Zoe. | Recharged. | Book One.

Zoe Bryan. | Romeo and Juliet.

Disclaimer

Hello everyone! It's MOXIE here. I want to let everyone know I am using Spanish in this chapter. I'm not fluent in Spanish by any means, but I did my best with assistance from Google Translate. Therefore, there are English translations in this chapter. However, the translations to English and Spanish may be completely inaccurate, so if they are, please let me know, and I will do my best to make the proper corrections. Anyhow, I hope that you all enjoy this chapter!

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September 2nd, 2011

Once my dad pulls into our house's driveway, I sigh, knowing that I'll be safe in the comfort of my own home. My father twists the car keys in the keyhole near the steering wheel to shut off the ignition. Pulling the car keys out of the keyhole, he slides them into the side pocket of his jeans. Furthermore, just as I'm about to open the door to exit the car, I notice a moving truck across the street from my place in the rearview mirror. Curious, I glance at my father, wondering who our neighbors were. My dad's shoulders shrug in response to my expression. I push the passenger side door open and slide out of the car, and look over my shoulder. I notice this guy, around my age, caring a box from the moving truck into the house. Does he live there? I sure hope so, although I'll probably never talk to him because I'm too shy to even make eye contact with anyone except for my parents.

 I turn my entire body to look at him from across the street. Heat rises upon my face, making me feel warm as I see him jog over to the open back door of the moving truck once more to retrieve another box. He lifts a brown cardboard box, and his muscles bulge from lifting it with an impressive amount of ease. This beautiful male specimen saunters towards the house while carrying the box. However, I suspect he sees me staring at him because he turns and glances over his shoulder, giving me a small, friendly smile.

The second he smiles at me, I redirect my attention to the ground and reacquaint myself with my shoes. Suddenly, I begin to think about his eyes. His eyes are a piercing brown-mocha color, his dark is short, but he has bangs that rest comfortably on the top of his forehead. My eyes curiously look up once more and continue to look at him. I scan his appearance, and it didn't take long for me to notice his complexion and sculpted physique. The visual art that is his sun-kissed tan skin and bulging arm muscles in his sleeveless shirt all make my mouth go dry.

"Oh, stop gawking at the boy and go say hello." My father, Sam says, snapping me out of my internal thoughts. I turn my head to the left in his direction as he sits in the driver's seat of his car. 

I gasp in shock. "I was not gawking." I protest, feeling slightly embarrassed that my dad caught staring at him.

My father shakes his head while smiling at me in amusement. "Well, when you finish 'not gawking,'" he specifies the irony of not gawking with the use of air quotes before continuing to speak. "I'll be in the house." He says, still sounding amused while grabbing my bag, exiting the car and makes his way into the house. I look back over in the direction of the boy that I'm currently salivating over, and I see him wiping some sweat off of his forehead while looking directly at me. Seconds later, his legs are moving in my direction. Oh, no, he's coming over here! My heart rate begins to beat as fast as a freight train getting ready to derail. I try to rationalize my emotions and thoughts so that I can think of an escape route. Do I run? Do I pretend that I don't speak English? Do I call for my dad and pretend that we need to leave? As he came closer, I feel the walls of anxiety closing on me. I need to make a decision, and I need to make it fast.