The Bookworm Next Door: The Expanded and Revised Edition

by Alicia J. Chumney

  She missed Aimee and Will climbing into the treehouse.

  All it took was a stumble from the middle of the stairs while Charlotte Davis was reading from a play. One moment Delilah’s sister was upright and the next she was screaming in pain and clutching an arm. It was enough to jerk Delilah away from the window and her pity party.

  “I can’t be a stage manager with a broken arm!” she cried.

  After loading her into the car, Mr. Davis started to back-up before coming to a sudden stop. A familiar silver car was blocking the drive way.

  Groaning from the back seat, “That’s Aimee’s car,” Delilah supplied.

  Charlotte turned to look at her sister and snarled, “I know you don’t like her, but get that car out of the way.” The end of her sentence came out more as a growl than actual words.

  “I’ll check the treehouse,” their father stated. “David’s probably hiding out.”

  Delilah was right behind him, scanning for David. It would be much easier to spot him in the crowd than it would be to spot the much shorter Aimee. Where David was Aimee should be close behind.

  Mr. Davis’ angry shout was clear. “What do you think you are doing in my treehouse?!?” His voice echoed through the crowd.

  Delilah hurried to his side, phone ready. When she saw Aimee and Will in various stages of undress she quickly snapped a picture and hurried off to find David. There were only a handful of places where he could be hiding.

  Scanning the backyard and the growing number of people turning to look at Aimee and Will leaving the treehouse, Delilah hurried into the house.

  “We told David that nobody should block the driveways! If that car is not moved in five seconds I’m calling the cops!” Mr. Davis yelled.

  David wasn’t in the kitchen. He wasn’t in the living room where Delilah saw more red Solo cups than she could count littered across his mother’s massive bookcase. There was only one place left where he could be hiding.

  Pounding her way upstairs, hearing the shouts of, “All of the bedrooms are locked!” below her, she went to bang her fist on David’s bedroom door. “David Carver, I know you are in here!”

  Opening the door, he was greeted by the photographic evidence that Aimee didn’t love him quite as much as she claimed.

  “We said that nobody could block the driveways. Aimee has her car blocking ours and Charlotte just broke her arm. Fix this!” With a toss of her ponytail, Delilah ran back down the stairs and to her father’s waiting car. “I found David. He’ll take care of it.”

  David stared at the empty doorway where the furious Delilah had stood. It had already been a long night with his finding Aimee naked in his bed, and now he had to deal with this.

  He didn’t really care that Aimee had been with Will in the treehouse; he had suspected that they had been more than just friends for a while. All it did was prove that Aimee was more obsessed with getting what she thought she deserved than with what either of them actually felt about the other.

  Without hesitation he picked up the phone, “Hi, I’d like to report a noise violation. It’s a party and I know that most of the kids will scatter as soon as they see a cop car or two. I’d just like the party to be over; somebody keeps blocking the driveways in the neighborhood and they promised that it wouldn’t happen.”

  Pausing for a moment, he answered a question, “Sure, it’s…” David was tired and he was done. He gave the address and hung up.

  “Hey, Kyle,” David whispered, coming out of his room to warn some of his friends about what was happening. “Can you and Wesley hide the keg in the treehouse? It’s probably empty by now, knowing Will and his friends, so it shouldn’t be too heavy. After that you might want to take off and go home; I heard that somebody called the cops.”

  Kyle, red cup in hand from where he had been pretending to drink all night, just nodded his head before disappearing in the crowd with Wesley on his heels. Wesley had taken the time to study his friend a bit closer.

  Once they were out of ear shot Wesley asked Kyle, “Do you think he called them himself?”

  It didn’t take Kyle a moment to think about his friend’s question. “I wouldn’t put it past him after Aimee blocked the neighbor’s driveway. Remember, it was the one thing David was dead set against happening.”

  A moment later, David found Hannah and Brady sharing a wooden lawn chair, having decided to go to the party at the last minute, and whispering to each other while Kelly studied them. “Hey, guys, you might want to get a move on.”

  Brady stared at him for a long moment. “Somebody blocked a driveway.”

  “Yeah,” was all David said in response.

  Kelly piped up, “It was Aimee wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” he repeated.

  Hannah added, “And she blocked the Davis driveway too, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” David blandly repeated for the last time.

  The trio watched him walk off to warn somebody else before starting their commentary concerning the conversation.

  “Aimee needs to get over David,” Hannah stated while they started to walk towards Brady’s truck.

  Kelly looked at Hannah, “What? Why?” She wanted somebody else’s opinion even though she’d thought the same thing a few times herself.

  Brady spoke up, “It was the way that David looked over at Delilah’s house when Hannah asked if it was their driveway that was blocked. I think he regrets dismissing Delilah like he did.”

  “But he won’t do anything about it,” Hannah concluded.

  Kelly, unaware of several factors thanks to her near constant proximity to Aimee, asked, “Why not?”

  Brady looked at his sister, “Popularity is an addictive drug and David isn’t going to want to alienate the friends he actually likes.” He said staring in the direction David disappeared, “Come on; let’s get out of here before the cops arrive.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Aimee,” Kelly protested as they went to Brady’s car. “She’s a great person.” It sounded weak even to her ears.

