Dork Diaries: Next Generation

Cute Boys?

"So... Are there any cute boys?" Bri asks, flopping down with a bounce on my bed. She's my aunt, but she says that makes her sound old. She prefers Bri or Brianna rather than Auntie Bri.

"Yeah, are there any cute boys?" Mom asks, mimicking Bri's movements.

"Yeah. Are there any cute boys?" Pop-pop asks, not really amused by the subject, jumping on top of me instead of next to Mom.

"Wouldn't you like to know," I respond, my voice being muffled from Pop-pop's shirt.

"Well, of course! We wouldn't have asked if we didn't want to know!" Bri squeals.

Pop-pop moves and lies next to Mom, his head set atop of his fists, looking up at me like a child listening to a legend of some knight in shining armor.

"We're waiting," Pop-pop sighs.

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Yes, there are cute boys, many of which I'm not interested in. You're welcome, Pop-pop," I say then hold up the magazine I was reading back up to my face. Pop-pop snatches it away and throws it across my room. "Hey! Pop-pop! I was reading that!"

"Yeah, but you're hiding something behind that book, and I'm trying to see what it is."

"Yeah, you're right. I was staring at a picture of myself." I pick up my magazine from off the floor and show him my back-to-school pictures that were now published.

He purses his lips and narrows his eyes, his facial expression screaming that he still didn't believe me.

I arch an eyebrow and shake my head in disbelief. I haven't known anyone long enough to actually like someone. How could I have a crush just like that? And if you suggest love at first sight, I'm going to put a hand to your forehead and smack some sense into it. I'll believe it when I see it.

"I think somebody has a crush," Bri suggests, wriggling her eyebrows playfully.

"Yeah, who is the lucky guy?" Mom asks.

"Oh my God, Mom. It's no one, I swear!" I yell in exasperation. Then our butler, Bob, tells us that we have a visitor at the gate to enter our mansion's round-about drive way. Oh God, who is it now?

Pop-pop jumps up from my bed and runs out of my room yelling, "I'll get it!"

Sometimes I wonder if my parents ever actually grew up. They all act like teenagers.

I get up out of curiosity and march downstairs myself. When I reach the front doors, Rick is there. He pauses in the middle of a sentence, and looks at me. My eyes widen, and I pretend not to notice that he's there by turning around and trying to head towards the kitchen.

The jerkwad calls my name, and I pause in my tracks.

"Brandy, hey! I was just asking your dad if I can take you out," he says, a huge smile spread across his face.

I walk to the front door and stand next to my dad in front of the barely opened door.

"Pop-pop, don't be rude. Let him in the house. He's not going to steal anything." I slap his shoulder and push him a little to the side so I could open the door.

We walk to the living room where Mom and Bri were now waiting.

"I thought you said there was no lucky guy," Mom states, and eyebrow raised in suspicion. I face-palm myself.

"At least she wasn't lying when she said there were cute boys, but I have to say otherwise when she said she didn't have a crush," Bri giggles.

"For the umpteenth time, guys, I don't have a crush on anyone!" I mutter.