Page 6 of Don't Love the Boy Next Door
“Oh no!” I gasp as I sit forward in my chair, knocking the cereal bowl away and causing some milk to slosh onto the table. “No,” I moan as I cover my face. I have band practice this afternoon.
The memory of last night conquers my mind again. Eric’s lips closing over mine, me running from him. Him rushing to helpme as I lay sprawled on the steps. Everyone staring at me. Miss Diaz calling after me.
“Get out,” I moan again. Then I notice the mess on the table and groan again. Why do I feel like my life is falling apart?
I wish my mom were here. Maybe she’d be able to tell me why I freaked out like that. Or she’d at least make me feel better about the whole thing. Instead, I’m alone in my house with a puddle of milk on the table and my best friend blowing up my phone because I’m too distracted to respond to her texts.
How on Earth am I going to face him at band practice?
The next text Phoenix sends me sounds louder than the others, like she’s yelling at me. I sweep my phone off the table.
Phoenix: I think I’ll take a break from the vlogging and streaming and maybe record a gameplay of that super hard strategy game people swear is impossible. But I’m so lazy, I just want to stay in pajamas and watch TV and eat popcorn and ice cream. Hey, want me to come over and we can binge-watch something on Netflix?
Phoenix: And here I thought you’d jump for joy at the suggestion. But all I’m hearing are crickets.
Phoenix. I’m still hearing crickets.
Phoenix: I hope my boring texts haven’t sent you to the morgue…
Phoenix: Ugh, Katie? Did your phone die?
Phoenix: Okay, now you’re starting to scare me a little. You okay? You were acting a little odd yesterday. Did something happen at rehearsal? Hello, you’re Belle! That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you.
Phoenix: Katie, if you don’t say anything in the next five seconds, I’m going to come over and knock your door down!
Me: I’m here.
Phoenix: Finally! You really know how to scare a girl. What’s up?
Me: Nothing. Just cleaning up the kitchen.
Phoenix: I’m coming over for lunch. I’ll bring yummy food.
Me: Leftovers? I love your mom’s cooking.
Phoenix: You bet. Your fridge will be stocked with goodies to last you weeks.
Phoenix sometimes brings over what she claims are leftovers from her family’s dinners, promising me they have so much extra they don’t know what to do with it. And it’s such a shame for it to go to waste. But I know it’s just an excuse. I think her mom feels bad for me and my dad. Dad took care of dinner some nights, but it was usually Mom’s department. I hope Phoenix didn’t tell her mom how I have to manage on my own most nights, because that’s a little mortifying. Even though I’m super grateful for the gesture. Not to mention Mrs. Ellis’s cooking isdelicious.
Phoenix: You still in pajamas?
Me: Yeah, why?
Phoenix: Because I won’t bother getting dressed if you’re not.
Me: Lol, you’re going to walk outside in pajamas?
Phoenix: People have done worse things in the neighborhood…
Me: I think you’re one of the only people in the world who actually has the guts to do something like that.
Phoenix: Nah, I’m just too lazy to dress. See ya in an hour.
Even though I’m not really in the mood for company, I’m glad she’s coming. I need the distraction. Not that Phoenix is even considered company—she’s family. And she always makes me feel better, even when she’s not trying. I don’t know how I’llget through the hours until I have to see him again, but she’ll definitely make it easier.
Once I finish cleaning up the kitchen, I lounge on the couch with a mindless game on my phone. It helps keep out the memory, though only a little.
The door opens and Phoenix steps in. “I have arrived!” And like she promised, she’s dressed in her pink pajamas splattered with strawberries.
