Chapter 2

I unlocked the door to my house to hear pop music playing in the living room. I smiled widely as I heard my Aunt’s voice. She was singing along to the song; I silently locked the door and dropped my bag, well… it wasn't silent, seeing as the music is fully blasting throughout the house and I’m sure our new neighbors are crying.

I entered the kitchen to see her dancing in her shorts and tank top to Avril Lavigne’s ‘Girlfriend.' She's singing at the top of her lungs while making cookies. I tip-toed behind her and whispered in her ear, ‘boo.’ I’m guessing she heard it. She jumped into the air, spinning around and holding her chest as I laughed loudly, smirking as she glared at me and then smiled.

“You’re home!” She said, hugging me tightly. I nodded, hugging her back.

“How was the flight?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I shed my jacket after we departed from our hugs. She sighed, obviously annoyed.

“It was terrible! Do you know how hard it is to find a last minute flight on a Friday? I’m sorry that you were alone Wednesday and yesterday. I had to work. On a lighter note; how was school?” She asked, handing me a mixer as she sat herself on the counter and I pulled up a stool. Sitting on the counter would get me grounded for life if my parents were here. Besides… we eat there. Note to self: Disinfect the counter tops.

“It was… odd.” I said, nodding as she turned off the music. She looked at me with a confused expression. She raised an eyebrow, urging me to continue.

“Well, there’s this guy-.” I began to say but she cut me off, squealing in excitement. She smiled widely, giggling excitedly.

“For all you know, I could’ve ended that sentence with ‘that wants to kill me.’” I stated, crossing my arms and giving her a flat look.

"Sorry.” She apologized, smiling sheepishly. “I’m just excited to hear about guys again! I remember High School.” She said, sighing before looking at me again.

“Well, I don’t even know this guy.” I said, shrugging. “But I catch him staring at me and looking at me, but not that ‘I like you’ looking at me, it’s that ‘I’m a creep’ looking at you.” 

"Well, who is he?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows, attempting to decipher the mystery that is Adrian Easton.

“He’s Adrian Easton.” I stated, earning another encouraging glance from her. “And from what I hear from Jessie, is that he is, well, Adrian Easton. But he’s a bad boy; he seems like a trouble maker- like he’s bad news.” I replied, biting my lip. Instead of giving a disapproving look towards me like I’d expected her to do; she smirked and wriggled her eyebrows.

“So… you got a thing for bad boys?” She asked, smirking. I sighed, rolling my eyes and shaking my head.

“No, I don’t. He’s intimidating. He honestly scares me.” I whispered, not liking the fact of having to admit something like that. The last thing I wanted to be labeled as was a punk, seeing as I already categorize under nerd, loser, loner and geek.

“Is he hot?” My 28 year old Aunt asked, acting as if she’s 17. I smirked, rolling my eyes but bit my lip as I nodded. A blush formed on my cheeks as she giggled and pointed at me.

“On a scale of one to ten, how hot is he?” She asked me. She had her arms crossed over her chest.

“10,” I said, nodding. “He’s mysterious and it’s so attractive but it’s so scary at the same time, you know? I mean, he doesn’t look like he’s a serial killer but serial killers don’t always give off that ‘Yo, I have bodies in my basement’ look either.” I admitted.

“Well, I hardly doubt he’s a serial killer in junior year. That wouldn’t look too good on his college applications. By the way, are you hungry?” She asked, staring grumpily at the stove. She was never really a good cook, one heck of a baker, but never an amazing cook.

“Yeah, somewhat, but if you’re cooking- I’m completely full.” I joked.

“You should get ready; we’re going out to dinner.” She said, smiling as she danced around the kitchen.

“When? Is it a formal restaurant or a burger joint?” I asked with an eyebrow raised. The last time I went to a burger joint with someone other than Jessie was the last time I saw Aunt Cherry.

"It’s not formal but don’t go in sweatpants! And I definitely want to get there before 7. All of them are crowded with teenagers with intentions of getting drunk.” She said, wrinkling her nose.

I looked at the clock, it was only four. I might as well get ready now, so I wouldn’t fall asleep and have 10 minutes to get ready. I'm extremely tired. I made my way up the stairs.

After showering and wrapping my hair tightly under a towel, I stood in front of my closet. Remembering the fact that the restaurant isn’t formal so I thumbed through my closet. There was no way I was wearing a skirt, in one of my mother’s many attempts at transforming me into a girly girl she bought me several skirts and dresses, which I separate from my other clothes with a thin coat hanger. Besides, it’s not like it’s so hot that I can’t wear jeans. After putting on a tank top and sliding into a pair of jeans, much to my preference, I heard my cell phone buzzing in my drawer.

‘Can you help me with my homework? Come over, please. It’ll only take half an hour, I promise. I can’t go to a party tonight if I don’t do it. Please.' It was a text from none other than Jessie. I sighed loudly, replying quickly.

