BITE ME

CHAPTER TWO: Boy-Next-Door

CHAPTER TWO: Boy Next Door

When you think about making wishes, most often than not, you just opt to do it out of a simple whim. You don’t do it because you believe it’s going to magically make your dreams come true, or that you think it’s just as good as wasting a perfectly good opportunity if you don’t.

People are growing more and more skeptical of these wishes as they grow older.

But when you do make one, don’t you think that it’s a bit odd that deep inside of you—despite whatever your logical mind tells you—you still somehow end up believing that there would be a chance? That there’s a chance that it’ll come true and all your skepticism was all for nothing?

But as Bree stared at herself from the rearview mirror of her sister’s car, all she could think about was the extra popsicle she could’ve brought with her along the ride had she not gotten herself into a wishing frenzy with that old man. A full day has already passed but still, all it brought were problems. Her brother’s still a d**k, and her sister’s still adamant about sending her to a school full of children that will probably eat her alive.

“Hey, look!” Mason’s overly-enthused voice cut through the aimless thoughts brewing inside her mind, and she glanced at her brother who was hugging one of his boxes close to his chest. “The fortune cookie says that good fortune will run into me today.”

“I hope it’s a bus.”

Mason ignored her and Avery shot her a look. But all she could think about during the whole two-hour drive was the smell of his brother’s socks.

Nothing says road trip like a good old-fashioned reminiscent trauma.

When they arrived at their final destination, the moving truck that Avery had booked was already waiting for them there. Several of their furniture was already being hauled out while an average of three unfamiliar women kept watch on the other side of the street.

Avery immediately waved at them and started a conversation.

“Is that you already?” One of them, a middle-aged woman wearing an apron and a matching head scarf, greeted Avery with a huge smile on her face. “I can’t believe you’re already this big! Last time I saw you, you were still wearing your high school uniform.”

She chuckled at this and nodded. “I bet I couldn’t fit in it now even if I tried.”

“Are those two your siblings? I can’t even recognize them anymore. And to think that it hasn’t been that long since I last saw you.”

Avery turned to Bree who in turn transferred her panicked gaze to Mason. “You two, why don’t you come here and greet our old neighbors? Leave your boxes there. The guys are gonna handle it.”

“By ‘old neighbors’, did she mean—”

“Nope,” Mason cut her off, almost too harshly, and with an unreadable expression on his face, left to set a few of the boxes he was holding into one of the old rooms.

“Geez. Is it that time of the month again?”

✧ ✧ ✧

That house had been their mother’s. And their mother’s mother before that. It held generations of their families in it so naturally, it was already well-worn and had a certain smell to it. Still, it was better than nothing. They’ve had plenty of offers to sell this property before. Usually good deals, too. But not one was entertained.

As soon as Bree saw the first signs of the house’s garden, she was immediately brought back to how they used to play in there whenever the electricity was out. Granted, most of the pots had been buried in mud and all of the plants have wilted, but still ... you could still see traces of their mother’s memory in there.

“Mason, aren’t you coming?!” Avery yelled from the bottom of the stairs, and Bree rolled her eyes.

They haven’t even settled in for a full day yet but they were already shouting at each other like they were deaf.

“I’m not! Just bring me home something to eat!”

Cue the second eye roll.

“Mrs. Johnson offered for us to eat in her restaurant free of charge! Now, you either get your ass out of your bed and go there, or you don’t get to eat at all. Your choice!” She grabbed her purse and straightened her shirt before shooting Bree a look. “Let’s go.”

She just nodded, not wanting to get into her bad side after her brother just did.

Mrs. Johnson, AKA the woman with the apron, was one of their mom’s closest friends before she passed away. She owned a small restaurant at one corner of their street that offers the best hangover soup in town, or so they told her. But as Bree chewed on her chicken wing, the hot sauce dripping down her chin, she doubted that the soup was the only one on their menu that had the customers coming back.

“Does it taste good?” Avery crossed her arms in front of her, eyes judging, and Bree just nodded as she inhaled the food on her plate. “You eat like you haven’t been fed in a year. Did you know that?”

Oh, she knows that. She just doesn’t care.

“Are you enjoying your food? How is it?” Mrs. Johnson, a tray tucked under her arm, made her way toward them with a smile.

Maybe it was just the way Bree had devoured the food or if that was just how she usually looks when dealing with people, but she was just awfully happy. Her smile sort of reminded her of their mother. That was how she used to smile, too, whenever she sees them eating.

“By the way, Aubrey. Aren’t you around the same age as my son? You remember him, right?”

Bree’s eyebrows furrowed, only just then remembering that Mrs. Johnson had a kid that was around her age. She lifted her eyes away from her plate for a split second, but that was all that it took to feel her cheeks burning hot.

Standing behind the counter, looking straight at her, was the closest that anyone has ever gotten to imitating a Greek god. The dim lights shone on his hair, emphasizing every last bit of his sharp features as he manned the waiting area, his fingers playing with a pen. When Bree looked up at him again, he was already talking to another customer.

But as she dabbed the tissue that her sister offered against her chin, his eyes caught hers once more, and maybe it was just her mind playing tricks with her, but she could’ve sworn he was sneering as he disappeared into the kitchen.

“So, I’ll take it you still remember him?”

Bree was immediately brought back to their conversation and she blinked up at Mrs. Johnson, her cheeks even more flush as she scrambled for an answer. “I guess,” she said and looked away, feeling embarrassed that she had been gawking at her son up until that moment.

Mrs. Johnson just chuckled, seemingly used to seeing girls act that way around him. “You two used to always get into fights with each other, you know? He was a lot smaller than you, then, so it was easier for you to win. He would always come home sulking after your wrestling matches. It was just adorable.”

Avery bit back a laugh, and Mrs. Johnson shook her head.

“But don’t worry, Aubrey. He’s not one to hold grudges. Especially to pretty girls.” She winked at her and started walking away. “Although, if it turns out that he is one, feel free to kick his butt, okay? I might as well just thank you if you do.”

✧ ✧ ✧

“Did you bring me home something to eat?” Mason’s heavy footsteps greeted Bree as soon as she kicked her shoes off to the side and pushed open the door to the living room.

She just scowled at him and removed her jacket. “Why the hell would I?”

Mason scowled back and plopped down on the sofa that stood lopsided in the middle of the room. “I just love how your face is always in a natural state of disgust.”

“You know, I’d splash water on you if I had some.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, have I ever told you that you were pretty?”

Bree paused and looked at him like he’d just grown a beard on his forehead. “What? No.”

“Well, of course not. I’ve never felt you were pretty.”

“You know, Mason, you look like a sane person and then you open your mouth—”

“Are you two fighting again?” Avery called out from the porch and before either of them could even snitch the other one out, she had already slammed the door behind her, sighing as she said, “You know what, forget I asked. The day you two would stop bickering would be the day I’d eat my hat.”

“Well, aren’t you glad you have no hats?”

Avery’s head turned slowly in his direction and with a tired look on her face, threw her jacket at him. “I’m not even sure how I’m related to the two of you at this point.”