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Authors: Monica Alexander
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hour and half later. It seemed the time had gotten away from Connor too since I saw the surprised look that came over his face when he looked at his watch. As I headed back inside, he gave me a hug before rushing off, saying he had to get home.
Wednesday afternoon, we’d hung out at Starbucks again, sharing a huge brownie and talking about our favorite movies. At five he’d left to pick up Jordan, and I’d gone home to start on my homework since I’d gotten zip done while he was keeping my attention on him instead of my books. To keep my thoughts in check, I reminded myself that he had time to kil in the afternoons since I was his only friend who wasn’t at cheerleading or footbal practice, so I shouldn’t read into him wanting to hang out. Although, he sure was fun.
Just that morning, he’d texted me something funny he’d seen on TV. I responded with a snappy retort and hadn’t stopped smiling since I’d gotten into the shower after he’d texted back, LMAO – can’t wait to see you at school.
He was flirting – again. There was no other way to categorize it. Connor flirted with me al the time. I tried to ignore it, but he made little comments here and there, found ways to touch or tickle me and always hugged me longer than I thought he should. Not that I didn’t welcome al of it. I did, but I stil had my guard up since he was dating a girl who was just waiting for me to steal her boyfriend.
“I cal bulshit,” Nicky said, as we got into the Ford Focus I’d been given to drive while my car was in the shop. “Who’s the guy?”
“Connor Richmond,” I said, as I started the engine. I tried to turn up the music, but Nicky reached over and turned it down, squaring herself so she could stare at me while I drove. It was her way of demanding answers – stare until I caved and deprive me of my music.
“Connor Richmond?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up under her bangs. “As in the guy who is, albeit incredibly dreamy, also dating Alexis Blaine, your archenemy?”
“Archenemy?” I asked speculatively, as I turned to face her. “Don’t be so dramatic. We don’t like each other. Just leave it at that.”
“She’s gonna kick your ass if she finds out, Abby,” Nicky said, ful of seriousness.
I shrugged. “I could take her.”
“Just poke her in the boob with a stick – make it deflate – that’l take her out for a few seconds.” With that she dissolved into giggles.
It was common knowledge that Alexis had gotten a boob job at the beginning of last summer. She left school with barely B cups and returned with D cups. No one gets that big in three months, especialy when you’re only 5’3” and just over 100 pounds. Plus, I knew the truth. We were stil friends back then.
“Do you like him or something?” Nicky asked, changing the subject back to Connor.
“It’s not like that,” I said. “We’re friends. We’ve just hung out a few times.”
“Define a few,” she said, knowing I was holding back.
“Every day this week,” I mumbled, taking a long drink of my latte.
“She is gonna be pissed when you steal her boyfriend,” Nicky said, shaking her head as I refused to dignify her statement with a response.
***
Surf’s Up!
“Welcome to South Shore,” Luke said, looking up from the magazine he was reading at the counter.
“Hey Luke,” I said, as I walked into work Thursday after school.
My arrival was accompanied by the front door chime the owner Larry, a perpetual beach bum, had instaled. He wasn’t a fan of the traditional ding! that most stores had, so he’d instaled one that was more his style.
“Oh, hey Abby,” Luke said, somewhat disappointed.
“It’s lovely to see you too, Luke,” I said, as I stashed my bag behind the counter and put on my name badge.
South Shore didn’t have a dress code, per say, but Larry asked that we al dress ‘beachy’ and wear our names on miniature surfboards around our necks, so the customers knew who they could ask for
Wednesday afternoon, we’d hung out at Starbucks again, sharing a huge brownie and talking about our favorite movies. At five he’d left to pick up Jordan, and I’d gone home to start on my homework since I’d gotten zip done while he was keeping my attention on him instead of my books. To keep my thoughts in check, I reminded myself that he had time to kil in the afternoons since I was his only friend who wasn’t at cheerleading or footbal practice, so I shouldn’t read into him wanting to hang out. Although, he sure was fun.
Just that morning, he’d texted me something funny he’d seen on TV. I responded with a snappy retort and hadn’t stopped smiling since I’d gotten into the shower after he’d texted back, LMAO – can’t wait to see you at school.
He was flirting – again. There was no other way to categorize it. Connor flirted with me al the time. I tried to ignore it, but he made little comments here and there, found ways to touch or tickle me and always hugged me longer than I thought he should. Not that I didn’t welcome al of it. I did, but I stil had my guard up since he was dating a girl who was just waiting for me to steal her boyfriend.
“I cal bulshit,” Nicky said, as we got into the Ford Focus I’d been given to drive while my car was in the shop. “Who’s the guy?”
“Connor Richmond,” I said, as I started the engine. I tried to turn up the music, but Nicky reached over and turned it down, squaring herself so she could stare at me while I drove. It was her way of demanding answers – stare until I caved and deprive me of my music.
“Connor Richmond?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up under her bangs. “As in the guy who is, albeit incredibly dreamy, also dating Alexis Blaine, your archenemy?”
“Archenemy?” I asked speculatively, as I turned to face her. “Don’t be so dramatic. We don’t like each other. Just leave it at that.”
“She’s gonna kick your ass if she finds out, Abby,” Nicky said, ful of seriousness.
I shrugged. “I could take her.”
“Just poke her in the boob with a stick – make it deflate – that’l take her out for a few seconds.” With that she dissolved into giggles.
It was common knowledge that Alexis had gotten a boob job at the beginning of last summer. She left school with barely B cups and returned with D cups. No one gets that big in three months, especialy when you’re only 5’3” and just over 100 pounds. Plus, I knew the truth. We were stil friends back then.
“Do you like him or something?” Nicky asked, changing the subject back to Connor.
“It’s not like that,” I said. “We’re friends. We’ve just hung out a few times.”
“Define a few,” she said, knowing I was holding back.
“Every day this week,” I mumbled, taking a long drink of my latte.
“She is gonna be pissed when you steal her boyfriend,” Nicky said, shaking her head as I refused to dignify her statement with a response.
***
Surf’s Up!
“Welcome to South Shore,” Luke said, looking up from the magazine he was reading at the counter.
“Hey Luke,” I said, as I walked into work Thursday after school.
My arrival was accompanied by the front door chime the owner Larry, a perpetual beach bum, had instaled. He wasn’t a fan of the traditional ding! that most stores had, so he’d instaled one that was more his style.
“Oh, hey Abby,” Luke said, somewhat disappointed.
“It’s lovely to see you too, Luke,” I said, as I stashed my bag behind the counter and put on my name badge.
South Shore didn’t have a dress code, per say, but Larry asked that we al dress ‘beachy’ and wear our names on miniature surfboards around our necks, so the customers knew who they could ask for
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