A tiny piece of egg caught in my throat. It was seriously gross to hear Mom talking about boys my age. “Hottie? Mom, that’s just weird.”
Mom pushed off from the counter, picked up her plate from the table, and headed to the sink. “Honey, I might be old, but my eyes are still working fine. And they were really working earlier.”
I cringed. Double gross. “Are you turning into a cougar? Is this some sort of midlife crisis I need to be concerned about?”
Rinsing off her plate, she glanced over her shoulder. “Katy, I hope you’ll make an effort to meet them. I think it would be nice for you to make friends before school starts.” Pausing, she yawned. “They could show you around, yes?” I refused to think about the first day of school, new kid and all. I dumped my uneaten eggs in the garbage. “Yeah, it would be nice. But I don’t want to go banging on their door, begging them to be my friend.”
“It wouldn’t be begging. If you put on one of those pretty sundresses you wore in Florida instead of this.” She tugged on the hem of my shirt. “It would be flirting.”
I glanced down. It said MY BLOG IS BETTER THAN YOUR VLOG. There wasn’t a thing wrong with it. “How about I show up in my undies?”
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “That would definitely make an impression.”
“Mom!” I laughed. “You’re supposed to yell at me and tell me that’s not a good idea!”
“Baby, I don’t worry about you doing anything stupid. But seriously, make an effort.”
I wasn’t sure how to ‘make an effort.’
She yawned again. “Well, honey, I’m going to catch up on sleep.”
“All right, I’ll get some good stuff at the store.” And maybe mulch and plants. The flower bed outside was hideous.
“Katy?” Mom had stopped in the doorway, frowning.
“Yeah?”
A shadow flickered over her face, darkening her eyes. “I know this move is hard for you, especially before your senior year, but it was the best thing for us to do. Staying there, in that apartment, without him…It’s time we started living again. Your dad would have wanted that.” The lump in my throat I thought I’d left in Florida was back. “I know, Mom. I’m fine.”
“Are you?” Her fingers curled into a fist. The sunlight coming through the window reflected off the gold band around her ring finger.
I nodded quickly, needing to reassure her. “I’m okay. And I’ll go next door. Maybe they can tell me where the store is. You know, make an effort.”
“Excellent! If you need anything, call me. Okay?” Mom’s eyes watered on another long yawn. “I love you, honey.”
I started to tell her that I loved her, too, but she disappeared upstairs before the words were out of my mouth.
At least she was trying to change, and I was determined to at least try and fit in here. Not hide in my room on my laptop all day like Mom was afraid I’d do. But mingling with kids I’d never met wasn’t my thing. I’d rather read a book and stalk my blog comments.
I bit my lip. I could hear my dad’s voice, his favorite phrase encouraging me, “Come on, Kittycat, don’t be a bystander.” I squared my shoulders. Dad had never let life pass him by…
And asking about the nearest store was an innocent-enough reason to introduce myself. If Mom was right and they were my age, maybe this wouldn’t turn out to be such an epic fail of a move. This was stupid, but I was doing it. I hurried across the lawn and across the driveway before I chickened out.
Hopping onto the wide porch, I opened the screen door and knocked, then stepped back and smoothed the wrinkles out of my shirt. I’m cool. I got this. There is nothing weird about asking for directions.
Heavy footsteps came from the other side, and then the door was swinging open and I was staring at a very broad, tan, well-muscled chest. A naked chest. My gaze dropped and my breath sort of…stalled. Jeans hung low on his hips, revealing a thin line of dark hair that formed below his navel and disappeared under the band of the jeans.
His stomach was ripped. Perfect. Totally touchable. Not the kind of stomach I expected on a seventeen-year-old boy, which is how old I suspected he was, but yeah, I wasn’t complaining. I also wasn’t talking. And I was staring.
My gaze finally traveling north again, I noted thick, sooty lashes fanning the tips of his high cheeks and hiding the color of his eyes as he looked down at me. I needed to know what color his eyes were.
“Can I help you?” Full, kissable lips turned down in annoyance.
His voice was deep and firm. The kind of voice accustomed to people listening and obeying without question. His lashes lifted, revealing eyes so green and brilliant they couldn’t be real. They were an intense emerald color that stood out in vibrant contrast against his tan skin.
“Hello?” he said again, placing one hand on the doorframe as he leaned forward. “Are you capable of speaking?”
I sucked in a sharp breath and took a step back. A wave of embarrassment heated my face.
The boy lifted an arm, brushing back a wavy lock of hair on his forehead. He glanced over my shoulder, then back to me. “Going once…”
By the time I found my voice, I wanted to die. “I…I was wondering if you knew where the closest grocery store is. My name is Katy. I moved next door.” I gestured at my house, rambling like an idiot. “Like two days ago—”
“I know.”
Ooooo-kay. “Well, I was hoping someone would know the quickest way to the grocery store and maybe a place that sold plants.”