my sexual preference in a highly offensive way, so my fist questioned the proximity of her face in an even more offensive way.”
I felt my eyebrows hit the ceiling. She’d said it so casually, and smiled, not proudly, but like she found the whole ordeal amusing. I’d never seen a girl more relaxed, more natural. So comfortable in her own skin.
“Hence my absence at school today,” she continued to explain. “I got sent home with a three-day suspension.”
One of the guys turned to the first one and held out a hand. “Pay up, loser. I told you that was Westley’s handiwork.”
The first one coughed up his due ante and then said, “Hey, Westley, just what is your sexual preference anyway?”
Everyone laughed, even the girl. Even me. It was really quite something to watch. She was something.
After a minute they all settled down and one of them said, “So what’s up? Are you grounded now or what?”
“Don’t know. It was really weird. When my mom picked me up from school I got a stern talking to, but then the travel agent called about her cruise and she forgot all about punishing me. She just dropped me off at home and went back to work.”
“Sweet. Then get down here and let’s go. It’ll probably be your last chance to get in a game before we leave for the summer because your butt is toast when your mom gets home and realized she forgot to lay down the law.”
I wondered what kind of game they meant and I absolutely loathed them for taking her away. But that’s what they did. She crawled back inside her house, and, without bothering to close her bedroom window, reappeared on her front porch and began lacing up a pair of in-line skates.
Before she could leave, a car came to a screeching halt in her driveway, making her friends scatter like bowling pins. “Ellie!” a petite blond in a short skirt called as she waved goodbye to the carful of girls who’d dropped her off.
Ellie. Her name was Ellie. Ellie Westley. It was such a cutesy name, but I still liked it. It softened her up somehow.
The blond continued to complain loudly as she forced her way past Ellie’s friends to the front door. “Can you please not let your band of losers loiter where people can see them? It’s humiliating. And did you really punch Gabby Reese in the face? If I lose my junior prom court nomination because of you I will seriously kill you.”
I laughed for several reasons. First, because of the look Ellie gave her friends behind her sister’s back. And, second, because, for the life of me, I couldn’t understand how these two girls could possibly be related. Or, maybe, more accurately, how they’d survived this long without killing one another. Living across the street from them would never be boring, that was certain.
“Bite me, Angela,” Ellie said. “I only hit her because she called you a boyfriend-stealing cheerleader wannabe who probably paid people to nominate you for junior prom princess. I was defending your honor. I swear.”
Angela shrieked, believing the lie, and dashed into the house. No doubt to call her girlfriends for moral support and do damage control.
Ellie and her friends didn’t wait until she was gone to fall to the ground laughing. They were still trying to get a hold of themselves when my aunt and the real estate lady came walking back up to the house. They eyed Ellie and her friends curiously, and Ellie watched them right back, the interest evident on her face too.
I could tell Ellie was wondering about who might move in to the house across the street from her, and consequently into her life. Without having to consider it, I knew the answer. Me.
I was going to move into this house. I was going to plunk my bed right down beneath this very window. Then I was going to make Aunt Janice live in this crap-hole city until Ellie was ready to move to California with me.
I went downstairs to meet my aunt, hoping to get a better look at Ellie and maybe see what her reaction to me was, but she was already gone when I got outside, skating away down the street with her friends. She never looked back.
“So, is this the one? Can we stop looking?” Aunt Janice asked when she saw me.
I looked back at the house and then glanced up at Ellie’s open window. This was definitely the one. I nodded. “We have a winner.”
BONUS MATERIAL
CHAPTER ONE FROM SETH’S POV
The day I finally met Ellie started out like every day since I’d moved to Michigan—with me chugging down a glass of wheatgrass juice across the table from my Aunt Janice while she tried yet again to convince me to move my gym equipment into the basement.
“I think it’s already eighty-five degrees outside,” she complained. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather move your stuff into the basement? It’s cooler down there.”
We’d had variations of this conversation six days in a row now. “There’s no real light down there. I’m a southern California boy, born and bred. I need sunshine.” A true statement, though not the reason I did my workouts in the garage. I was hoping Ellie would notice me and come say hi. I wasn’t going to admit that to my aunt, though. “Besides, eighty-five isn’t that hot.”
“It is when you combine it with ninety percent humidity,” Aunt Janice groaned.