‘Yeah, give me a half hour.’ I sent her, earning a happy reply but instead of responding, I went back to my closet.

After 10 minutes of searching, I decided on a red and black flannel shirt. Who can go wrong with flannel? My socks went next, the colorful socks made me smile as I slid on my red converses. I unwrapped the towel that sat on my head and shook out my dry, dirty blonde hair, satisfied. I brushed it a few times and put on a red beanie to avoid it frizzing in the wind.

“Auntie, I’m leaving!” I called out as I neared the front door, grabbing my backpack that remained beside the door.

“Where to?” She asked, appearing in the doorway of the living room.

“Jessie’s, she needs help with her homework or she can’t go to a party.” I simply replied.

“You have your phone?” She asked. I nodded.

“Be home before 7! I’m not going out to a teenager packed restaurant! If you’re late, you starve!” She urged. I nodded, laughing lightly as I began heading outside swirling my keys around on my finger.
__

“But why does the ‘x’ go there?” Jessie asked, slamming her index finger across the paper. I sighed, before replying. We’d gone over this at least 10 times and she was being stubborn. It felt like I’d been trying to teach her for hours and I’m starting to wonder if I have been teaching her for hours. It sure feels like it.

“Whatever you do to one side, you do to the other. Now stop complaining or else you’ll never finish your homework and I’ll be late to dinner and you’ll have to sit at home.” I stated, pushing her math homework to the side. We moved onto the next subject and eventually, we finished.

“I have no time to get ready!” Jessie cried, tossing her books into her backpack. I stared at her as she immediately jumped up, staring at her phone screen like it was the most important thing in the world.

 “What time is it?” I questioned, slowly standing up, struggling somewhat as I wiped off my pants. I fixed my beanie on my head and listened as Jessie answered my question.

“7:13.” She answered, rushing towards her closet. I felt my eyes bulge out of my head. I was supposed to be home before seven! I began to walk towards her door, tossing a quick ‘goodbye' and 'have a nice time at the party’ over my shoulder before I darted towards my car.

I barged into my house, tossing my keys in the tray as I heard the television from the living room. I quickly entered the living room to see my Aunt standing there with a playful disapproving look on her face. She made a ‘tsking’ sound, shaking her finger as she rose from the couch and approached me. I stood in the doorway.

“You’re late,” My Aunt spoke in a singsong voice.

“I didn’t mean to be late! I’m hungry! Let’s go!” I cheered, trying to grab her arm but she darted away like a snake.

“I told you, if you’re not back by 7, you starve!” She called. Although her disapproving and scolding tone, I noticed that she was dressed up. I smiled at her and she laughed.

"Since you made me wait on the couch, you’re ordering,” She called to me as we walked toward the front door. I sighed loudly. “Besides, they’re your age. You’ll fit right in.” She stated. I grumbled as I approached the car, irritated with her and Jessie's  stubbornness.

“What do you want?” I asked as we entered the pizza place, my eyes glazing over the menu. It was taking me all of my will-power to stop myself from cutting everyone and dolphin diving into the kitchen and devouring all of the food. She looked at the menu, squinting from our spot beside the doorway- out of the way of the oncoming teenage traffic.

“I want a slice of pepperoni and mushroom pizza and a Pepsi.” She said, nodding in finality as she turned and faced me, extending money that I shoved away. She gave me a look that said, ‘are you sure,’ and I just nodded, rolling my eyes. I needed to waste my parent’s money like an irresponsible teenager somehow, right? Why not waste it by buying pizza?

Approaching the long line of people, I started thinking about what I was going to order. As I was walking, I stopped paying attention and bumping into someone’s back. I realized I arrived at the line and went as far as to bump into the person in front of me.

Ready to apologize, I watched as the person slowly turned around. I expected it to be an early 20 year old man, possibly ordering pizza for his girlfriend and himself. Why had I made this assumption? Because his back was muscular, and I’m not sure a teenage boy was capable of earning that through days of physical work in a gym.

But instead, I’m faced with a familiar boy with greenish blue eyes standing in front of me, intensely staring at me, filling me with discomfort. I let out a low breath as I took a step backwards, awkwardly maintaining eye contact in silence. I decided to be the bigger person and speak but he beat me to it; I’d taken notice that this was something he’d done before during our first… encounter.

“Are you stalking me?” He questioned, baffling me. A smirk slowly found its way onto his face as he stood, staring down at me.

His eyes looked more green than blue now, and I noticed that they looked green when he was amused and happy and blue when he was neutral, or at least I think. I hadn’t seen him mad yet and I’m sure I don’t want to. As I remembered the question I was asked, my irritation began to take place.

