Living With Hotties (Finished!)

My Story

"So, what are we going to do today?" Chris asks. "Oh, and sorry if I overstepped last night."

"'Overstepped'?" I repeat, confused. "How would you have overstepped last night?"

"You know," he says, kind of awkwardly. "When I, you know, kissed you, uh, on the cheek?"

"Oh, that," I remember with a laugh. "Actually, I thought it was kinda sweet."

"So, I didn't overstep any boundaries?" he asks, almost hopefully.

"I mean, it wasn't exactly professional," I tease. "But we never really established any boundaries. So, how can you overstep something that was never there in the first place?"

"Good point," he tells me, shrugging. "So, what are we doing today?"

"Well, I actually already have plans," I admit, sort of feeling bad. "Sorry."

"And they are?" he questions.

"Skateboarding in the park," I explain. "With a friend."

"Let me guess," he chuckles. "The delivery guy."

"His name is Lucas," I laugh. "And yes. He's going to pick me up at 4."

"Well, it's 3:30," he points out. "So, you might want to shower and change."

"Oh, crap," I say, face palming myself. "I don't even have time to shower!"

I run off to my room, wipe off, then start getting dressed. I throw on a white tank top and some short jean shorts. I slip on some brown loafers, do my makeup- just some eyeliner, mascara, and peachy lip gloss- and walk back into the living room.

"So, Chris" I start, entering the room. "How do I look?"

"Woah," a voice gasps.

I turn, surprised, to see Lucas, sitting right next to Chris on the sofa. He's wearing a white tee, an unbuttoned, short sleeve, blue and white plaid button up over it, white shorts, and worn out blue vans. He had gold aviator shades, but they were resting on top of his head.

Damn, he looks good. Wait- what is he doing in here? Did he ring the doorbell? Or maybe he just knocked and that's why Chris heard it but I didn't.

"Oh," I say, suddenly turning shy. "H-hi Lucas."

"Hey," he smiles, speaking softly. "You look, really, really good. I mean, I know you asked Chris, but-"

"No, no," Chris interrupts. "Chris has the same opinion. I mean, I would've used only one 'really' though."

"Wow," I say, rolling my eyes. "Thanks Chris."

"You're very welcome," he tells me, completely seriously. "Oh, and your date's here."

"One, I can see that," I point out, pointing at Lucas. "Two, I was being sarcastic when I thanked you. And three, I don't know if it's a date or not."

"It can be if you want it to be," Lucas offers, almost hopefully.

"He he, 'kay" I giggle.

"Well, you two have a good time," Chris sighs, standing up, clapping his hands, and rubbing them together- almost like he's assuming the dad position.

Uh oh.

"And you," he says, clapping Lucas on the shoulder, almost making him jump. "Treat her right, use your manners, and have her back before midnight."

"Uh, yes, yes sir," Lucas stutters nervously.

He's soo cute.

"Leave him alone, Chris," I warn. "And Lucas, let me go get my board. I'll be back in a sec."

I run back to my room and grab my skateboard, which is leaned up against the wall, right by my door. It's a plain Jane ole skateboard, but it's mine and has been since I was thirteen. I rush back into the living room and Lucas and I walk out. We walk down all three flights of stairs to his truck in the parking lot. He went to hold my hand at least four times before I reached out and grabbed his hand, smiling softly when he looked up at me. His truck is a cool-looking, turquoise blue, 2014 Chevrolet Silverado.

"Nice truck," I admire.

"Thanks, it's a 20-" he starts.

"A 2014 Chevrolet Silverado," I finish.

"Yeah," he says, surprised. "How'd you know."

"My dad was a mechanic," I explain. "He used to let me help him and teach me about cars and trucks. Said I should know more than most men cause it'll intimidate the boys and weed them from the real men."

"Nice," he laughs. "Well, I'm not intimidated. So does that mean I'm a real man."

"Eh, we'll see," I tease.

He laughs, then we start for the skate park. We walk along 5th Avenue instead of skateboarding, since there isn't much room on the sidewalk with the other people coming. We go past 103rd Street, Lucas taking my hand before we cross- which makes me smile. We walk past the New York City Museum and turn right onto the sidewalks of 104th Street, swinging our hands between us as we walk.

"So, Sam," Lucas starts. "Tell me about yourself."

"Well, I'm 18, my full name is Sam Elizabeth Taylor," I begin. "Everyone calls me 'Blondie'- except for the boys. They call me 'Princess', or 'Her Royal Highness' when they're mad. I wa-"

"Wait," Lucas stops me. "Who are 'the boys' exactly?"

Oh boy. I can tell where this is going to go.

"The boys I share that apartment with," I tell him.

"And are you and any of them....." he asks, not wanting to finish his question.

"Together?" I assume, laughing when he nods. "Nah. Unless you count acting like their girlfriend to get girls to leave them alone as being together."

"Oh," he says, almost sounding relieved. "I was just wondering. Please, continue."

"Right," I laugh, trying to remember where I left off. "Oh! I was born September 12th of 1998. My best friend since almost forever is Cailey O'Connor. She's a brunette and is also 18, but she was born in '99. We run a blog together called 'The Life Of A Blondie'."

"Sweet," he admires.

"Yeah. My mom's name is Sandra," I continue. "But everyone either calls her 'Sandy' or 'Ma Taylor'. She's the one I got my blonde hair, blue eyes, and extrovertedness from. My ex-dad is Thomas, or 'Tom' as everyone calls him. His last name is Nelson now, though. He's the one I got my tan skin, tallness, and stubbornness from. He taught me how to tear apart and put back together all kinds of cars, trucks, boats, and even a tractor and a four wheeler."

"That's actually really impressive," he tells me as we pass a basketball court.

"Aye, Lucas!" someone calls out from the court.

Lucas looks at me apologizingly, making me smile, and we walk over to see who it is. A tall, pale, brown-haired boy with almost the same build as Lucas walks over to the fence. Lucas recognizes him immediately- and doesn't look very happy about who it is.

Uh oh.