Ten Too Many Boys ***Old Version!!!***

Chapter Two: Meeting the Monsters

I am almost back to the house when I slow down to tug my Converse and socks off. Otherwise I might explode with excitement.

I hop along, tugging at them with my tongue poking out the side of my mouth, a little habit I have. I hop into the view of the pool when I lose my balance.

With a loud "waaaAAAAAAA!!" The ground and I become very intimately aquatinted.

Little giggles float through the air, coming from the direction of the pool. Turning, I see a small blonde head with curious brown eyes peeking over the side of the pool. His little face has yet to lose it's baby fat. He looks like he may be the youngest of the boys. George? Was that his name? I make a mental note to look at my journal later.

I grin and salute to him from my spot on the ground. With one chubby hand he salutes back, still grinning toothily.

Gathering my dignity and my shoes, I take off toward the house to dump off my stuff and avoid the rest of the boy's stares.

I skid to a halt on the porch, throwing my shoes on the wooden steps with a clatter. I holler for Molly, then impatiently tap my foot as I wait for her.

After a moment of waiting I dig my journal out of my bag to see who the is youngest. Yep. George.

Molly walks into view from the back of the house. I stop to grin and wave. She waves back before walking up alongside me. "Come on and meet everyone honey." I may be honey but I sure as hell bet they aren't.

I shyly walk into view behind Molly just as she's introduces me. "Boys, this is Max. She will be staying with us for a while."

Nobody moves and the only noise is water splashing against the pool side. To break the silence I wave at them with a quiet greeting. "Hi."

All their staring is getting awkward and I shift my feet nervously.

Then one of the older guys swims forward to heave himself out of the pool, making his biceps flex.

Asshole.

He runs a hand through his dark, chestnut hair. It curls delicately around his eyes, which gleam like the water's depths.

His shirt is off, revealing a lean, very dark tan, muscled chest, but I impulsively glance once, keeping my expression neutral.

I won't give him the satisfaction when he's intently watching me. My friends probably would have dropped dead at the sight of him, even though I'm trying very hard not to.

He looks at me and I can see the gears turning in his mind. He probably expects me to start drooling over him or drop down and bow at his feet.

He shakes his head, ridding it of water  and breaking the weird little trance thing that was going on.

He ignores me as he turns to address his mother. "Where is she gonna sleep? I, for one, am not willing to share a room."

"Are you sure about that?" I ask, crossing my arms with a smug look.

His cheeks become slightly pink as he glares at me. "No." He practically spits out the word, like I disgust him just by standing here. The irritation in his voice makes me smirk.

There are agreeing choruses from the other boys still in the pool.

Molly gives the boys a sharp look. "Don't you fret children. We have room for her."

"Where?" He asks quickly. Too quickly.

"The old storage room." She replies without any hesitation or regard for their reactions.