Me? Stalking him? Sure, he’s attractive but I wouldn’t dare leave my house in order to find someone who is even considered higher than me on the popular wheel, which is everyone. Plus, I’m out with my Aunt who can’t keep her mouth shut and will most likely approach me and loudly ask me if that was the ‘cute, mysterious boy’ just to embarrass me.

“No, I’m not. Why would I even do that? Can’t I come here to order pizza?” I asked, raising an irritated eyebrow. He stared at me for a second before blinking, making a smile appear on his gorgeous face. Stop, Fiona. Don’t do this to yourself.

“So you can talk proper English?” He smirked, tilting his head sideways. The simple action portrayed him as innocent and adorable when in fact, he was the total opposite. It’s not that he wasn’t adorable; it’s just that if I ever called him that aloud- let’s just say I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.

Instead of swooning and cooing at the adorableness of his actions, I gritted my teeth. He’d probably body slam me onto the floor. I’m not sure how someone so cute can be so annoying, though. I barely know this guy and I already know that we aren’t on good terms and most likely will never be. He knows he’s annoying me, and he’s obviously enjoying it. I can tell by the constant smirk he’s been sporting.

“Are you going to move up or not?” I asked, pursing my lips and narrowing my eyes. He just smiled before stepping up to the counter, eyes grazing the menu. He began listing several foods, taking me by surprise. Sure he wasn’t here alone, but how much food could a group of people eat? He was ordering enough food to serve a small village in Uganda for a good year or two.

I impatiently waited behind him, fidgeting slightly as he began listing the drinks. I carelessly listened, counting the amount of drinks he ordered. He ordered 5 drinks, so that must mean that there are 5 people that he’s with.

I heard someone behind me impatiently groan and I smirked as he shot a glare behind him and it turned into a wink quickly. Obviously, it was a girl... unless he played for the same team as me. I rolled my eyes and he caught my eye.

“No need to be jealous.” He stated, smirking as I glared at him. Jealous? That is the last thing I’ll ever be! He continued smirking as we heard the clanging and clashing of pots and pans in the kitchen.

“I’m not jealous.” I stated, giving him an annoyed look. He just shook his head, rolling his eyes. When his load of food finally arrived, he took the tray in his hands.

“I hope they spit in it.” I mutter under my breath, walking up to the counter. He turned around, with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.

“No, you don’t. You’d be jealous of the girl whose spit I’d ingest.” He stated, turning away while laughing. I gritted my teeth but ordered anyway.

“Who was that?” Aunt Cherry asked me, pulling me out of my reverie as I nibbled on my food.

“Who?” I decided to play stupid and pretend as if I had no clue who she was talking about. She gave me a flat look, sighing loudly.

“That boy you were talking to in line.” She told me as if I was stupid; well, I was pretending to be.

“Oh, him? He’s just some kid from school; no one important.” I waved, eyes grazing over the crowd that’s lessened over the last few minutes.

As my eyes found the familiar ones that were boring holes into my face as I slowly chewed the bite of pizza I had in my mouth. The same mystified and intense look was in his eyes as they stared into mine and it made me begin to wonder just how long he was looking at me.

My Aunt seemed to notice that I wasn’t paying my full attention to her, or any attention at all and her gaze trailed from mine to his. She waved her hand in front of my face annoyingly. I stared back at my Aunt who gave me another flat look.

“’Oh him? He’s just some kid from school; no one important.’ Yeah, right. Who is he?” She mocked me, rolling her eyes at my obvious lie. I refused to tell her anything, so I continued eating my pizza.

“Is that the Adrian boy?” She asked me, stupefying me. I expected her to forget or at least not put two and two together.

“Tell me or I’ll ask him.” She said, eyes narrowing her eyes threateningly. She was getting ready to turn around to face Adrian who was just a few empty booths away from us. Instead, I kicked her shin and she howled in pain. I know, I know. It’s disrespectful to kick my Aunt, or hit her at all. She is my Aunt, and an elder.

“Ow! That is him, isn’t it?” She asked, smiling excitedly as her face lay across the table. She was holding her shin under the table while I shushed her quickly and put a finger to my lips.

“Lower your voice.” I hissed, aggravated. She nodded, sitting up slowly before leaning in.

“So that’s him?” She asked, eyes widened like a little school girl.

“Would I have reacted like that if that wasn't him? Yes, that is him.” I nodded. She slowly looked back, his eyes turning from me to her. He eyed her with interest, raking his eyes down her face before a smile slowly crossed his lips. He held up a hand towards his friends before he stood up and walked began the short journey towards our table.

“Oh my gosh, abort mission! Abort mission!” I whispered, reaching towards my food in order to create a quick getaway. My Aunt smacked my hands away from the food, gritting her teeth and glaring at me before Adrian arrived at our booth.

“Hello again, Fi-Fi.” He smirked, winking at me. I glared at him, biting the inside of my mouth to hold back from screaming at him. I don’t want to be that person.

