Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 7

Thomas

I pace the bathroom of Laylee's house. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out. "LAYLEE?" I yell into the receiver. "Geez, Thomas, could you be a little louder? I didn't quite catch that."

"WHERE ARE YOU?" I can almost hear Laylee roll her eyes as she replies, "Calm down, Thomas. It's no big deal. Mom's not coming home until tomorrow morning." Here's the thing: everyone thinks that Laylee and I live together. Laylee and I do not live together. After my mom died, my dad got remarried to a woman named Cindy. Cindy and my dad adopted Laylee, my little sister, from a country in Africa, small and hard to pronounce. When Cindy divorced my dad, Laylee went with her. Frankly, I almost went with her too, but my dad was the only real family I had left, so I decided to stay. So now here I am: throwing a party at my ex-step mom's house without her knowing. Honestly, I should have just asked her. She would have been fine with it. But no. I didn't. And now I am totally freaking out. Who can explain it? I don't know. But I can't calm down. "Thomas," Laylee groans, "go downstairs. Eat something. Have fun. Calm down." I nod, "Yea, ok. Bye, Laylee." I close the phone and open the bathroom door. I've never been good with secret keeping or lying, and here I am throwing a party without the house owner's permission and-not purposely, I can assure you, my house wouldn't have been big enough for a party-making everyone think that this gigantic house is mine, only assuring the rumor of my wealth and good fortune. I feel like everyone is staring at me as I walk into the backyard, although I know absolutely no one is watching, seeing as absolutely no one cares about me. I spot Venice standing alone by the chicken coop and I walk down to talk to her. As I do, I bump into Russel. "Oh, sorry," I say. He smiles, "No worries." He looks down to see where I'm walking and sees Venice. He smiles at me, "So I've got some competition, huh?" I blink, confused, "Excuse me?" He laughs, and he's so comfortable about it, as if we've been friends for years and laughing with me is perfectly normal. It weirds me out. "For the heart of Venice Taily," he smiles, and I grow even more confused. "What are you talking about?" I ask. "Venice," he says, "Obviously, she likes you." He waves a finger at me, "But I'll win her over yet." He laughs again, "Go, flirt all you want. But someday, I'm going to steal that girl right out from under you." He smiles mischievously, "And you won't even know what hit you." I look down at Venice as he walks away from me, toward the cooler. Venice? Venice likes me? I smile slightly at the thought and continue toward her.

© 2010