“I swear, if that’s Vivian, she’s staying at a hotel all week,” I groan, flipping my comforter off and sitting up.
Outside my window, muffled voices mix with the scuffling and thumping.
After pulling on my robe, I shuffle out of my room and rub the sleepy dirt out of my eyes enough to begin the arduous process of searching my home. In the dining room, Vivian clutches a mug in both hands as she stares out the window facing the neighbor’s yard.Well, their driveway, but it stretches all the way from the road to behind their house and pool, where the garage is situated right in front of the beach.
“Finally wake up to watch the show?” She raises her eyebrows at me before taking a sip.
“Huh?” I scratch my head, pouting as my fingers catch in a knot.
“It’s almost four in the afternoon. And,” she gestures to the window, raising her eyebrows, “they’re almost done. You missed the best parts.” She turns back toward whatever’s outside and sighs. A devious smile creeps along the corner of her mouth that I recognize all too much from our college days.
Running my fingers through my messy hair one more time, I roll my eyes and waddle over to her. “I figured you’d sleep in,” I yawn, covering my mouth, “given you stayed up partying half the night, then watched a bunch of chick flicks until five this morning.”
“Yeah,” her smile grows, “not when I havethatto look at.”
Squinting from the bright sun, I glance out the window. A giant moving truck sits in the road between my house and the neighbor’s. After hopping down from the back of the truck, a topless man carries a big, tan box across the lawn to Mr. Jones’s old place.
“Huh. I guess the new family moved in faster than I thought.”
“Really?” Vivian raises her perfectly trimmed eyebrows at me. “That’s all you have to say?”
I shrug. I mean, sure his biceps are huge. And from the quick glance I got, he has even more muscles rippling on his bare stomach. And yeah, I itch to run my fingers through his messy, longish, blond hair and across his stubbled chin. And maybe his toned ass causes a jet stream to twirl like a tornado inside my stomach. And sure, dream man has nothing on him. But, there’s no point in staring. He’s my neighbor. Soon enough, he’ll figure out what a freak I am. Besides, he’s probably happily married with two point five little kids and a yippy dog. All he needs is to figure out a way to install a white, picket fence across that weird driveway. Nothing will ever happen, so there’s no point in even ogling.
“Eh, it’s just a guy. I’ve seen better.” I shrug again and head into the kitchen. “So, what did you want to do today?” Since I’m already up, I might as well make the most of it.
“Seriously, Asie?” Vivian follows me and plops down on a stool at the island.
“Huh? Yeah, there’s still plenty of time to do touristy things or hit up the beach if you want to.” I grab my teapot and fill it with water before plopping it on the stove.
“But,” she glances back through the dining room to the window before shrugging, “whatever. Do you even like men?”
“What?” I laugh, grabbing a purple mug with a sparkly unicorn on it. “Yeah, I just . . . I don't date.”
“That’s your excuse for turning down every single guy that hit on you last night?”
“No . . . Yeah . . . I just, I don’t have time to date.”
“You don’t drink or date?” She shakes her head. “We need to do something aboutall this,this week.” She wiggles her fingers at my body. “I am not letting my bestie waste away the best years of her life.”
I glance down at my clothes and try not to appear offended. I’m not some ugly duckling that a little makeover is going to magically fix. But with my grubby sweats that I pulled back on after we got home last night and the stained robe that I’m pretty sure I got my freshman year of college, I can’t even convince myself.
My life sucks.
But it’s a life. My life. And it’s as good as I can get.
“Stronger men than you have tried and failed.” There’s no enthusiasm as I grab a box of chai tea from the cupboard and plop a bag into my empty mug. “But feel free to give it your best shot.”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than give it a shot. I’m going to turn my favorite recluse into a real girl.”
I snort, but the screeching whistle from the teapot drowns out my sarcastic response. Grabbing the teapot off the stove, I pour the scalding water into my mug. Instead of answering, I busy myself with fixing my tea. A little milk, a splash of vanilla, three heaping spoonfuls of sugar, gently stirred, not shaken, and two blows of the coldest air my lips can muster. Two, not three.
Perfection.
Sipping my steaming mug of awesome, I sit down next to Vivian. After another minute, when I’m sure the awkward silence has stretched enough to change the subject, I take one more sip, then loop back to my previous distraction.
“So, what did you want to do today?”
Vivian rolls her eyes, but smiles as she taps the rim of her mug with manicured, pink nails. “First, we’re getting your hair and nails done. There has to be at least one salon in this tiny town. Then, let’s hit up the beach and see if we can at least catch the sunset today.”