She was working on her latest manuscript at the kitchen table because she claimed it was too hot in her office. She had two fans pointing directly at her and a squirt bottle set to mist that she occasionally sprayed herself with. She’d also given up her morning coffee for iced lattes and had converted her lucky writing sweats into a pair of cutoff shorts.
“Why couldn’t you have picked a house with air conditioning?”
I shrugged. “You wanted this move to feel authentic. None of the houses in this neighborhood have air conditioning.”
Aunt Janice took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You’re right,” she said with a sigh. “This insanity was my idea. And it is good for us to experience. We’re very spoiled, you and I, aren’t we?”
“Speak for yourself,” I teased, even though we both knew she was right. “Have you heard me complain even once since we moved here?”
“No.” Aunt Janice smiled affectionately. “You’re such a good kid, Seth. I don’t deserve you. Thank you for coming here with me, and thank you for having a positive attitude.”
Really she was giving me too much credit. If it weren’t for Ellie I’d have done nothing but complain about this hellish state twenty-four, seven. Of course, it’d be better if Ellie would actually talk to me.
An entire week I’d been here, and I don’t think Ellie even realized I existed. Either that, or she didn’t care that I did. That was a depressing thought, so I chose to believe she was just off in her own world. If only I knew how to extend that world to include me.
Normally I’d have been happy to go talk to her first, but somehow I didn’t think that would fly with her. She struck me as the type who had to do things on her own terms. As far as I could tell, if I hit on her I was likely to get punched. I couldn’t go over there and ask her out, no matter how much I wanted to.
Plus, there’s no way I’d even get to her. That sister of hers would glom onto me the second I stepped foot on their porch. I’d seen probably a dozen different guys come and go from their house this week and while Angela flirted with them all, she still watched me like a hungry animal.
I wish Ellie looked at me with the amount of lust her sister does. Hell, I wish she looked at me in general.
The thought of Ellie already being in a relationship crossed my mind. I’d dismissed it after watching her with those guys the first time I saw her, but maybe I was wrong. My hands clench into fists at the thought of Ellie’s boyfriend. I hated the guy more than I’d ever hated anyone, and I didn’t even know if he existed yet.
Aunt Janice pulled me from my nightmarish thoughts with another sigh. “I still worry about you overdoing it. Make sure you drink lots of water. Don’t overheat.”
“I’m not a car, Aunt Janice,” I said.
I kissed the top of her head, then headed outside, praying today would be the day that Ellie and I would finally speak.
It wasn’t. At least, not then. I did my workout as normal with no interruptions. Ellie was nowhere to be seen.
Angela checked the mail twice.
Aunt Janice was right about the heat. No matter how much water I guzzled during my workout I was still dying of thirst. I grabbed another ice-cold bottle from the fridge before hitting the shower. As I drank, I glanced out my bedroom window at the house across the street.
Ellie’s bedroom was directly across from mine. She had
a tendency to leave her window open with the shade all the way up, and that habit, I hate to say, was turning me into some kind of stalker. I’d even broken down and found my binoculars. I couldn’t not look. A person’s room says so much about them, and I needed to know everything I could about Ellie if I was going to make her mine.
I didn’t notice Ellie until I’d emptied my water bottle. She was standing in her window looking right at me. Our gazes met and a rush of adrenaline surged my veins. It was the first time we’d made eye contact. But as quickly as we’d noticed each other, she ducked out of sight.
She scrambled away like she was embarrassed. It was almost like she thought I’d caught her staring at me and not the other way around. Hope sprang inside me. Had I caught her staring? Was it possible she watched me the way I did her?
I waited. I had to know if she’d look again. Come on, Ellie. Look again. Look at me. I willed it to happen. Even just a tiny peek and I’d be able to tell something of her thoughts. I’m extremely good at reading people.
Sure enough, Ellie slowly stepped back into view. She was far enough away that I couldn’t read the expression on her face, but I could tell she was startled to see me still standing there. I could tell she was embarrassed. It was enough. Whether she’d been watching me, or just happened to notice me, she’d taken a minute to check me out. I was sure of it. And judging from the level of discomfort she displayed, she liked what she saw. She may have even had a few dirty thoughts. I hoped so. It’d make us a little more even.
I wasn’t sure how someone could have such an effect on me, but my entire body felt alive with reckless energy just knowing that she was looking at me. That she was thinking about me at that very moment. I liked that—liked it too much, maybe.