  Kelly conveniently left out all of the schemes and the way that Aimee would sometimes use her as a minion. She was so lost in thought about Aimee’s antics that she completely missed the look Brady and Hannah exchanged after hearing her defensive comments.

  Even they had heard the weak protestation Kelly had given in defense of Aimee.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  On Monday morning Aimee paced back and forth in front of David’s locker and waited. She was diligently ignoring the fact that she had been caught hooking up with his best friend at the party and focused all her anger on the cops being called. She had just managed to make it back to the party after having to move her car – finding a new spot was a pain – before having to take off running back to her car while wearing heels! Heels! Ever try running in heels? It’s damn near impossible.

  Delilah noticed the girl stalking her neighbor’s locker and decided to head in the opposite direction. She had already heard the speculation that Aimee insistently pushed about Delilah being the person who had called the cops all because she wasn’t invited to the party.

  Turning abruptly, she ran face first into David’s chest. “Sorry,” she stammered.

  “It’s not a problem,” he smiled as he tried to steady her. “Have a book to return?” Confused as to why Delilah was starting to narrow her eyes, David backed up suddenly. “What did I say?”

  “Have a book to return?” Delilah quoted with a twist of snark mixed in, feeling defensive without just cause. “No, I’m avoiding your girlfriend! Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she hissed before striding hurriedly away.

  Turning as he watched her leave, “I wasn’t… I didn’t… Damn.” Shaking his head, “Foot meet mouth.”

  Turning to face his locker, he saw what Delilah meant and why she was scurrying away in the opposite direction. “Great!”

  “There you are!” Aimee’s voice carried. “Get over here!”

  “Yes, your annoying majesty,
” David mumbled, catching a few people nearby off guard. Giving them a wain smile, he shuffled over to where the self-proclaimed Queen of the School was waiting to dig at him. It was probably about the rumors she had started about Delilah calling the cops.

  “Can you believe that that… that… that… nobody dared call the cops on us?” Aimee started off her rant without a ‘hello’ or ‘good morning.’ Pacing back a forth, “I really should do something to put that bookworm in her place.”

  Releasing a sigh, “Delilah did not call the cops on Saturday,” David stated. “Somebody else called the cops. Anyway, Delilah and her family were at the hospital.” He wondered if he should address the point that she was violating their agreement from freshmen year.

  “Why would somebody do that?” Aimee whined.

  Underage drinking? Loud music? Cars parked in flowerbeds? These were all thoughts that flew through David’s mind at the question that Aimee really didn’t want answered.

  “It’s so unfair,” she complained. “Everybody else is allowed to throw parties.” Aimee could hear the childish note in her voice and chose to ignore it.

  “Some of my neighbors are more uptight than I expected.”

  Maybe if he didn’t think it she wouldn’t bring up….

  “Look, about Will and me…”

  “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we are in a relationship anymore; we haven’t been in one in years as a matter of fact.” David shut the door to his locker, hoping that it was the end of the uncomfortable conversation.

  “But I’d like us to be.”

  How had he never noticed that when Aimee particularly wanted something her voice had a slight nasally whine? David wondered if he could slam the locker door on his head.

  “We just don’t work. Actually, I think you would be better off with Will. You both like the same things…”

  “Will has a crush on Hannah,” Aimee laughed. “Why can’t he see that she’s somebody he can never have?”

  David stared at Aimee, wishing that she got the irony of the situation. When no lightning bolts struck, he grimaced at the thought of what he needed to say.

  “We are not getting back together.” Turning her to face him, “I’m serious. We don’t work. It is not happening. Ever! I’m sorry, but I’m just not interested in you.”

  Letting David leave, Aimee narrowed her eyes as she watched him walk away, “We’ll just have to see about that.”

  Senior Year

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  She realized that something big was about to happen to the life she knew as soon as she saw the expressions on her older sisters’ faces. Samantha, the eldest, wore a smug look on her face as soon as she saw her youngest sister, Delilah, with her head in a book. It was almost always in a book unless they were dragging her out for a run around the neighborhood in the mornings.

  Unsuspectingly, Delilah glanced up from where she was struggling to understand the language in Hawthorne’s The House of Seven Gables. She had wondered if maybe it was just The Scarlet Letter she had trouble fully understanding last year in English class, but no it was just Hawthorne. His writing style could set her head spinning.

  “Uh, hey Sam, what’s with the expression on your face?” Delilah hesitated, not entirely certain if she wanted to know the answer to that question. Maybe it was good news and not some nefarious plan that her sister tended to have whenever she wore that look.

  Maybe she was planning on eloping with her fiancé Jacob and wanted help escaping to Vegas or Gatlinburg. Maybe she was… Maybe I need to get my head out of books, Delilah thought wryly.

  “We…” she started, pointing towards herself and Charlotte, as their middle sister entered the room carrying a gag, “are going shopping.”

  “And you are coming with us,” Charlotte continued, “even if we have to hog tie and gag you.”

