I turned onto my side, pulling my blankets closer to my face with a sigh. It’s so cold in here. My eyes fell on the pool of sunlight forming on my floor, near my window. Not even eight yet…it’s too early. Too cold and too early. There was a loud thud as my door flung open, the knob nearly breaking a hole in the wall as it slammed against it.
I shot upright when my little brother, Zach, ran in to my room with underwear on his head.
“Zach!” He jumped onto my bed and slapped a fat, wet kiss on my cheek. “Zach, it’s too early for you to be in here.” He laughed at me and bounced up and down a few times.
“Get up already, Mo! I want to play!” I sighed heavily, forcing a smile.
“Maybe later. I need more sleep.” He gave me another sloppy peck on the cheek before leaving my room just as loud as he had come in, slamming my door shut. I flopped back down on my bed and pulled the blankets over my face.
‘Great,’ I thought, ‘now I won’t be able to go back to sleep.’ My eyebrows pushed together and I threw the blankets back. I blew a stray strand of my dyed-red hair out of my face as I slowly climbed out of bed. Today was going to be a long one. My feet dragged on the short, off-white carpet of my bedroom as I made my way over to my dresser, to look at myself in the mirror.
What I saw in the reflection was the same thing I saw every single day of my life. My hair was sticking out in every direction and then some, sleeping tends to do that to my hair; I saw the same boring, lifeless brown eyes that asked the question, “Are you sure you got enough sleep last night?”.
My name is Molly DeMeo. I spent most of my childhood being dragged from place to place by my mom, after my dad walked out on us of course. It wasn’t until recently that my mom decided to stop moving around. She told me it was too much for Zach to handle, never mind how I had felt at his age being torn from my friends every couple of months.
The town she found to be our permanent residence was your typical small town. Everyone seemed to know each other and had dinner with their neighbors every Tuesday night. It was a bit like watching a TV show that was set in the suburbs. Pretty freaky. We’d been living here for about six months now, the longest place since I can remember. I tried not to get too attached to anything around this place, since I figured we wouldn’t really stay all that long.
So the fact that I actually managed to make acquaintances, even friends, was a bit of a shock to me. Even my mom had started to get to know the people around our block-she never did stuff like that. Part of me wanted to believe her when she said this was going to be our home for a while, but with her track record it was difficult to do that.
* * *
While I was eating my breakfast, a not-so-tasty Pop Tart, my mom came into the kitchen with the phone stuck to her ear. Between bites, I asked her, “Who’s on the phone?” She held up her index finger to let me know she would tell me in a minute. I settled myself in, against the counter and waited for her to finish up her conversation.
She said bye to whoever it was and hung up the phone with a sigh.
“So,” I raised one of my eyebrows quizzically, “what’s the scoop?”
“Oh, nothing important. It was just Janie from the neighborhood committee…” I tuned her out after that. The neighborhood committee stories were never very interesting. I think that she noticed I wasn’t actually listening to what she was saying though. She pulled her trademark, hands on her hips, eyebrow raised, lips turned down in a frown, move that gave it away. I could try for the rest of my life to mimic that stance, but would never be able to get it right.
“What? I’m listening, I swear.” I took another bite of my Pop Tart and stared back at her.
“I know when you are tuning me out, Molly.” I flicked my eyebrows up momentarily and glanced around the kitchen to avoid her gaze. “Anyway,” she set the phone down on the counter next to me and headed out of the kitchen. “Casey called while I was on the phone, you might want to call her back.” She smiled at me before walking away.
I shoved the rest of my pastry into my mouth and tried to eat it as quickly as I could. Picking up the phone, I dialed Casey’s number and held the phone to my ear. I hadn’t quiet finished eating when she picked up though, “Hey, Case, I’ve got food in my mouth. What’s up?”
“Molly, you will not believe what just happened.” Casey was one of my best friends, one of my only friends really. I only had her and my other bestie, Kristi. We’d all met after Kristi had bumped into me, causing me to accidentally knock into Casey during lunch. I ended up spilling soda all over Casey and Kristi got pudding in my hair. We’d been friends ever since.
“What? No way.” The conversation lasted for a while. School let out for fall break a week ago, and none of us had spoken to each other since then. Casey just got back from a trip to see relatives-where apparently her cousin had tried to make a move on her. Granted, he was only about five, but still. Kristi and her family had gone out of town to go skiing or something and neither of us had heard anything from her. I was stuck at home though, with my mom.
Speaking of which, she showed back up half way through Casey’s stories and told me to wrap it up.
* * *
My feet crunched the fallen array of leaves and twigs that carpeted the sidewalk as I walked along to the neighbors house. It was already getting dark outside, at five, and the extreme colds of Autumn had set in. When I let out a sigh, a cloud of white appeared in the cold air, reminding me that I was still living. ‘I don’t understand,’ The voice of my thoughts echoed in my head, ‘why my mother seems to think I like running next door to ask for things.’ I huffed one last irritated breath before going up the steps of the neighbor’s porch to knock on his door. I wouldn’t be so annoyed with having to come over here almost every day if the guy who lived here didn’t totally flirt with me. He doesn’t even try to hide it, he just does it.
The door swung open a few seconds after I saw the blinds on the window next to the door wiggle a little. Carson, the guy who inhabited this house, grinned at me from his doorway. His baby blue eyes ran themselves over my face quickly. He’s not a bad looking guy, it’s just the way he acts that disgusts me. One of his hands reached up and scratched idly at his jaw line.
