More Than This (More Than, #1)(9)

I stared at her, my mouth open in shock. She looked at me and broke out in a fit of laughter. It was a joyous sound that to this day still has me cracking up whenever I hear it. We sat on that roof and giggled like the innocent girls we were for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only minutes. Our laughter broke off when we heard a beeping noise. We both looked over to where the sound was coming from, over to the house next door and the U-haul truck reversing into the driveway.

“Oh, god,” Megan sighed, “The house has finally sold. I hope they’re not sucky neighbors. I couldn’t think of anything worse! Like old people that collect random shit to hoard, and they have to call the fire department to clear the house, only to find like,” she looks to the sky as if thinking “…a 5 billion pound woman stuck under a pile of empty snack sized chocolate pudding tubs, and then a crane has to come to lift her body out of the house like on ‘Gilbert Grape’, and they take her to a hospital so they can pump all the fat out of her body. Then 3 years later, some random kid emerges from that house, knocks on our door and asks, ‘have you seen my baseball?’”

I look at her for a second, then burst out laughing. Uncontrollable laughter that has the sides of body aching. I laugh so hard I’m pretty sure colored snot from my popsicle is oozing out of my nose. Hot right? I hear her quietly laughing with me, and then, “Holy shit, Mick… what the hell is that?”

I stop laughing abruptly and follow her eyes to see what the heck she’s talking about, and then I see him, and I think, “What the hell is that?”

It’s a boy. A boy better than any other boy I’ve ever seen before. He could be our age but he’s built bigger. Like, not an “I work out, I’m a jock” big, but like, I work… lifting heavy shit, kinda big. Farm boy big? I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about boys and big before.

“Let’s go introduce ourselves,” Megan states, already climbing through the window back into her room.

I sit frozen staring at him, as he slowly makes his way up to the front door, taking in his surroundings, like he hasn’t seen the house before. Maybe he hasn’t. Dark blond hair hidden under a baseball cap, dark jeans and plain grey shirt. I find myself wondering what color his eyes are, when he looks up suddenly and catches me mid stare. Kill me. Kill me now. I’m sure the blush has crept up to my face and I’m even more sure that he can see it. A slow smile lifts at the corner of his mouth and he raises his right hand in a small wave. I force a smile, which I'm sure looks more like I’m constipated than an actual smile. I start to lift my hand to wave back…

“Mikayla… Come onnnn!!” Meg screams at me like a banshee.

I stand up suddenly and hurl myself through the window, tripping on the eave and falling so unladylike, flat on my ass. “What is wrong with you?” She looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.

“Big boy farm.” WHAT? Please, Kill. Me. Now.


By the time I’ve calmed my rapidly beating heart and convinced Megan that I’m not completely insane, I find myself stumbling down her driveway and onto the driveway next door. We’re greeted by a lady who looks to be in her late 30’s, wearing sweats and unloading boxes from a cherry red truck. She sees us and instantly smiles. “Hi, you young ladies must be our neighbors?” she says, wiping sweat from her brow.

“I am, my name’s Megan,” she reaches out to shake the ladies hand. “This is my best friend Mikayla,” she nudges me.

“Uh. Hi, I’m… um Mikayla,” I say, shaking her hand. My eyes are cast downwards. I don’t want to look too much at the ladies face. She’s more than likely the mother of the boy whom I’ve just been eye licking.

“Well, you girls are just the prettiest picture,” she drawls in a thick Texan accent. “I’m Sam,” she faces the house, “Henry! Boys!”

Im still looking at the concrete of the driveway when I hear the front screen door open and close a couple times.

“Yeah, Ma?” says a male voice. I jerk my head up and see him, like, really see him. Brown, like the color of syrup, his eyes. He recognizes me and stands in front of me with a smile.

“Honey, this is Megan, she’s our neighbor.” He takes his cap off and shakes Megan's hand, never taking his eyes off me. “And this is her best friend Mikayla.” We shake hands, and I swear, sparks fly and my hand tingles with a sensation that roots me to the floor, something I have never felt before. “Girls, this is my son James, I have another one somewhere, much younger. I’m sure you’ll see him soon.”

“Nice to meet you.” James finally lets go of my hand and I weep internally.

Megan’s looking at me like she’s watching the third head ooze from the second head I’ve just grown. Luckily, she saves the day by actually talking to this James kid. I’m still trying to get over the physical shocks that have just sparked my body into life. They talk about school and sports and why they moved here, what there is to do in our small town, and everything else small talk might consist of.

From this, I get that he’s a freshman and will be going to our school. Great. I’ll be a struck dumb and mute for the next four years.

I hear my name, but I don’t know what was said.

Megan nudges my side, I look up at her, her eyebrows raised and head jerking towards James. I slowly look over to him. “Huh?” Im so fricken eloquent I can’t even handle it.