“It’s Fiona, but I wouldn’t expect you to know that, Easton.” I sneered, biting a fry. The reasoning for my sudden hatred for this guy? One day- he stares at me like a creep and the next, he’s harassing me. He pushed me over slightly and slid into the spot beside me as I cringed into the corner, but he ignored this movement.

“So Fi-Fi, are you going to introduce me to your sister?” He asked, staring at my Aunt questioningly before he glared at me for a second. That took me by surprise.

“My name is Fiona.” I stated, crossing my arms. He gave me a flat look.

“Fine, Fiona. Can you introduce me to your friend?” He asked, gritting his teeth. I turned to look at Aunt Cherry who looked amused as she sat back with a smirk on her face.

"Fine. Aunt Cherry, this is Easton, Easton, this is Aunt Cherry.” I stated, pointing to each of them with an annoyed look on my face.

“Cherry, like the fruit.” Easton stated, taking my Aunt’s hand in his own, lifting it to his lips and kissing it. I wanted to vomit but instead, held back and decided to go with the sarcastic comment.

“'Cherry, like the fruit.' No, like the cardboard box.” I mocked him, taking a bite out of my pizza as he glared at me.

“She introduced me wrong. I’m actually Adrian, Adrian Easton. And, did she say Aunt?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he stared at my Aunt Cherry.

“Yes, I’m her Aunt. I’m 28.” My Aunt said, blinking as Adrian furrowed his eyebrows. I howled in laughter.

“How embarrassed are you right now? You hit on a 30 year old!” I choked out through gasps of air. He glared at me while my Aunt stated that she was only 28.

He took my pizza and pushed it onto my lap, so the sauce and cheese made a mess on my jeans. I stared at it, frowning deeply. My pizza…

“Your poor jeans.” He mocked.

“I don’t care about the jeans. I care about my pizza.” I said, grabbing a napkin. He looked annoyed. He obviously wasn’t satisfied with my reaction. Unlike most girls who’d burst out crying and screaming about their pair of designer jeans being ruined, I was close to tears because of my pizza.

“You don’t care about your jeans?” He asked, a flat look on his face.

“No, I don’t.” I stated, peeling the pizza off of my jeans and putting it back onto the plate. I wiped hastily at the jeans with the napkin.

“You’re like a guy.” He stated. I just shrugged carelessly. I looked up at my Aunt.

"Can you please go buy me another slice of pizza?” I asked, handing her a five dollar bill. She nodded, quickly walking by Adrian.

“Why are you getting another slice of pizza? The party’s starting soon, you'll be more than fashionably late if you have to go home and change and then eat, too.” He said, looking at his phone quickly before stuffing it back into his pocket. He obviously wasn’t comfortable. He shouldn’t be! He just flipped my pizza onto my lap and then tries to make casual conversation?

“I’m not going to the party.” I hissed, my attitude evident. He looked surprised before the sides of his mouth quirked up slightly but stopped as I glared at him.

“Why not?” He asked with an eyebrow raised as he leaned casually against the wall of the booth. I gave him a flat look. He obviously didn’t need to keep talking to me. I gritted my teeth, blowing out a slow breath. He looked amused.

“I wasn’t invited.” I retorted, exhaling once more.

“Well… do you want to go?” He asked me.

I took a second to think about this. Honestly, yes I did. I wanted to undermine my parents for the longest time since I could remember, ever since they decided to make me sign up for several extracurricular activities, drop certain friends, and study for inhumane hours at a time. They want to control my life and I don’t want that. I don’t think any teenager does.

“No.” I stated simply but venomously. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him to know that I want something that I can’t have.

I didn’t want him to know that I craved acceptance, more friendships and a better social life. I wish I was athletic; I’d make friends on my sports teams. Or that I was beautiful, attractive people are popular, right? I’m guessing he saw the indecisiveness in my face as I glared at him.

“Are you sure?” He asked, smirking slightly. He was waiting for me to cave in, practically counting the seconds until I nod my head and stand up, leaving my Aunt Cherry to go home alone. But on the contrary, I glared at him.

“I said ‘No.’ Didn't your mother teach you how to take 'no' for an answer? I don’t want to go. And if I did, I sure wouldn’t go with you.” I spat. He looked surprised as he nodded once, smirk gone and he stood up straighter before nodding again and looking at me.

“Well, have fun doing whatever it is you nerds do.” He retorted, attitude as clear as mine. Instead of being offended at the term ‘nerd,’ I just rolled my eyes and focused on cleaning my jeans. Aunt Cherry came over towards me and smiled as Easton walked away.

Whatever just happened was weird, it wasn’t an argument. An argument happens between friends, not complete strangers. That was more like a battle to see where we stand now, and I’m absolutely sure that it isn’t on good terms. My Aunt was completely oblivious to the previous incident. And boy, don’t I wish I was?