More Than This Page 9
I look at her for a second, then burst out laughing. Uncontrollable laughter that has the sides of body aching. I laugh so hard I’m pretty sure colored snot from my popsicle is oozing out of my nose. Hot right? I hear her quietly laughing with me, and then, “Holy shit, Mick… what the hell is that?”
I stop laughing abruptly and follow her eyes to see what the heck she’s talking about, and then I see him, and I think, “What the hell is that?”
It’s a boy. A boy better than any other boy I’ve ever seen before. He could be our age but he’s built bigger. Like, not an “I work out, I’m a jock” big, but like, I work… lifting heavy shit, kinda big. Farm boy big? I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about boys and big before.
“Let’s go introduce ourselves,” Megan states, already climbing through the window back into her room.
I sit frozen staring at him, as he slowly makes his way up to the front door, taking in his surroundings, like he hasn’t seen the house before. Maybe he hasn’t. Dark blond hair hidden under a baseball cap, dark jeans and plain grey shirt. I find myself wondering what color his eyes are, when he looks up suddenly and catches me mid stare. Kill me. Kill me now. I’m sure the blush has crept up to my face and I’m even more sure that he can see it. A slow smile lifts at the corner of his mouth and he raises his right hand in a small wave. I force a smile, which I'm sure looks more like I’m constipated than an actual smile. I start to lift my hand to wave back…
“Mikayla… Come onnnn!!” Meg screams at me like a banshee.
I stand up suddenly and hurl myself through the window, tripping on the eave and falling so unladylike, flat on my ass. “What is wrong with you?” She looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Big boy farm.” WHAT? Please, Kill. Me. Now.
By the time I’ve calmed my rapidly beating heart and convinced Megan that I’m not completely insane, I find myself stumbling down her driveway and onto the driveway next door. We’re greeted by a lady who looks to be in her late 30’s, wearing sweats and unloading boxes from a cherry red truck. She sees us and instantly smiles. “Hi, you young ladies must be our neighbors?” she says, wiping sweat from her brow.
“I am, my name’s Megan,” she reaches out to shake the ladies hand. “This is my best friend Mikayla,” she nudges me.
“Uh. Hi, I’m… um Mikayla,” I say, shaking her hand. My eyes are cast downwards. I don’t want to look too much at the ladies face. She’s more than likely the mother of the boy whom I’ve just been eye licking.
“Well, you girls are just the prettiest picture,” she drawls in a thick Texan accent. “I’m Sam,” she faces the house, “Henry! Boys!”
Im still looking at the concrete of the driveway when I hear the front screen door open and close a couple times.
“Yeah, Ma?” says a male voice. I jerk my head up and see him, like, really see him. Brown, like the color of syrup, his eyes. He recognizes me and stands in front of me with a smile.
“Honey, this is Megan, she’s our neighbor.” He takes his cap off and shakes Megan's hand, never taking his eyes off me. “And this is her best friend Mikayla.” We shake hands, and I swear, sparks fly and my hand tingles with a sensation that roots me to the floor, something I have never felt before. “Girls, this is my son James, I have another one somewhere, much younger. I’m sure you’ll see him soon.”
“Nice to meet you.” James finally lets go of my hand and I weep internally.
Megan’s looking at me like she’s watching the third head ooze from the second head I’ve just grown. Luckily, she saves the day by actually talking to this James kid. I’m still trying to get over the physical shocks that have just sparked my body into life. They talk about school and sports and why they moved here, what there is to do in our small town, and everything else small talk might consist of.
From this, I get that he’s a freshman and will be going to our school. Great. I’ll be a struck dumb and mute for the next four years.
I hear my name, but I don’t know what was said.
Megan nudges my side, I look up at her, her eyebrows raised and head jerking towards James. I slowly look over to him. “Huh?” Im so fricken eloquent I can’t even handle it.
He clears his throat, “It was nice meeting you Mikayla, I have to get back to helping unpack. Hopefully I’ll see you around school or something.” He says it more like a question than a statement.
Before I get to answer a kid comes barreling toward us, he can’t be more than 8 years old. He runs straight to Meg and me so fast I don’t think he can stop in time. Both Meg and I put our hands out to stop him from crashing into us, but his legs save him and he stops mere inches from us. He glares at Megan, then at me. Seconds which feel like minutes pass, neither saying anything. Then he smiles, “Hey, have you seen my baseball?”
We can’t help it. We laugh.
2 weeks later, James and I are dating.
***
“You okay there, Miss Mikayla?” Heidi asks from across the limo.
I must’ve zoned out.
“Yeah…” I huff. “I just… I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming,” I say, as I pick imaginary lint of my dress.
“No one suspects the people they love of douchebaggery,” Heidi looks at me sympathetically.
“Or slutbaggery,” Lucy adds.