The Boy Who Lives In My Garage > jariana (COMPLETED)

thirteen

When I get up on Saturday morning—okay, Saturday afternoon—I go downstairs. Since my parents don't shoot me or say anything besides "good morning" from behind their laptops, I assume Justin made it out of the house unnoticed. He must have learned the Third Step Rule.

When I sneak out to the garage, Justin isn't there. Even though I'm disappointed, I'm not surprised. It's the middle of the day, so he's probably out watching movies or walking around the mall.

Most of my day is spent in bed, sleeping and watching reality TV. At one point I'm bored enough that I get up and clean my room, proudly showing it off to my mom.

"Very nice," she says as she surveys my work. "I'd forgotten what color your carpet was. But if you think this is going to end your grounding early, you've got another think coming."

Talk about a complete and total waste of time.

Saturday night, Rosalinda goes to a party. I play the "grounded" card again, but really I want to hang out with Justin. We don't have an agreement that he'll be in my garage tonight, but I know he will be.

After the first bed check, I sneak downstairs. Sure enough, Justin is there. When I see him, I smile so hard my face hurts. It would be nice if I could say that we spent a few hours deep in conversation, where Justin revealed all of his secrets and I revealed all of mine. But that would be a lie. No, we spend a few hours making out. There may have been a little bit of talking, but not much. Even with the cold garage and the hard cement floor, it's perfect.

I try to convince Justin to come upstairs again, but he refuses. Something about how he didn't have time to process the potential consequences the night before, but now he's had time, and he's not willing to take the risk. He says we can try again after bed checks have bit the bullet, and I can't wait for that to be the case.

On Sunday, Mom and Dad go to some all-day golf event for Dad's firm. Mom's never swung a golf club in her life, so I don't really understand what she's going to do all day, but I don't ask questions. I'm planning on spending the afternoon with Rosalinda and Misty. With my parents out of the picture, the only thing stopping me is my sister. Instead of being out with friends or watching awesomely awful made-for-TV movies, Alyssa is on the couch doing homework. The fact that we are related feels like a complete lie.

"Hey," I say, walking into the den, already wearing my coat and shoes.

She raises her eyebrows at me before looking back at the book in her lap. "Hey."

"So...what's it going to take for you to cover for me? Tell Mom and Dad I've been upstairs in my room all day?"

"Nothing." For a split second, I'm excited. But then I remember if something sounds too good to be true... She continues, "I'm not going to lie to Mom and Dad."

I flip my bangs away from my face. "Come on, Alyssa. I'll pay you."

She snorts. "With what money?"

It's a good point. "I'll clean your room for a month."

Alyssa doesn't even justify that one with a verbal response, just rolls her eyes and goes back to the book.

"Three months?"

This time, she doesn't bother looking up.

I clench my fists, trying to keep frustration at bay. "Come on. There's gotta be something you want. It'll just be a little white lie. Who knows? Maybe Mom and Dad won't even ask if I've been home all day and you won't have to lie."

Alyssa's pen stops moving across the page. I wait, knowing I've said the right thing. At this point I don't care what she asks for. I'll say yes. I'm feeling claustrophobic and need to get out of this house.