“The Blockbuster guy isn’t so bad,” I said, thinking of him and sighing.
“Yeah, but he’s in college,” she said with an equally wistful sigh. “No one we know is that dreamy.”
“Well, there might be someone new this year,” I said mysteriously, realizing I had some of my own intel to share with her.
“Ooooh, spill,” she said, taking a sip from her red cup.
“I was babysitting for Mrs. Stevenson last month, and the realtor showed up with someone to see the house. I totally forgot to tell you because of all the Jenn drama.”
Lilly rolled her eyes. She was very vocal about how much she did not like my sister. Actually, I think it was more Erin, my sister’s best friend, who she didn’t like. With Lilly, it was sometimes hard to keep track.
“Their son was our age,” I went on. “And hot.”
She raised her eyebrows doubtfully.
“Hot like the way you thought our chemistry teacher last year was hot?”
My ears burned red. Of course she’d remind me of that.
“I never said Mr. Peterson was hot,” I protested. “I just said he must have been handsome back in the day. I don’t think 60-year-old men are hot.”
“What about 60-year-old women?” she said with a giggle. Her next-door neighbor Mrs. Kuguar was out on her deck with her much younger husband eating dinner. She was actually pretty nice and never complained about the noise from our parties. I don’t think she was really 60, but she was older than our moms and definitely older than her husband. We were a little obsessed with her, to be honest.
“I mean, she can’t be that old, can she?” We’d had this discussion a hundred times. It never seemed to get old. Unlike her. “He’s like what, 25? 30?”
“I think he was in the class above my cousin, Charlie,” she said. We were both staring now.
“Okay, do you want to stare at him all night or hear about the actual hottie that I met?”
“Right! Go on.” She turned back to me, her blue eyes excited.
“So it sounded like his parents really liked the house,” I said, leaning back in the deck chair. “He said they’d seen tons of houses, but it was their second visit to see it. That’s a good sign, right?”
Lilly’s dad was a real estate agent. She nodded thoughtfully, then stopped and tilted her head slightly.
“You talked to him that much?” she asked. “And you talked real estate?”
“Well, no, we talked about getting our driver’s licenses,” I shrugged.
Her eyes widened.
“What was I supposed to talk about?” I threw up my hands.
“Gee, I don’t know. Music? Movies? Anything normal?”
I sighed.
“Well, I’ll have another chance once they move in.”
“If they move in,” she said with a sigh that matched my own in its hopelessness.
We looked around at the crowded backyard at our options for the next two years. It wasn’t completely hopeless, but they sure weren’t Mr. Kuguar or Mr. Blockbuster. And they definitely weren’t Mr. Potential New Neighbor.
Lilly burst into my room two days later without knocking.
“You were right!” she said excitedly hurrying me over to the window. “They’re moving in! And he is definitely hot. You are hereby forgiven for the old man crush.”
We stared out of my side window that had a perfect view of the six houses on the other side of the street. There was a giant moving truck parked in front of Mrs. Stevenson’s house. I could see him handing down chairs to a man I assumed must be his father. They had the same soft, dark hair. A little girl and boy were also in the truck playing with empty boxes.
“I call babysitting dibs!” I shouted.
“Not fair!” cried Lilly. We had the Drive divided pretty evenly between the two of us. It didn’t matter that there were other girls around our age who could do it. We’d read all the Babysitter club books when we were 10 and had started pitching out services the second we turned 13. We had the whole street under exclusive contract.
We continued to watch him unload, emitting a coordinated squeal when he took off his shirt in the August heat, and groans when his father followed suit.
“Come on, let’s go introduce ourselves,” she said, tugging me away from the window.
“What?” I looked down at my cut off shorts and my latest Hot Topic t-shirt score with my favorite band. Not terrible, but not exactly the best first impression. Well, second impression, technically. If he even remembered me after our three-minute non-conversation from over a month ago. What had I even been wearing that day? Something stained from giving lunch to Emily, probably.
Lilly was, of course, in her typical flowery peasant top and patchwork jeans and looked amazing. It was a wonder our teachers confused us, really, when our styles were so different. She was always begging me to try new things. She’d lend me her clothes sometimes when I couldn’t afford the newest trends; which was pretty much always. Her babysitting money stretched a lot further thanks to her mom’s help.
“My mom was talking about making them banana bread or something,” she said, already heading out the door. “We can offer to bring it over.”
I hesitated, wanting to change, to fix my hair, to do something, anything to make sure I stood out. Sure, I’d already met him, already talked to him even, but that was before I knew he’d actually be my neighbor. And now I had to go talk to him standing next to Lilly.
“Leah! Are you coming or not?” She was already at the bottom of the stairs.
I sighed and grabbed my sunglasses. I would try to go for mysterious and cool to counterbalance Lilly’s pretty and sunny.
While waiting for Lilly’s mom to finish the banana bread, we discussed the plan.
How would we get inside? We’d offer to help bring out empty boxes.
If he wasn’t home, what would we do? We’d go back the next day to pick up the pan.
We always had a plan. It’s one of the reasons we stayed friends past the Polly Pocket years. I’d think of everything that could go wrong and Lilly figured out a way to make it work.
