Frustrated, I send him another, asking how I’m supposed to get into this place and if he needs to be here to sign a lease. After a couple minutes tick by and he doesn’t reply, I shove open the door.
“I’m going to take a look around,” I tell my sisters as I hop out of the car.
I hike up the gravel driveway, hoping I can find either a letter from the landlord or an old rental sign that hopefully has a phone number.
The more I walk around, the more my face throbs. I took some painkillers earlier and pressed a cold bottle of soda to my cheek for a while, but it still hurts like a motherfucker and looks just as bad. In a couple days, I’ll probably have a bruise.
“Goddamn, stupid, dickless asshole,” I chew my dad out as I trot up the steps to the side door.
“Well, hello to you, too.”
The voice comes from out of nowhere and startles the crap out of me. I spin around and nearly trip over my untied laces. I grab the wooden railing for support and end up getting slivers in my palms, but at least I manage to stop myself from falling on my ass.
Sweeping my hair out of my face, I glance around to see who the culprit is who almost made me fall on my face. The instant I spot him, I know I’m about to have trouble on my hands.
He’s standing on the other side of the fence that divides the yard between the house next door and ours. He looks around my age, is tall, lean, with blond hair, and one of the prettiest faces I’ve ever seen. Which yes, is cliché and makes me sound stupidly girly, but it’s the truth. He’s also sporting an I-think-I’m-the-shit smirk, or a smirk I like to refer to as a douchebag stamp.
He rests his arms on top of the fence. “Are you lost, baby?”
My jaw ticks. God, I hate it when guys call me baby.
I cock my brow. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yeah, I am, baby.” He deliberately lets his gaze scroll over me. “You know what? Forget the baby remark. I’m thinking you’re more of a sweetheart sort of girl.”
“Oh, my God.” I hold up my hands. I can’t even right now. “Does that shit seriously ever work for you?”
His smile fumbles for the briefest of seconds before he plasters the smirk right back on. “Don’t worry; it’s okay to be flattered.”
“I’m not flattered.” I trot down the steps and stop a short distance from him. “But don’t worry, sweetheart; I’m sure there’s some girl somewhere stupid enough to find your disgusting little obsession with vomit-inducing nicknames swoon-worthy. You should probably go find her, baby. And I’m thinking the best place to start is on go-fuck-yourself lane. And don’t ever call me sweetheart or baby again or I’ll kick you in the dick drive.” Then I flip him the middle finger and turn away, heading back down the driveway.
My sisters have gotten out of the car, and Londyn is digging through the trunk while Payton texts on her phone and Bailey watches me with an amused grin.
“Way to make friends with the new neighbors.” She gives me a thumbs-up.
“That guy was an ass.” I stop in front of her, casting a quick glance back at the guy.
I half expect him to be standing near the fence, glaring at me, but he’s walking back to the house. When he reaches the door, however, he throws a look in my direction, his expression laced with irritation.
“A hot ass,” Payton remarks without glancing up from her phone.
Bailey grins as she slings the strap of her guitar over her shoulder. “For sure.”
“Don’t.” I point a finger back and forth between the two of them. “That isn’t the kind of guy you want to date.”
“Who said anything about dating?” Payton grins. “Maybe I’m just looking for a boy toy.”
Bailey and Payton high-five each other, and I shake my head.
“You’re not even sixteen yet. You don’t need a boy toy,” I lecture. “You should be focused on getting good grades and pursuing your dreams.”
“Hooking up with a hottie is on my bucket list,” Payton remarks as she shoves her phone into the back pocket of her torn jeans.
I roll my eyes. “That should not be on your bucket list. Cool things should be. Like going to Paris and seeing the ocean. Shit like that.”
“That stuff is on my bucket list, too.” Payton pulls her curly brown and red streaked hair into a messy bun and secures it with an elastic that’s around her wrist. “But hooking up with the hot next-door neighbor is more doable than being able to afford to fly to Paris.”
I cross my arms. “With that attitude, you won’t.”
Payton sighs, tugging at the bottom of her oversized worn Nirvana T-shirt. “You sound like Mom.”
Bailey nods. “She really does.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” I utter quietly.
“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.” Payton offers me a small smile. “It’s just that … Don’t you ever get tired of being the responsible one? You’re seventeen, but sometimes, you act like you’re thirty.”
“Someone has to be the responsible one,” I say, working to keep an even tone to hide the truth. That I do wish I could act my age. But they don’t need to know how I feel. Then they’d just feel guilty. “And besides, I don’t always act responsible. I do a lot of stupid stuff all the time.”
Payton deliberates, nodding. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Mom wouldn’t have told our next-door neighbor to go fuck himself, and that she was going to kick him in the dick.”
“That’s not exactly what I said,” I argue. “And besides, he deserved it. He was an ass. And you should realize that right now. No flirting with him, okay?”
“We’ll see,” Payton says with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Lovely. That more than likely means she’s going to go after blondie baby douchebag—my nickname for him from now on. And Bailey will probably flirt with him, too, although she’ll back off before Payton does.
Between the two of them, Bailey is more loud and outspoken, except when it comes to guys. Payton is the flirt and has already had her fair share of boyfriends. She assured me a while ago that she is still a virgin, but I still stuffed a cookie jar full of condoms and put it in the bathroom. So far, none of us have used any, but my money is on Payton being the one to stick her hand into that cookie jar first.
“Oh, my God, you’re thinking about the condom cookie jar, aren’t you?” Payton groans as she heads toward the t
runk where Londyn has begun to stack boxes and bags. “Just because we like to talk about sex doesn’t mean we’re actually having it.”
“I know that.” I follow her. “But when you do start to be sexually active, I want to make sure you’re careful.”
“I feel like I’m in health class right now.” Payton picks up a box from off the ground. “You want to go get a banana so you can give me a demonstration on how to put one on?”
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” I joke with a smirk. “But I think a cucumber’s closer to the right shape unless his dick is really crooked.”
Londyn snickers as she drops a box onto the ground beside her feet. “Like Donny Dapierfield.”
I make a face. “Ew. You saw Donny Dapierfield’s dick? When?”
“When he took me to prom and asked me to give him a handjob.” Her face twists in disgust. “He didn’t even wait for me to answer; just pulled out his thing and looked at me expectantly.”
I lean against the open trunk. “Please tell me you didn’t do it.”
“Hell no. I laughed at him. I couldn’t help it. His dick looked like this.” She holds up her hand with her index finger curved in.
I snort a laugh. “I would’ve hit him in his crooked dick and made it even more crooked.”
She grabs a bag out of the trunk and sets it on top of a stack of boxes. “I might have, but my laughter must have wounded his ego because he zipped up his pants and drove me straight home without saying another word.”
“Um, Hadley,” Bailey interrupts. “Where are we supposed to put all these boxes if we can’t even get in the house?”
Crap. I almost forgot about the key situation, thanks to blondie baby douchebag distracting me.
“Stack them on the front porch for now. I’m going to take a look around again, without distractions this time, and see if I can figure out how to get ahold of the landlord.”
I start up the driveway, sending my dad another text, then go up to the front door and try the knob, but it’s locked. I have the same luck with the side door, so I start looking around for a sign somewhere, eventually heading over to the shed/garage. The door isn’t automatic, and the only way to get in is to push it up by hand. Once I get it open, I feel around for a light switch.