Page 6 of Crazy for this Girl

He promptly takes it, drinks half of it, then gives it back. I swear I don’t know where this kid keeps everything because all he does is eat and drink. “Your fault.”

“Call it initiation for moving in.”

“Finish your Coke so we can go eat lunch.” He places two fingers under the bottom of my can and lifts it to my lips to hurry me up. “I’m starving.”

I shoo his hand away, “When aren’t you starving? My God.”

“I’m a growing boy.” He pats his stomach like it explains everything. “I need sustenance every thirty minutes. Plus, my mom said she’d get us pizza.”

I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “There’re burgers and hot dogs everywhere around here. You just pick up whatever you want and eat.”

“We’ll have that later.” He waves a dismissive hand in the air and pushes himself up to stand. “Pizza first.”

“Cal, you’re—”

“Hey, Laynee.” A faux-sweet tone greets up my spine, coated in everything but kindness and cheer.

I should’ve known.

Bootylicious by Destiny’s Child was a clear hint that the Luther twins were present.

Hesitantly, I glimpse over my shoulder again, finding Jessica and Janelle in identical skimpy bikinis, their hazel eyes already pinned on Cal like he’s prey.

This is just like middle school all over again.

Girls claiming their male counterpart with glittery chapstick and will do practically anything short of murder to keep it that way.

And he’s more than likely studying them back the same way, with pure interest, because—well, he’s a freaking boy.

Me, I don’t even rise to my feet to greet them. I’ve had my fair share of Luther twins fun that included cutting the floating dock I was on from the adjoining ones, allowing me and Mr. Ferrari to float away from the rest while we were talking about all the concerts he went to in the 70s. They couldn’t have been more obvious when they were the only ones watching and waving. Then there are the fake conversations they make with me just to make them feel better than me or something.

Mom would tell me to kill them with kindness.

I kill them with silence.

It also doesn’t help that they're beautiful, with dark brown hair and designer clothes. I can only be grateful that they barely have boobs. Janelle hides hers teasingly—if you wanna call it that—with her long and wavy hair. Jessica is so oblivious that hers is pulled back in a ponytail, making sure that the way they’re set up, they could fall out at any time.

Where are their parents? And maybe they should read a Cosmo to help figure out which bathing suit would best suit their body type because it does nothing for their non-existent breast.

“Did you forget our names or something, silly?” Janelle presses, quirking a perfect brow and trying to keep her voice placid, when really, she’s impatient and rude.

“Hey, Janelle,” I mutter, not caring that I said it to her twin, Jessica, instead.

They ignore my mishap and keep their viper study of the boy now standing next to me.

“Who’s your friend?”

Great.

There goes my buddy for the summer that I’ve actually grown accustomed to. He’s only ever on my front porch within minutes of my feet hitting it, and I’m getting used to his stupid quizzes and talks of music. He’s almost better than Miss Litwa. And Janelle and Jessica will have him tied up with all sorts of activities and parties.

“This is Cal.” I take a sip of my soda and stare at a pair of jet skis going by. “He just moved in next door.”

I hear them exchange pleasantries but feel Cal’s inquiring gaze on me.

I’m not going to tell him how crappy they are. I’m hoping he’s smart enough to see and make that decision all on his own.

I was never one to start gossip because who am I? Plus, it’ll look like I’m jealous or something, and I’m not.

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