Luckily, as we finally made our way down the Drive with the late summer sun beating down on us, we saw him standing in the front yard throwing a ball to his little brother. No need for plans B through G.
We walked over slowly and waved. Well, Lilly waved. I had been told to carry the banana bread. Now I knew why.
“Welcome to Mountain Creek Drive,” we said in chorus as we reached the blue fence that lined their wide front yard.
He stopped throwing the ball and looked back and forth between us, his lips trying to hold back a smile. I tried to hold back my own when I saw his t-shirt was one of my favorite bands. Did I actually have something in common with him?
“Are you sisters?”
We shook our heads, again in unison. Ugh.
“I’m Lilly, and this is Leah.”
“I’m Matt, and this is Josh,” his younger brother said cheerfully with a gap-toothed smile. He was probably about five or six, and his dark blond hair was long and messy. They had the same intense green eyes though. “We’re brothers.”
We all laughed, awkwardly for me, brightly for Leah, and deep and rumbling for Josh. I shifted the pan uneasily in my hands. It was still a little warm.
“Is that cake for us?” said Matt, coming over to the fence and peeking his head over.
“Yes, I made it,” said Lilly. I glanced at her, an eyebrow raised, and she cleared her throat. “I mean I helped my mom make it.”
Josh came over to take it from me and went to set it on the front porch where several chairs and boxes were stacked. I guess he was in charge of keeping Matt entertained while his parents unpacked.
“Hey, you were at this house when we visited, right? Babysitting?” Josh said when he came back over. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and leaned against the fence. Matt stayed at the door leaving the football discarded in the yard. The fresh-baked goods were apparently much m
ore interesting.
I flushed and nodded.
Despite his question being directed at me, he was definitely looking more at Lilly. And who wouldn’t? She was one of the prettiest and nicest girls in our grade, not to mention the hot tub. The one thing that kept me from going into a total jealous meltdown was that she was a little too much of a band geek to really be that popular. We had yet to discover how important that would be to him. But the pretty thing - that couldn’t be denied.
“How are you liking Marlowe Junction so far?” asked Lilly. I tried not to roll my eyes. Not the most original question. We’d agreed on alternating who was talking, however, in order to keep it fair. Our plans were nothing if not incredibly detailed.
He shrugged.
“It’s only been a few hours,” he said. “So far, it seems okay.”
“Do you think you’ll miss Denver?” I asked. Without the pan to hold, I held my hands awkwardly behind my back. Now, Lilly tossed me her own glare. I was using inside information. Not exactly fair, but I figured my boring outfit deserved a little help.
He shrugged again. I noticed once more how broad his shoulders were. Had he grown in the month since I’d first met him?
“We were kinda far outside the city,” he said. “It was pretty much like any other suburb.”
“Why’d you move?” Lilly asked.
“The commute was just too much for my dad. He works closer to Boulder. And they said the schools are better here.”
“Oh yeah, we have great schools,” Lilly said. “Sports and band and everything are great at Rosemark. We have over thirty different clubs and activities.”
She skipped me! I bit my lip to avoid pouting. Oh, this was so stupid. Who cares who talks more? Like it even matters if she’s just going to sound like a boring real estate agent.
“Do you play anything?” I asked.
“Receiver,” he said as Matt came back over. He’d managed to stuff three pieces of banana bread into his mouth in about three minutes. He tossed the ball to his brother. It went back and forth a few times. Josh was very attentive with him. There may not be a need to offer my babysitting services.
Lilly shot me a quick glance while they were throwing the ball.
A football player! She mouthed, her smile big and eyes wide. My guess when I’d first met him had been right. All that listening to Jenn babble about the jocks to her friends had imbued me with some sort of weird sport detector ability.
“And you sing!” said Matt, finally swallowing the food in his mouth. “He used to sing me lullabies before he got too old for baby songs.”
Well, that was unexpected. Lilly glanced my way, eyebrow slightly arched.
Josh had not expected that either, apparently, and threw the ball over his brother’s head all the way across the yard. Matt stuck his tongue out and ran after it.
“It’s nothing, really,” he said, turning to us, his cheeks tinged with red. “Just something I did when I was younger.”
“Lots of people do both music and sports at Rosemark,” said Lilly. This was technically true. Lots of people on the cross-country and swim teams were in band or choir. But football was pretty intense. I didn’t know anyone who did both.
He looked pleased, however, so I didn’t say anything.
“It wasn’t really like that where I was before,” he said. “That could be cool; to try to do both. It’s not like I’ll be getting into college by playing ball.”
“No scouts have been to see you play?”
He raised an inquisitive eyebrow and shook his head.
“My sister plays soccer,” I said by way of explanation. “She’s always complaining how it’s so much easier to get scouted in football than soccer. She’s been to soccer camp the past three summers, and her coach is always trying to get her into the leagues she needs in order to be seen by the recruiters. In football, they come to you.”
“Well, no one is coming to see me play, trust me,” he said with a laugh. I felt a sudden lightness in my chest. He had a great laugh. “Do you guys play sports or anything?”
“I’m first chair clarinet in band,” said Lilly, barely concealing her pride. Auditions had been at the end of last year and she was going to be the only junior in the advanced band.
