Episode 2

I was kind of boring.

In my old group of friends in Florida, I wasn't the quiet one, but I never skipped class, maintained a 4.0, and was pretty much a good girl. Not because I was afraid to do anything reckless or wild; I didn't want to add to Mom's troubles. Not then...

Grabbing two glasses, I filled them with orange juice Mom must have picked up on her way home. "Do you want me to get groceries today? We have nothing."

She nodded and spoke around a mouthful of eggs. "You think of everything. A grocery trip would be perfect." She grabbed her purse off the table, pulling out cash. "This should be enough." I pocketed the money into my jeans without looking at the amount; she always gave me too much in the first place. "Thanks," I mumbled.

She leaned forward, a twinkle in her eyes.

"So...this morning I saw something interesting." God only knows with her. I smiled. "What?"

"Have you noticed that there are two kids about your age next door?"

My inner golden retriever kicked in and my ears perked up. "Really?"

"You haven't been outside, have you?" She smiled. "I'd thought for sure you'd be all over that disgusting flower bed by now."

"I plan on it, but the boxes aren't unpacking themselves." I gave her a pointed look. I loved the woman, but leave it to her to somehow forget that part. "Anyway, back to the kids."

"Well, one is a girl who looks about your age, and there's a boy." She grinned as she stood. "He's a hottie."

A tiny piece of egg caught in my throat. It was seriously gross to hear Mom talking about boys my age. "Hottie? Mom, that's just weird." Mom pushed off from the counter, picked up her plate from the table, and headed to the sink.

"Honey, I might be old, but my eyes are still working fine. And they were really working earlier."

I cringed. Double gross. "Are you turning into a cougar? Is this some sort of midlife crisis I need to be concerned about?"

Rinsing off her plate, she glanced over her shoulder. "Katy, I hope you'll make an effort to meet them. I think it would be nice for you to make friends before school starts." Pausing, she yawned. "They could show you around, yes?" I refused to think about the first day of school, new kid and all. I dumped my uneaten eggs in the garbage. "Yeah, it would be nice. But I don't want to go banging on their door, begging them to be my friend."

"It wouldn't be begging. If you put on one of those pretty sundresses you wore in Florida instead of this." She tugged on the hem of my shirt. "It would be flirting." I glanced down. It said MY BLOG IS

BETTER THAN YOUR VLOG. There wasn't a thing wrong with it. "How about I show up in my undies?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "That would definitely make an impression."

"Mom!" I laughed. "You're supposed to yell at me and tell me that's not a good idea!"

"Baby, I don't worry about you doing anything stupid. But seriously, make an effort." I wasn't sure how to 'make an effort.'

She yawned again. "Well, honey, I'm going to catch up on sleep."

"All right, I'll get some good stuff at the store." And maybe mulch and plants. The flower bed outside was hideous.

"Katy?" Mom had stopped in the doorway, frowning.

"Yeah?"

A shadow flickered over her face, darkening her eyes. "I know this move is hard for you, especially before your senior year, but it was the best thing for us to do. Staying there, in that apartment, without him...It's time we started living again. Your dad would have wanted that." The lump in my throat I thought I'd left in Florida was back. "I know, Mom. I'm fine."

"Are you?" Her fingers curled into a fist.

The sunlight coming through the window reflected off the gold band around her ring finger.

I nodded quickly, needing to reassure her.

"I'm okay. And I'll go next door. Maybe they can tell me where the store is. You know, make an effort."

"Excellent! If you need anything, call me.

Okay?" Mom's eyes watered on another long yawn. "I love you, honey."

I started to tell her that I loved her, too, but she disappeared upstairs before the words were out of my mouth.

At least she was trying to change, and I was determined to at least try and fit in here. Not hide in my room on my laptop all day like Mom was afraid I'd do. But mingling with kids I'd never met wasn't my thing. I'd rather read a book and stalk my blog comments.

I bit my lip. I could hear my dad's voice, his favorite phrase encouraging me, "Come on, Kittycat, don't be a bystander." I squared my shoulders. Dad had never let life pass him by...

And asking about the nearest store was an innocent-enough reason to introduce myself. If Mom was right and they were my age, maybe this wouldn't turn out to be such an epic fail of a move. This was stupid, but I was doing it. I hurried across the lawn and across the driveway before I chickened out.

Hopping onto the wide porch, I opened the screen door and knocked, then stepped back and smoothed the wrinkles out of my shirt. I'm cool.

I got this. There is nothing weird about asking for directions.

Heavy footsteps came from the other side, and then the door was swinging open and I was staring at a very broad, tan, well-muscled chest.

A ***** chest. My gaze dropped and my breath sort of...stalled. Jeans hung low on his hips, revealing a thin line of dark hair that formed below his navel and disappeared under the band of the jeans.

His stomach was ripped. Perfect. Totally touchable. Not the kind of stomach I expected on a seventeen-year-old boy, which is how old I suspected he was, but yeah, I wasn't complaining. I also wasn't talking. And I was staring.

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