  “Are you going to the bookstore?” Delilah asked, knowing that they weren’t going to the bookstore, but it was worth a shot.

  “No,” one of the sisters flatly stated.

  With a smile that Delilah classified as evil, “We are going back to school shopping,” said the other sister.

  Samantha took back over the line of answers with a calmer smile on her face, “For clothes.”

  “For you.” Delilah swore that Charlotte cackled those last two words.

  At least her sisters were standing side by side, making the tennis match of looking back and forth between the two of them easier. Sometimes she would get quite dizzy trying to follow which sister was saying what whenever they decided to gang up on her; as the baby of the family it happened often.

  “I have clothes. I have the school uniform pants and shirts from last year,” Delilah grinned, thinking that she had just gotten out of the now dreaded shopping trip. She hated clothes shopping with a passion; all of that standing around, sorting through racks and shelves, the taking on and off of clothes that either didn’t fit or didn’t look quite right. Nope, she was going to stay safely home and suffer through Hawthorne.

  She would be suffering either way and it was better to suffer with a book than without a book.

  “Have you tried them on lately?” Samantha grinned.

  “Of course not,” Delilah admitted slowly. “They are at home.”

  The girls had agreed to visit their maternal grandmother during their summer break that year. It had been a nice long trip and a very welcome break from having to watch the comings and goings from a certain next door neighbor’s house.

  Samantha, a Psychology Major in her final year of college, grinned. “I know that look.”

  Confused, Delilah looked at her eldest sister, “What look?”

  Charlotte examined her younger sister with a groan, “Not that look.”

  The youngest of the trio repeated, “What look?”

  Suddenly, Delilah found herself surrounded by her sisters. “Delilah, when was the last time you had a date?”

  “I’ve never had a date,” she admitted.

  “Are you still hung up on David?” Charlotte asked, remembering when she saw Delilah glaring at David’s house when he brought his treasured Mustang home for the first time.

  “Of course she is,” Samantha grinned. “Let me tell you something about boys,” she turned her sister to look at her while Charlotte stole the book that Delilah wasn’t paying any attention to; she could keep it if she liked.

  Looking Samantha in the eye, Delilah pointed out, “I do have male friends, you know.”

  “Acquaintances don’t count,” Charlotte huffed. “Besides, you don’t have eyes for anybody but the boy next door.”

  “He’s an idiot,” she stubbornly retorted.

  “He’s a boy,” Samantha pointed out needlessly. “He’s a boy and they are very visual creatures. They’ll go for the good looking food that tastes like crap before they even touch the weird looking stuff that tastes amazing. That’s just what they do. Jacob does it all the time.”

  “How is Jacob,” Delilah asked, hoping to get her sister off of the topic of David and onto the topic of her fiancé.

  “That won’t work,” Samantha scolded.

  “Look,” Charlotte added, turning Delilah to face her, “David picked Aimee because Aimee came in a pretty package and you were covering yourself from head to foot in baggy clothes. We,” she said, pointing towards herself and Samantha, “get why you did that. We understand what he didn’t, but you cannot let Mom being a bitch ruin what is left of your high school experience.”

  Samantha took up the gambit next. “David sees pretty, shiny things. Even his car is pretty and shiny.”

  “And red; don’t forget red,” Charlotte added.

  “He is just like any male and is attracted to the pretty, bright, shiny things and you, our dear, darling, sweet bookworm of a sister are not a bright and shiny thing.” Samantha looked over at what her sister was wearing. Dark jean capris, a loose gray t-shirt covered Delilah’s frame. Her toe nail polish was chipped, finger nails trimmed sho
rt. Hair pulled back in a ponytail. “No, this won’t do at all.”

  Delilah was getting dizzy with her sisters turning her back and forth between the two of them. It was almost difficult to follow the conversation. She recognized the tactic for what it was however: they were ganging up on her even if they had to hog tie and gag her to get her to do what they wanted.

  Then one of them said the one thing she didn’t expect them to say, “Your pants won’t fit because of all of the running you have been doing with us. We have already replaced half of your pants with a size smaller without you even noticing.”

  “I thought they looked different,” Delilah admitted.

  “But,” Charlotte started to point out, “your khaki pants won’t fit right and you’ll end up looking like a bag lady.”

  Samantha added, “And we already know that you were wearing a size too big as it stands.”

  “So…”

  “…we…”

  “…are…”

  “….going…”

  “….shopping.”

  If Delilah was not already dizzy, she was after that. At least they had stopped turning her back and for between the two of them.

  “And you have no say in the matter,” Grandma Denise added in from her perch in the doorway. “And I’m paying for it. No arguments.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Rack after rack, shelf after shelf of clothes taunted Delilah until she was about ready to run screaming from the store. In a way she wished that she had gotten the shopping gene that her sisters apparently had since birth.

  First it was the pants…

  “No, really, I think my pants at home will be perfectly fine,” she protested as Charlotte handed her three pairs of pants in different styles to try on.

  “Only if the school doesn’t care that they’ll keep falling off of you even with a belt. I’m sure all of the guys won’t mind seeing your underwear on a daily basis.” Charlotte paused, “That reminds me...”