Eden
It was just so cliché. There was a whole genre in the book section on Amazon. Hundreds of books written about one thing- falling for your brother’s best friend. How unoriginal, right? It’s all over the place. But no one’s ever accused me of being a cliché. So, instead of crushing on Josh’s best friend, I decided to hate Dylan Coulter with all my heart. It was the perfect plan, really, since there was no way on this planet Dylan would ever notice me that way. Why pine? Why deal with all the angst over every perfect girlfriend? They could have him, because I didn’t care. At. All.
Besides, Dylan made it easy to hate him. What was to love about a crooked smile? Or husky, sexy voice? And that body? Perfectly sculpted with muscles not too lean or too bulky- how gross. Some girls might go for the perfectly tanned in winter without going to the tanning salon skin, but not me. It was unnatural. Uh-uh. No, sir. Who cared that his piercing green eyes practically glowed from behind the thickest, lushest lashes ever bestowed upon a mere mortal? I sure didn’t. Nope. Dylan Coulter could be choking on a hunk of his favorite beef jerky and I wouldn’t even pause in applying my makeup to perform the Heimlich. (Oh, alright. Fine. I would, but I wouldn’t want to.) Yep, hating Dylan was much, much easier than crushing on him.
“What’s up, E-Dawg,” the object of my hatred asked as he plopped down on the sofa beside me, plucking the bag of Cool Ranch Dorito’s I’d been eating right out of my hands.
“Hey,” I objected, elbowing Dylan in his ridiculously firm bicep while he held the bag out of my reach. “I was eating those.” Nothing like stating the obvious to your arch nemesis.
“No shit,” Dylan teased. “Looked more like you were inhaling them. Where do you put all the junk food you eat, Little E?”
“My name is Eden, you overgrown ape. Now give me my chips!” Dylan’s favorite thing to do to annoy me was to make up stupid nicknames. It was a rare thing for him to call me by my actual name. The worst was when he called me-
“C’mon, Ed-”
Ed. Not even with a long e sound. The name’s Eden. Not Edward.
“-I’m hungry. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to share?” He held the bag of chips out of my reach. It was beyond annoying being so short. Even standing on the couch, I couldn’t reach the chips he held from his seated position.
“You didn’t ask to share, you just took them,” I grunted as I climbed over his lap to get to my snack.
“Hey, watch where you’re stepping.” Dylan shoved my thighs with his forearm when my feet might have accidentally gotten too close to the family jewels. Served him right. Except for the fact that I was flying through the air, heading straight for the coffee table in front of the sofa, and I still didn’t have my chips.
“Dylan,” I shrieked, arms helicopter-ing in an attempt to prevent my fall.
“I got you.” And he did. With some kind of ninja move, Dylan’s arm snaked out and wrapped around my waist, preventing a trip to the ER. The result? Me, completely sprawled across his lap. Scrambling, I tried to get up.
“Ouch! Hey!” Dylan fended off my uncoordinated attempt by plucking me off his person and depositing me on the sofa beside him. Right back where I started.
Rage took over my body. “I hate you, Dylan Coulter!”
Dylan eyed me for a moment, a chip, my chip, suspended in the air halfway to his mouth. His full, delicious looking mouth, which I hated, that was now fighting an amused grin.
Eyes narrowing, I sat back as Dylan leaned over, invading my personal space. What was he doing?
“You know what they say, E-sprite,” he began.
“No, what do they say, jerk face?”
Dylan’s grin spread wider. “There’s a fine line between love and hate.” Then, with his eyes transfixed on mine, he pursed his lips to kiss the air between us.
Wow.
I mean, YUCK!
“Ugh! You really are a jerk, Dylan,” I retorted, mustering my most disdainful voice. Fed up, I jumped from the couch and stomped to the stairs leading out of the basement.
“You forgot your chips, E-smalls,” he taunted around a mouthful.
Dang him! But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of replying, even if the sound of his quiet chuckle made me want to run back and kick him in the shins.
