The Boy Next Door

Authors Note-

Um...this is the first story that I've written. Please tell me if you like it:)

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"Ali!" my mother yelled from our kitchen downstairs.

"What do you want mother?!" I rolled out of bed and started down the stairs.

"The weirdo next door finally sold her house!"my sister, Hannah, squealed as she burst through my bedroom door.

"Get out and don't come in unless I let you!" I commanded, and then rethought my order. I opened up my dark red door and yelled,"Who are the new neighbors?"

"Maybe you would know if you didn't spend all day in your room writing stories, or whatever you do in that journal." Hannah taunted and I instinctively grabbed my black leather song journal from under my pillow.

"How do you know about this?!" I demanded.

She twirled her hair playfully and replied, " You'd be surprised by what I know." I groaned, she was thirteen why did she still act like she was four. Luckily this would be my last year stuck inthis mad house with my single mom, Rose and little sister. But then again it would be my last year in this glorious house. My mom had made our family move from New York to California when she and my dad divorced. Since she was a lawyer she could afford almost every house on the market. So of course she headed for the biggest houses available.

We had a full scale mansion complete with three pristine white floors. The first floor contained an open foyer with a white fire place, kitchen, and five bedrooms, two of which my mother and sister occupied. The second floor was my own. I has painted the walls different colors and wrote quotes that matched every color. My room was maroon. A black bed was placed in a corner facing my desk, an elevator leading to the rooftop, and a large walk in closet which was filled with clothes from every color in the rainbow, even though I rarely wore anything other than black t-shirts and jeans. Then there was my favorite place in the house, on the roof top there was a small balcony that outlined the top of the mansion. I had decorated it with lanterns, a porch swing, coffee table, a small couch, and a piano. That was where I usually spent time writing my songs. I have to say that most of my songs were pretty good, good enough to make me famous good. All I need was someone to play guitar. I had put flyers up around the neighborhood, all of which were ripped down and replaced by local party posters, and had asked around school. Apperantly no one in this town was intrested in music like I was. I would do it myself but you can't really play guitar and piano at the same time. I had yet to find someone who had come remotely close to touching a guitar, but when I did, my life would be complete.

I sighed, headed toward my closet, and picked out my clothes. After rummaging through a pile of clothes I decided on a black floral summer dress, white tights, and black wedge heels. I searched through my drawers and found my denim shoulder bag. I threw my song jounal in the bag along with a tube of lip gloss. I slid down the staircase banister right into my mother, who was carring a large basket full of muffins.

"Alexandra! What is wrong with you?! Why can't you just pay a little more attention to everything that goes on around here?!", I rolled my eyes and jumped off the banister.

"Maybe I would if you payed a little more attention to me." I walked past her toward the door that lead outside.

"Where are you going?"she demanded. I gritted my teeth and turned to face her.

"I want. To go. Meet the neighbors. Is that okay with you?" I asked annoyed.

"Only if you take these."she replied as sickly sweet as always, handing me the basket. I groaned and shuffled out the door and into the bright sunny summer day. I hated Los Angeles. As I made my way accross my massive lawn and on to the neighbors property. When I arrived at their door the movers had finished clearing the van and began driving away, better late than never I thought, ringing the door bell. It was answered by a teenage girl, about Hannah's age, with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing a bright pink sweat suit.