That's Just the Beginning

Chapter 3

I unlocked the door to my house to hear pop music playing in the living room. I smiled widely as I heard my Aunt’s voice. She was singing along to the song; I silently locked the door and dropped my bag, well… it wasn't silent, seeing as the music is fully blasting throughout the house and I’m sure our new neighbors are crying.

I entered the kitchen to see her dancing in her shorts and tank top to Avril Lavigne’s ‘Girlfriend.' She's singing at the top of her lungs while making cookies. I tip-toed behind her and whispered in her ear, ‘boo.’ I’m guessing she heard it. She jumped into the air, spinning around and holding her chest as I laughed loudly, smirking as she glared at me and then smiled.

“You’re home!” She said, hugging me tightly. I nodded, hugging her back.

“How was the flight?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I shed my jacket after we departed from our hugs. She sighed, obviously annoyed.

“It was terrible! Do you know how hard it is to find a last minute flight on a Friday? I’m sorry that you were alone Wednesday and yesterday. I had to work. On a lighter note; how was school?” She asked, handing me a mixer as she sat herself on the counter and I pulled up a stool. Sitting on the counter would get me grounded for life if my parents were here. Besides… we eat there. Note to self: Disinfect the counter tops.

“It was… odd.” I said, nodding as she turned off the music. She looked at me with a confused expression. She raised an eyebrow, urging me to continue.

“Well, there’s this guy-.” I began to say but she cut me off, squealing in excitement. She smiled widely, giggling excitedly.

“For all you know, I could’ve ended that sentence with ‘that wants to kill me.’” I stated, crossing my arms and giving her a flat look.

"Sorry.” She apologized, smiling sheepishly. “I’m just excited to hear about guys again! I remember High School.” She said, sighing before looking at me again.

“Well, I don’t even know this guy.” I said, shrugging. “But I catch him staring at me and looking at me, but not that ‘I like you’ looking at me, it’s that ‘I’m a creep’ looking at you.”

"Well, who is he?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows, attempting to decipher the mystery that is Adrian Easton.

“He’s Adrian Easton.” I stated, earning another encouraging glance from her. “And from what I hear from Jessie, is that he is, well, Adrian Easton. But he’s a bad boy; he seems like a trouble maker- like he’s bad news.” I replied, biting my lip. Instead of giving a disapproving look towards me like I’d expected her to do; she smirked and wriggled her eyebrows.

“So… you got a thing for bad boys?” She asked, smirking. I sighed, rolling my eyes and shaking my head.

“No, I don’t. He’s intimidating. He honestly scares me.” I whispered, not liking the fact of having to admit something like that. The last thing I wanted to be labeled as was a punk, seeing as I already categorize under nerd, loser, loner and geek.

“Is he hot?” My 28 year old Aunt asked, acting as if she’s 17. I smirked, rolling my eyes but bit my lip as I nodded. A blush formed on my cheeks as she giggled and pointed at me.

“On a scale of one to ten, how hot is he?” She asked me. She had her arms crossed over her chest.

“10,” I said, nodding. “He’s mysterious and it’s so attractive but it’s so scary at the same time, you know? I mean, he doesn’t look like he’s a serial killer but serial killers don’t always give off that ‘Yo, I have bodies in my basement’ look either.” I admitted.

“Well, I hardly doubt he’s a serial killer in junior year. That wouldn’t look too good on his college applications. By the way, are you hungry?” She asked, staring grumpily at the stove. She was never really a good cook, one heck of a baker, but never an amazing cook.

“Yeah, somewhat, but if you’re cooking- I’m completely full.” I joked.

“You should get ready; we’re going out to dinner.” She said, smiling as she danced around the kitchen.

“When? Is it a formal restaurant or a burger joint?” I asked with an eyebrow raised. The last time I went to a burger joint with someone other than Jessie was the last time I saw Aunt Cherry.

"It’s not formal but don’t go in sweatpants! And I definitely want to get there before 7. All of them are crowded with teenagers with intentions of getting drunk.” She said, wrinkling her nose.

I looked at the clock, it was only four. I might as well get ready now, so I wouldn’t fall asleep and have 10 minutes to get ready. I'm extremely tired. I made my way up the stairs.

After showering and wrapping my hair tightly under a towel, I stood in front of my closet. Remembering the fact that the restaurant isn’t formal so I thumbed through my closet. There was no way I was wearing a skirt, in one of my mother’s many attempts at transforming me into a girly girl she bought me several skirts and dresses, which I separate from my other clothes with a thin coat hanger. Besides, it’s not like it’s so hot that I can’t wear jeans. After putting on a tank top and sliding into a pair of jeans, much to my preference, I heard my cell phone buzzing in my drawer.

‘Can you help me with my homework? Come over, please. It’ll only take half an hour, I promise. I can’t go to a party tonight if I don’t do it. Please.' It was a text from none other than Jessie. I sighed loudly, replying quickly.

‘Yeah, give me a half hour.’ I sent her, earning a happy reply but instead of responding, I went back to my closet.

After 10 minutes of searching, I decided on a red and black flannel shirt. Who can go wrong with flannel? My socks went next, the colorful socks made me smile as I slid on my red converses. I unwrapped the towel that sat on my head and shook out my dry, dirty blonde hair, satisfied. I brushed it a few times and put on a red beanie to avoid it frizzing in the wind.

“Auntie, I’m leaving!” I called out as I neared the front door, grabbing my backpack that remained beside the door.

“Where to?” She asked, appearing in the doorway of the living room.

“Jessie’s, she needs help with her homework or she can’t go to a party.” I simply replied.

“You have your phone?” She asked. I nodded.

“Be home before 7! I’m not going out to a teenager packed restaurant! If you’re late, you starve!” She urged. I nodded, laughing lightly as I began heading outside swirling my keys around on my finger.

__

“But why does the ‘x’ go there?” Jessie asked, slamming her index finger across the paper. I sighed, before replying. We’d gone over this at least 10 times and she was being stubborn. It felt like I’d been trying to teach her for hours and I’m starting to wonder if I have been teaching her for hours. It sure feels like it.

“Whatever you do to one side, you do to the other. Now stop complaining or else you’ll never finish your homework and I’ll be late to dinner and you’ll have to sit at home.” I stated, pushing her math homework to the side. We moved onto the next subject and eventually, we finished.

“I have no time to get ready!” Jessie cried, tossing her books into her backpack. I stared at her as she immediately jumped up, staring at her phone screen like it was the most important thing in the world.

“What time is it?” I questioned, slowly standing up, struggling somewhat as I wiped off my pants. I fixed my beanie on my head and listened as Jessie answered my question.

“7:13.” She answered, rushing towards her closet. I felt my eyes bulge out of my head. I was supposed to be home before seven! I began to walk towards her door, tossing a quick ‘goodbye' and 'have a nice time at the party’ over my shoulder before I darted towards my car.