Much better, I decided once I returned to my room, slamming the door so hard my windows rattled. Good thing mom and dad weren’t home from work yet. Whatever. Stupid Dylan. Now what was I going to do? I thought about calling Allie, but then I remembered two-a-days had started for football and as student athletic trainer for the team, she had to be there as well, leaving me with no one to hang out with.
Josh and Dylan graduated last spring. It was weird to think of my brother heading off for college. In fact, he would be leaving the very next day to attend Syracuse where he would major in pre-law. The house was going to feel so weird without Josh around. The only good thing about him leaving was that he had saved up to buy his own car and I would be inheriting his beast to drive. Whatever. I was glad to have a ride and the old Ford truck was at least reliable. The bad news- I wouldn’t be turning sixteen until a month after school started- my family’s solution to my not having a ride to school? 1) take the school bus. So not happening. 2) beg a ride off Dylan until I got my license. Ugh. I suppose if I had to.
Flopping back on my bed, I sighed. School would start on Monday. The first day of sophomore year. Allie and I wouldn’t be lowly freshman this year. Not that being a sophomore was as cool as being an upperclassman, but anything was better than being a freshman and this year I was determined to find a boyfriend.
Allie was great and everything, but I was only half of her best friend equation. Her other best friend was Hottie McHotcakes, Connor Sanders, starting quarterback and up and coming king of the school. Connor was cool and everything. And hot. So, so hot. Not Dylan hot, but close. The problem with Connor was that he was so dang cool, and he absolutely loved Allie. Like loved her. She didn’t know it yet and I wondered if he even did, but it as plain as the nose on his face. Connor Sanders was nuts for my girl, Allie. Which was great for Allie, for me not so much, especially when Allie and Connor spent every waking moment together.
That’s why I needed a guy of my own. Reaching for the drawer in my bedside table, I pulled out my diary. The book was stuffed to the gills with magazine clippings and pictures printed off the internet pasted to the pages. Each one held a distinctive look or beauty technique. Makeup was my passion! I lived for blending and contouring. The book also had all my plans for the future. I lived for lists and outlines. Yesterday, I began a new list of all my goals for sophomore year and at the very top of that list was ‘get a boyfriend’.
Each of my goals required an outline. Grabbing a handful of colorful markers, I laid them out on my comforter before plucking a violet one out of the bunch. In curly letters at the top of a fresh page I wrote ‘Goal- Get a boyfriend’. Bullet point ‘A’ wardrobe. Subpoint ‘1’ first day outfit. Thankfully, this was already taken care of. Last week I bribed Allie with an hour of playing video games to go with me to the mall to find an appropriate first day of school outfit.
And I found the perfect thing! A high waist pleated short skirt in black with a deep plum fitted sweater with three-quarter sleeves. For accessories, a sheer, floral infinity scarf, gold and silver bangles and thigh-high black leather boots. Hot.
After the outfit, subpoints ‘2’ and ‘3’ consisted of hair and makeup respectively. Lucky for me, I have naturally gorgeous hair compliments of my mother. Her Native American roots came with some amazing features including silky black hair that looked like I spent hours straightening it when all I’d done was let it air dry after my shower. It fell like a velvet curtain over my shoulders and down my back until it almost reached my bottom. All it would need Monday morning was a deliberately messy braid over one shoulder and done.
Makeup would be trickier if I hadn’t spent most of the summer pouring over magazines and watching YouTube videos. Thank goodness for YouTube! And an easy summer job walking dogs in my neighborhood. My entire income had been spent at MAC. My collection rivaled that of a professional makeup artist- I YouTubed that, too. I was going for a sweet look to contrast the drama of my thigh-high boots and short skirt. Shades of pink with a shimmer. Of course, my look would never be complete without my signature cat-eyeliner, but with my high cheekbones and flawless skin- bless those Native American genetics- getting away with a light application of foundation and blusher was easy. Finishing my look, a deep fuchsia lip color.
After trying it all on yesterday, I was actually looking forward to Monday and finally wearing it all outside of my bedroom. Yep, come Monday morning, step one of my get a boyfriend goal would be in full swing and I couldn’t wait!