Chapter 1|| What the actual Fudge? Riley POV.
"Mario wins again!"
I watch through narrowed eyes as my eight year old brother catapults around the room in victory, lifting his shirt over his head to reveal his pale torso. What is it with boys and showing their chest when they win something? Is it some warped form of dominance display, originated from our monkey ancestors? I snort unattractively at the thought, before rolling my eyes at my loopy brother. My hands dart out to trap his waist in my grasp, and I pull him to my lap to tickle him. "You wish, little brother," I tease him playfully; "We all know I kicked your ass on the other games."
Jack squirms hastily to free himself from my torturous hold, shooting me a look as he does so. I smile smugly in return: Yoshi always wins and he knows it.
"Riley, come down here please!" Mom shouts from downstairs, releasing a small sigh from me. Reluctantly, I swing my legs from my comfy spot in the bean bag and follow my brother downstairs, knowing full well that by the time my aching legs have gotten back up here, he will have stolen my place. Ugh, sibling rivalry. As soon as I've entered the kitchen, I'm hit with the heart-warmingly familiar aroma that is mom's cooking. She's always loved to bake and I've always loved caffeine, therefore totalling in a kitchen that constantly smells like the interior of a Starbucks store. Not that I'm complaining, honestly.
I turn to mom herself, who's icing a batch of white chocolate cupcakes at the moment. She glances up as I head over, offering me a sugar-dusted smile. In one fluid movement, she leans back and dusts her palms on her apron. "Hey sweetie. Come and have a look at this!" She leads me over to the window, pulling back the plaid curtains ever so slightly- just enough
for me to peek through. Throwing her a confused glance, I put my head in the gap and look out. What I see surprises me greatly.
We have new neighbours.
Parked next door, in the house that has been empty for five years, is a large green moving truck. Its enormous frame completely shadows that of the small red car beside it, and I find my curiosity seeps into my gaze as I watch the people exiting the car. A woman steps out first, balancing a small girl on her hip. Her hair is scraped back into a clasp and her features are delicate and feminine. My small glance sideways confirms that mom is already interested- she's always wanted a friend that lives locally. The girl the woman carries appears around four, with the cutest baby face I've ever laid eyes on and two brunette bunches either side of her head. Adorable.
I'm not sure who I was expecting next, but it definitely wasn't the alluring, moody boy that I see now. He looks around my age, and from what I can see of his ebony hair and angled jaw, he's hot. No doubt the population of the student body will completely swarm this one. My eyes instantly lock onto him as he threads his fingers through his hair, but suddenly his gaze snaps to mine and I freeze. After a second of hesitation, I jerk away from the window as though it's on fire and I can sense my cheeks burning already. He must think I'm such a creep. Surprisingly, by the time I've recovered courage enough to peek through again, he doesn't look affected in the slightest- bored, almost.
Suddenly realising that I probably look incredibly strange, creeping on the neighbours with only my head in view, I withdraw from the curtains and pull them closed swiftly, turning on my heel to face a now grinning mother. She wiggles her eyebrows at me, dancing forward to trap my waist in her hands and press a small kiss against my forehead. "What do you think eh? New neighbours for the first time in years..."
I smile half-heartedly, heading over to the fridge. "I wonder why they moved here. I mean, Lindale isn't exactly the most famous hotspot in Oregon." I frown confusedly as my eyes scour the shelves, but I'm left disappointed. "No orange juice," I murmur. My nose wrinkles as I peer at the remnants of our fridge: basically consisting of wafer ham, flavoured water and an old piece of lettuce. Fun, right?
Mom shrugs in reply, slapping my hand away as I reach for a cupcake without even looking up. She knows me way too well. "We need to go shopping mama," I groan loudly, "There's no food in this house." What?
Obviously healthy stuff doesn't count as food. She sticks her tongue out mockingly at me, and I'm momentarily stunned by how alike we are. The truth is, mom and I are similar in more ways than one. Along with our almost matching appearance- auburn curls and the palest of the pale skin, we're both sarcastic and jokey, with an abnormally weird side. Thus the musical marathons we have on Sunday nights...
"I'm going upstairs to do some studying," I slam the fridge door shut and grab a lollipop from my sweetie jar. Just as I'm thinking about what homework I have, my phone vibrates in my pocket. An amused smile curves my lips as a particularly horrific picture of Violet pops onto the screen. "Hey Vi," I hum as I pick up the line, "How's the blind date going?" I stuff a cola lolly into my mouth as I jog up the stairs, eager to hear her reply. No doubt it will be entertaining; Violet never uses her phone unless it's urgent.
"Horrible!" She hushes, "I'm in the girls bathrooms at the moment, hiding. Stupid period had to come today, when I'm wearing white trousers. Plus, he has the table manners of a complete pig! He spilt water down me for chrissakes!"
I snort quietly in attempt to rein in my laughter, "Okay," I bite back my smile, "Dry yourself off a bit, first. You're wearing your cardigan aren't you? Well, tie it around your waist to cover the trouser stains and tell him you have tummy ache. Works every time."
"Thank you!" She squeals gratefully, "Okay, I've got to go back out now or it'll be rude. Do you think he'll believe the tummy ache story?"
"Trust me, even the grossest of men understand what you want if you say you have a tummy ache." I roll my eyes at her panicky state, "Are you okay now then? I have studying to do and you, my friend, need to get your ass back on that date."
"Yeah, okay. Chill your tits woman, I'm going."
"Bye, Violet," My voice is amused, and I'm unable to restrain the smile tugging at the corners of my lips. I wouldn't say that Violet and I are polar opposites, but we are definitely very different. Although we're both Class B/C nerds, I tend to be a little bit more resigned around people than what she is. Whilst I usually stay quiet around strangers, she's the slightly gabby, funny one out of us two. I remember when she
