CHAPTER 1
Indie and Gray are at it again—making out, that is. Their lips have been glued to each other for what feels like an hour now. Specifically, around the time the three of us arrived at this lake party.
And Indie promised we'd go swimming. Instead, my butt is stuck on a beach towel, longingly watching the water and the kids frolicking around in it.
“We promise not to make you feel like a third wheel this time,” they said. “It's going to be fun,” they said.
Liars, that's what they are.
It's been weeks since my best friend and my brother got together. The initial weirdness I felt about the whole thing had been quickly replaced by frustration. It's not that I don't appreciate that Indie is doing her best not to make me feel left out—like making sure to hang out with me every chance she gets—but in times like this, I can't help but feel that way.
The dynamic between the three of us has changed. Gray no longer owns the role of the third wheel—it’s mine now.
So, yeah, I’m kind of jealous. And maybe a little envious, too.
Because as much as it's frustrating that I constantly feel like a third wheel to the lovey-dovey couple, I want what they have for myself, too.
And I have a particular boy in mind for that.
Only said boy is currently in the water, making out with a girl who isn't me.
Duane Hollis.
My brother’s best friend, our neighbor, and the boy I grew up with.
He’s the reason why I summoned the courage to wear the two-piece bikini underneath this loose shirt. Because I want him to notice me. I want him to see me as more than his best friend's geeky sister. I want him to realize that I can be sexy, too.
I even let Indie gather my long light brown hair up into a messy tail—because according to her, it would give me a sensual look. She wanted me to put on contacts instead of glasses so my "gorgeous deep green eyes would pop." But since I have every intention of swimming in the lake, I refused.
But how can Duane take notice of my efforts when his attention is being monopolized by Heather Nielsen? Freaking Heather with her gorgeous blonde hair and equally gorgeous face and perfect body.
Seriously, she looks perfect. It’s the main reason why she’s one of the Four Blondes, a.k.a. the hottest and most popular clique in Maple Grove High.
At first, I thought she was nothing but a fling. Duane only ever had that, after all. Like my brother used to be, he’s not the type to get into serious relationships. Except maybe back in middle school when he dated Hannah Smithson for all of three months.
But it seems like Heather shares a similarity with Hannah. By “similarity,” I don’t just mean the first letter of their names. I’m also talking about the fact that she’s the only girl he’s been with for the past few weeks. And it seems to be getting more and more serious as days go by.
My hope of him ever noticing me is starting to obliterate.
The truth is I haven’t always felt this way toward Duane. My feelings for him started from being platonic...until it morphed into something more.
The day he stole my first kiss...
“What are you doing there, Beanie?”
Startled, I glance up from my art work, my gaze connecting with a pair of cerulean eyes.
It’s our neighbor Duane. He must be playing with Grayson in the backyard again because he looks sweaty and his dark blonde hair is plastered to his forehead. His Spider-Man shirt even has grass stains on it.
I scrunch up my nose at him. “You stink.”
“I do?” He raises his arm and smells his armpit. “Oh, well, I’m just gonna take a shower later.”
I make a face. Boys are gross.
“So, is that a hotdog?”
I blink at him from behind my glasses. “What?”
He points at my paper on the dining table. “Your drawing—is it a hotdog?”
A scowl breaks across my face. “It’s not a hotdog, dummy. It’s a caterpillar."
Yesterday, Ms. Miller tasked the whole class to draw the life cycle of a butterfly for our homework assignment. Even though it’s only Saturday, I’ve already decided to work on it. I don’t want to be like some of my classmates who love waiting until the last minute to finish their assignments. Like Tommy Brown who never does his homework at home. I don’t want to be like him—I want to be a perfect student.
"Well, it looks like a hotdog to me," Duane laughs and pulls out the chair next to me, flopping down on it. "Here, let me help you."
I roll my eyes, but slide the paper toward him. "Fine. Do it yourself."
"Oh, come on, Beanie. I'm just going to show you how it's done."
"Whatever. And stop calling me Beanie," I glower.
He started the stupid nickname on my seventh birthday when I started wearing a beanie. It’s been two years already and he hasn't stopped calling me that. Ugh.
Although, to his defense, I still wear one.
"It's done."
"That fast?" I gasp, impressed. But then I glance down to look at his work, and the scowl is instantly back on my face. "What is this?"
His drawing isn't even nowhere close to a caterpillar. It’s just a freaking stick figure with numerous hands sticking out on either side. Duane is just messing with me. Aaargh!
"Thanks for the help, Duane." Glaring at him, I grab the paper and crumple it in my hand.
"Any time, Beanie." He winks.
Ugh. He’s so annoying. Boys are so annoying.
The girls in my class always talk and giggle about boys. Honestly, I don’t see the big deal. Boys are both gross and annoying. Why would anyone put up with that?
With an eye-roll, I get up from the table to finish my assignment in my room where there isn't any obnoxious boy to bother me, but Duane grabs my hand to stop me.
"Wait. Uh, I have something to give you."
I fold my arms over my chest. "If it's another frog, I don't want it."
Weeks ago, he and my brother put a dead frog—which they'd found in the garden—on my bed to mess with me and my best friend, Indie, who came over to hang out. Indie and I had screamed so loud we got my mom's attention. She grounded Gray for a few days. It should have lasted a week.
"It's not, scout promise," he says, holding three fingers up. "But you have to close your eyes first."
I shake my head, my pigtails whipping my cheeks. "Then I really don't want it."
"Fine." His eyes gleam in that mischievous way they always do. Then before I know it, he leans forward and presses his lips against mine.
My eyes are wide open, staring in shock at his closed ones. I freeze for a moment, so it takes me a couple seconds to push him away. I’m breathing fast, my fingers trembling on my lips as I gape at Duane. "Y-You kissed me!"
"Yep." He smirks then walks away like he didn't just turn my world upside down.
He never realized it, but that kiss had changed everything. It made me see him as more than the boy who loved getting into my nerves. Because of that kiss, I developed romantic feelings for Duane Hollis. Feelings that only seemed to grow over the years.
If only he knows.
But how will he know if you're doing squat about it?
Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I glance over at Indie and Gray—not even surprised to see them still wrapped up in each other.