Surviving Connor

(2) Alisa, Can I Come Over?

Heyyy sorry for the long wait

Anyways...I am entering this in the Watty Awards sooooo PLEASSEEE VOTEEEEEE

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Looking around my new room, I realized something. Next year was my senior year, and then I’d be graduating. I would be going to my dream school, UCLA. And I would finally be leaving my ditzy mother behind. That sounded pretty cruel, but as much as I loved travelling with Mom, I couldn’t wait to settle down somewhere and actually live my life the way I wanted to.

I was in the process of unpacking my moving boxes when the doorbell rang.

“Alisa,” Mom shouted from downstairs. “Get that, will you?”

I sighed. There was no way in hell that she was busier than I was. I wondered why she couldn’t get it herself; she was so much closer to the door, anyway.

I was given my answer as I passed my mom at the bottom of the stairs. She was too preoccupied with checking out her reflection in the toaster, obviously something she couldn’t postpone until later- typical.

I walked straight past her, not even bothering to comment on how shallow she was being, and opened the door to a woman in her forties. She was blond, relatively pretty, and she was carrying what looked to me like a pumpkin pie.

This was the part that I hated most about moving: meeting the new neighbors. They always wanted to get to know you, to get all close and friendly despite our lack of effort or politeness.

“Hello,” she greeted, flashing me a massive smile.

Oh god, I could already tell that she seemed like the preppy type. Blond, preppy neighbors were the absolute worst type you could get, and I’m speaking from experience. But looking on the bright side, they always ended up the first to be killed in horror films, so I guess that was something to look forward to.

“Hi,” I said shortly.

“I’m Naomi Campbell,” the woman chirped, evidently not put off. “I live right next door, just over there.” I watched as she pointed to the house I saw the two hot guys coming out of just a few hours ago.

“I’m Alisa,” I offered her. “My mom and I just moved in here.”

 "Well, that’s lovely…” she said, smile still glued in place.

Why wasn’t she going away? Oh no… She wanted me to invite her in. And there was no other way, nothing else I could do but comply. “Would you—uh, would you like to come in?”

Naomi beamed even wider and shoved the pumpkin pie into my hands, wiping her shoes and stepping into the house. I just sighed and shut the door behind her. This was going to be a long night.

As soon as Mom realized there was another person in the house, she stopped flirting with herself in the reflection of our toaster and came out to meet our guest.

“Hi, I’m Rachel Green,” my mom introduced herself. “And thanks for the pie. It looks lovely.” She gestured over to where I was setting it on the side. Liar, I thought. My mom hated pie.

“I’m Naomi,” our new neighbor said, a smile still stretched across her face. “I live next door with my husband and ten kids.”

Ten kids!  She said it as if it was normal to have that many offspring! I almost choked on my own spit just at the thought of it. There were enough people in our family with just me and Mom, jeez! Forget about preppy, these guys were absolute freaks!