They both turned to me and I looked down, shaking my head. I had never really cared that I didn’t have any afterschool activities. Until now.
“You’re not in choir or anything?” Josh asked. “But I heard you singing that day at the house.”
I felt my face turn beet red. Lilly looked at me, brows furrowed.
“I didn’t realize you’d heard that,” I said, my eyes focused on my feet. My favorite teal chucks were looking a little worn. “I was just trying to calm Emily down. She liked it when I sang.”
“The baby monitor was on,” he said with a soft smile. “You were really good.”
“I tell her all the time, and she never listens,” scolded Lilly. I cast a sideways glance her way. This was sort of true. She had said it once or twice in the past, and I hadn’t really given joining choir much thought. Music was her thing. I saw how much time she spent at practices and concerts and private lessons. I didn’t think I could really do that. I just liked singing silly songs to the kids I babysat for.
A voice from inside the house called to Josh and Matt.
“I gotta go,” he said, waving for his brother to come inside as well. “It was nice to meet you both. I’ll see you around?”
“Sure,” we said in unison again, and I barely stopped a groan from escaping.
His lips quirked up, like he was trying not to smile again, and he headed into the house with a wave.
“Wow,” breathed Lilly, as we turned to head back home.
“Yeah.” What else could we say? A hot, singing, football-playing god had moved in down the street. The rest of the summer looked like it was going to be a lot more interesting.
Chapter Three
Some families - and by that I mean Lilly’s and a few other friends whose families I’ve had dinner with - have very interesting meals. Spicy chicken entrees, fresh rolls, beans mixed with bacon, homemade sauces.
The Coopers had Macaroni and Cheese Mondays, Tuna Fish Tuesdays, Shake and Bake Wednesdays, Taco Thursdays, Pizza Fridays, and Spaghetti Saturdays. Sunday was leftovers. Between their jobs and Jenn’s practices, having a set schedule really helped my parents. And since I was usually the one to start dinner before they got home, I appreciated not having to figure out a menu from nothing. But sometimes it was a little boring.
“So did you see someone moved into the Stevenson house?” my mom said to my dad one night over dinner.
He nodded, his mouth full of Saturday night spaghetti.
“I’ll have to go over tomorrow and bring them some banana bread,” she said, twirling her pasta on her fork expertly. It was kind of a tradition on the Drive that new families got banana bread.
“Lilly’s mom already made them some,” I said. “We brought it over yesterday afternoon.”
Her mouth twisted briefly into a frown before she smoothed it back to a neutral expression. Something had happened between my mom and Lilly’s that we didn’t know much about, but I think it all started when Mrs. Jansen stopped working at her office job about two years ago. It was like my mom felt betrayed that one of the only other working moms on the Drive had surrendered to a life of domesticity. She hadn’t really - the baking was actually what she really loved and she was trying to sell it when she could. I’d heard my mom grumbling about the wasted potential of brilliant lawyers a few times, yet she was more than willing to buy Mrs. Jansen’s pies at every school bake sale. Recently, she had started telling Jenn and I how very proud she was that her daughters were going to go to college and have long, happy careers. No pressure or anything.
“Well I’ll just have to think of something else to bring over,” she said, chewing thoughtfully.
“They have two little kids,” I said helpfully. “So cookies would probably
be good.”
“They have a kid our age, too,” said Luke. “A guy. That’s why you and Lilly went over.”
I blushed and shot him a questioning look. I hadn’t realized he’d seen us. I never knew where he was these days, so he might have been lurking anywhere. Though, to be fair, we’d been so focused on Josh, he could have been standing right behind us dancing in the street naked and we wouldn’t have noticed.
“Oh, well isn’t that nice,” said my mom. I waited to see if there was more. Lilly’s mom had talked to us excitedly about the new boy while we were baking with her, giggling about her own high school crushes. She kept telling us to “have fun” and “knock his socks off” which made us laugh.
My mom didn’t say anything else about him. She was pretty hands-off about my love life (or lack thereof). I’m sure Lilly had gotten tons of annoying questions from her mom the previous night which I was happy to avoid, but it would have been nice to have at least a little interest.
“Where’s Jenn tonight?” asked my dad, suddenly looking around the table and realizing she wasn’t there. He looked tired. His job as a litigations lawyer usually kept him in the office on Saturdays. My mom was the general counsel for a local non-profit. The hours were a little better than Dad’s, but she also did a bunch of pro bono work for the city.
“She’s out with Mark Richmond,” said my mom with a proud smile. I sighed. She cared about Jenn’s boyfriends. When Ryan had broken up with her, she’d taken her to the spa for the day. The one time I’d asked my mom to get a manicure with me, she’d spent twenty minutes lecturing me on the dangers of buying into the unrealistic expectations society placed on women.
“Mark is a tool,” said Luke.
I snickered. He wasn’t wrong. He gave me a look that reminded me of how close we’d once been in our united front against all things Jenn.
“Luke, language, please,” said my mom, smoothing her blouse and looking around as if we were expecting the queen at any moment. “What did you get up to today?”
Leah's Song Page 2