“Hey kitten.” I rolled my eyes, to show him how unamused I was at his stupid nickname for me. “Did you finally realize how much you want me and came all the way over here to tell me?”
“Oh Carson,” I made sure to douse my voice with sarcasm, just for him, “you’re the one I’ve been searching for my entire life.” His grin faded slightly, but he laughed nonetheless. “My mom sent me over again.”
His eyes showed how disappointed he was when he asked me what I needed. “My mom needs another log for the fireplace.” I thought I heard him sigh, so I quickly added, “I keep telling her that they sell them in packs at the grocery store, and she should just get them there instead of bothering you about it, but she won’t listen.” His patented grin crept back onto his face and sat there for a moment.
“It’s all right, kitten. I love opening my door to find you waiting for me to let you in out of the cold.” I rolled my eyes as he took a step aside to let me inside. I reluctantly moved my body through his doorway, sliding past him. “It’s nice to know that you felt the need to get dressed up to come see me.” He grinned at what I was wearing. “It really brings out your eyes.”
I glanced down at the t-shirt and cut off sweats I was wearing, and scoffed, “I only had to walk next door. There really isn’t a point in overdressing for this.” I waved my hand around in front of me to show him I was talking about his house. He flashed me a smile and walked across the room, I followed. Visits like these were almost routine to me by now. First, there would be stupid chit chat until he finally let me in; He’d have me sit at the counter, where he always had a chair set out; I’d watch him as he pulled a jacket on and exited out the back door to get a log or two, then he’d come back and I would leave.
This visit wasn’t much different, only this time I seemed to pay more attention to what he was doing, and I didn’t sit. I waited by the back door. My eyes followed his every movement as he trudged across his lawn to the shed on the far right of his yard. I had always sort of wondered in the back of my mind why Carson was single. I mean, besides the fact that he was a total weirdo, he was good looking. I found it hard to believe that he didn’t just have girls lining up at his door.
A gust of wind blew his sandy hair slightly and I saw him pull his jacket closer to him. It took me a moment to notice that I was completely focused on nothing but Carson, and another moment to realize that my cheeks were burning red. I shook my head frantically and turned my back to the door.
‘I was not just gawking at Carson! There’s no way! I must be tired or something.’ I faced the door again, eying Carson, who was now on his way back to the house. Okay, so he was kind of really attractive. If he wouldn’t act like such a cheese ball every time we saw each other, there might even be a chance that-I stopped my thoughts and shook my head once more. This was so stupid.
My cheeks flushed with blood again when I saw him grin. He must have spotted me staring, because he tried to balance the log on the palm of his hand. He had it going for about two seconds, but then it fell and landed on his foot. I snickered, even through the door I could hear him cursing at the log as he picked it back up. I stepped back a little as he came back into the house.
“So smooth,” I joked.
Carson grumbled something to himself and started to hand me the log. I reached out for it, but right as I was going to take it from him, he pulled it up over his head. I tried to grab it, but Carson had the advantage of being about four inches taller than me.
“C’mon Carson, I have to hurry.” I swatted at the air, trying to get him to hand it over.
“Not yet. First you have to do something.” In an attempt to make myself taller, I raised myself up on my toes and made a grab at the log once more.
“What? What do I have to do?” I dropped back down to my height and pursed my lips. He lowered the log, holding it just out of reach.
“All you have to do is purr for me.” I growled in annoyance and reached for the log again. He leaned in closer to me, our noses almost touching, and whispered, “Purr for me, kitten.”
I stumbled backwards a few inches and frowned. “Carson, I’m not going to purr for you. Just give me the log, I have to go. My mom will get mad at me.” He hid the log behind his back and smiled at me.
“I’ll come with you then.” I shook my head and pressed my thumb and forefinger to the bridge of my nose.
“Why would that help?”
“I’ll just tell her why you were so long.” Before I could say anything in protest, he was already half way to the front door.
“Carson, wait! I don’t need you to talk to my mom!” I hurried after him.
҉* * *
I dragged my feet on my way through the front door, Carson was right behind me, following me so close that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.
“Molly? Is that you, hun?” I grunted in approval and walked reluctantly into the living room. My mom was perched on the couch in front of the fireplace. “Why were you over there for so long?” I opened my mouth to answer her myself, but Carson started first.
“It was my fault, Ms. DeMeo. Molly was held up with talking to me.” He sidled around me, taking giant steps towards my mom. I tuned their conversation, mindless babble, out and picked at the chipping green nail polish on my finger nails.
I managed to hear my mom invite Carson to stay for dinner. My mouth turned down in a scowl at the idea. My mom was always doing things like that. I assumed it was because Carson was stuck in his house all alone. Which I always found weird, because he was so young-most people in their early twenties at least roomed with someone. I think he had mentioned something once about a dead uncle leaving it too him in his will, but I can’t remember. Carson saw my expression and politely refused my mom’s offer. After what felt like days of talking, my mom asked me to show him the door, like he didn’t already know where it was.
I walked Carson to the front door and forced a smile, “Good-bye, Carson.”
“See ya later, kitten.” I made a face to show how much I despised that nickname, which made him laugh out loud. “You know,” He stood in the doorway, so I couldn’t just shut the door on him, “you really should try smiling a little more. You have a gorgeous smile.” With that, he took a few steps back and winked at me.
I pursed my lips and slammed the door. ‘Ugh, what is his deal?’
