The Boy Next Door

Chapter One

The furry green ball fell back to my hands as gravity pulled it towards me; as I caught it, I securely gripped it before throwing it back up.

I had been lying on my bed doing this for the past hour since arguing with my mum. God, she did grind on me at the best of times. And it had quickly and unexpectedly become the norm. Everyday.

Since my sixteenth birthday was on a lame Thursday, consisting of my last two GCSE exams and a take-out with the parents, I wanted to go out with my friends. But no, she had other ideas of me babysitting my irritating little sister so she and Dad could go and enjoy their Friday night down the pub.

After two weeks of constant revision and back-to-back tests, having to sit in my most hated place on earth, I should be the one letting loose. But no.

What's worse, instead of starting summer early, Mum signed me up for A-level taster classes for the next few weeks. Yeah, that's right, I had no say in the matter.

Sixteen and treated like a six-year-old.

And by my annoyance, you can tell this overbearing, you-can't-have-a-life parental lifestyle choice is a reoccurring, pain-in-the-ass routine.

I didn't know why I expected anything different, even if it was my birthday weekend. It was as if I was being punished for something, being a teenager perhaps. And because of it, I was as lame as a teenager could be.

All my friends stayed out until the street lamps came on. Not me; I'm watching them turn on from my bedroom window. Jealous of the piled bikes on the front lawns.

Katie and Hannah had gone to the cinema and sneaked into the new R-rated film. With their push-up bras, slim figures, and pretty faces, which was something I had not yet been blessed with. I wouldn't have passed for eighteen anyway; I was the opposite.

Puppy fat still hung on my belly and hips, and I was baby-faced compared to the others. Even with maturing earlier than all the other girls, I still hadn't had a boyfriend nor experienced my first kiss.

No boy had ever given me a second glance.

I was a walking teenage body full of innocence, a complete plain Jane waiting for, well, I didn't know what I was waiting for. Anything had to be better than my boring life so far.

My phone pinged. I picked up my Nokia 1100 and read another text message from Sophie. The plans had changed. Instead of going to hers, a group of our friends were heading to a popular boy's house. They were pitching tents in his garden and getting his older brother to buy them alcohol while their parents were away. It was the first time I had received an invite to a house party. Mum wouldn't let me out to Sophie's, let alone a boy's house. I had to admit defeat and miss out on another fun weekend. But I wasn't going to accept it without a fight.

With my parent's strict rules and busy weekends destroying any chance of my social life blooming, Mum couldn't blame me for my frustration and adolescent hormone-filled outbursts.

I cn't come. I ave to babysit my stpd sis agen, soz. I texted Sophie in the most slang form to avoid wasting my credit. Another thing Mum had control of. No weekend job for me meant limited pocket money. I had to make my credit last me as long as possible, but I guess babysitting had some benefits; I'd have more credit tomorrow.

Agen? Ur rents r so lame. Ur nva out @ the wkd. Tht boy u like is going 2. she texted me back.

"Argh. Mum!" I screeched, throwing the ball across the room as I stood and stormed across the hall into hers. "Everyone is going out. All my friends are going to a party and camping in a garden. Please let me go. Call a babysitter."

Mum looked into the mirror back at me and continued putting on her mascara, giving me an irritated sigh. "We have already had this discussion, young lady. You are staying home tonight with your sister," she muttered. "Plus, there is no way your dad would let you sleep in someone's garden with god knows who. Especially with no parents around. You're only sixteen."

I shook my head. "Exactly, I'm sixteen, and it was my birthday yesterday. Why can't you loosen the reigns for one weekend so I can celebrate it like a normal teenager?" I growled, stamping my foot.

Mum stopped, slammed down her mascara and looked at me, "It's a no, Ashley."

"Argh, I hate you; all you do is ruin my life," I shouted, punching the air beside me before leaving the room.

"You'll thank me one day," I heard her shout as I slammed my bedroom door.

Muttering to myself, I angrily took my Pink disc case and shoved the CD into my stereo, turning it so loud that it hurt my ears.

Slumped into the chair at my desk, I roughly turned each Smash Hit magazine page. It took around five seconds for me to slam the magazine shut. The skinny, pretty images of Britney and Christina didn't help my mood, not that they ever did.

In hindsight, I hated the magazines and only subscribed because of Lauren and Sophie. They were the ones who liked celebrity fashion and gossip, but I didn't mind the freebies. I got a Yorkie bar with the last one, you know, the ones that aren't for girls. I ate it anyway, and it's no doubt why I'll never be as skinny as those printed on the pages.

My phone didn't stop pinging for fifteen minutes, continuous texts asking if Mum had changed her mind. In the end, I turned my phone off to stop the torture and the niggling in my thumb from having to press the buttons so many times to form a simple word. Not that it helped; I knew the photos uploaded on Myspace later would send me into more of a huff. By nine-thirty a.m., after hearing the kiss and tell stories, jealousy would consume me; it always did.

God, I hated having strict parents; if they had anything to do with it, I'd be in my twenties by the time I experienced my first kiss.