Page 2 of Crazy for this Girl

I bob my head and mutter, “Yeah.”

“Sorry to hear that.” He doesn’t sound it. In fact, a smirk lines his sharp-edged face. “But I promise I’ll try to live up to her standards.”

Doubtful.

“Do you bake?” I stare him dead in the eyes when I ask because it’s important. It’s actually life or death.

Mom can’t bake cupcakes, brownies, cakes, pies, or anything requiring an oven to save her life, and I need my daily intake of snacks. She always gets tablespoons mixed up with teaspoons and ends up ruining every dessert she makes (don’t get me started on dinner). Plus, it doesn’t take much for her to get distracted on the phone with one of her friends and forget an ingredient or burn whatever’s cooking to a crisp.

With Miss Litwa, I was set all summer long with baked goods that were edible. Creamy and soft delights of sugary goodness without the charred aftertaste of cruel abandonment.

“Probably,” he replies with a slight wrinkle to his nose. “Don’t you just follow the directions on the back of the box?”

I blink at him.

“I guess I’m learning how to bake this summer.” He doesn’t sound too thrilled about it, but, hey, I didn’t ask him to move next door.

I cross my arms over my chest and sigh.

This is gonna suck.

“Looks like I’m buying some recipe magazines when we go into town.” I see him quirk a semi-unamused brow. “Anything else?”

“No,”—I shake my head—“no offense, but I don’t trust you to do my makeup.”

Cal chuckles. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t trust me either. I’m sure there’s something else I can contribute to make up for that.”

“Can’t wait to see what that could possibly be.”

“I’m feeling a little judged here,” he quips blatantly, but doesn’t hold any animosity in his words. “You not used to making friends?”

“Not in the dark, no.”

“I’d say I’m sorry for crashin’ your night, but,”—he smiles at me, not looking a bit bothered by how put off I am of him right now—“I’ll see you around?”

“Only if you look out your window again.”

His mouth curves wider, and goosebumps line my forearms in warning. “Oh, I plan on it.”

This morning is nothing but epic because Dad made blueberry pancakes, and I’m a sucker for anything breakfast food related.

Key-in favorite kind of pancakes equals blueberry.

After stuffing my face and helping Dad clean up with the dishes, I head outside on our wrap-around porch, taking the perfect opportunity to allow my stomach to settle and dive right into my next Nancy Drew book for the rest of the morning.

I don’t get even three rocks into my rocking chair before I hear my name being bellowed out through the peaceful surroundings like a wild banshee.

“Laynee, hey! Hey, Laynee!”

Flicking my gaze up, I locate that voice and Cal jogging my way across the green grass between our cabins. The sunlight gives me an even better picture of the boy from last night.

An eminently straight nose, crocodile green eyes, and dark hickory-colored hair, Cal is... he’s gorgeous. His jawline is sharp, molding underneath rosy lips that spoke too much last night, but I guess he’s able to get away with it because he’s someone I would take a double-look at if I saw him at school.

The smile he’s currently transmitting my way has me believing that there’s another girl on this porch for God’s sake, and I’m almost tempted to turn around just to make sure. I’ve never had a boy grin at me so excitedly, like he really wanted to see me, before.

I watch as his hair bounces with every stride he takes in his red gym shorts that go past his knees, and the black shirt that outlines his slightly muscular frame now.

He’s not floating in clothes anymore.

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