WARNING: It's a little violent.
Other wise, I think you'll really like this story and the twists it offers! Go read and enjoy! ;D
**Thank you to hopelessromantic1993 for the amazing banner!!
I grunted as I dropped the last box, labeled 'books', on the floor of my new bedroom. Sighing, I placed my hands on my hips. Well this was a...downgrade. I didn't want to sound selfish, but my previous house in Pennsylvania was slightly bigger than this. After my dad lost his job, we picked up everything and moved to Virginia where he found a job with lesser pay.
I scanned the smaller room. I could fit my queen sized bed, but it would take up a lot of room. Luckily, I had a decent sized closet so I would only need my dresser. This could work. I knew things were hard on my dad, and I wanted to make everything easy on him. I wouldn't complain.
My mom scampered up the stairs and stopped at my doorway. She pushed her fingers into the front pockets of her jeans and smiled, little wrinkles forming around her blue eyes. She flipped her red-brown hair over her shoulder. "So sweetie, do you like the new house? And what about your room? I know it's smaller than your last one." She glanced around. "A lot smaller. I'm sorry sweetie you know the money was tight and we had-"
I cut her off with a giggle. "Mom you're rambling again. Really it's fine. I like it. It's...cozy." I said, flashing a grin.
She nodded. "Good. I'm sure your father will be happy to hear it." After a short silence, my mother stepped away from the door, angling her body to the stairs. "Well, your father and I have the downstairs master bedroom, so lucky you, you get the whole upstairs to yourself!"
"Mom?" I said curling my lips inward.
I pointed to her very pregnant stomach. "I think you're forgetting someone."
"Ah, yes! Of course!" My mother smacked her head with the palm of her hand and rested her arms over her stomach. "But as of now, you have the whole upstairs to yourself. Who knows, We might just keep little Quincy downstairs with us!" My crazy mother tapped her stomach with her finger and snickered. "You'd like that, Quincy, wouldn't you? I know you love mommy." She paused for a few seconds. "You see, Alex? He kicked in agreement!"
With that, my mother rounded the corner and made her way downstairs. I laughed at the fact that she called the baby Quincy. It was a boy, but I knew my father would never have it named Quincy. He said that it seemed weak, and he hated Q names anyways. For what reason, I don't know. I personally thought that Q names were interesting and exotic.
After hanging up my clothes, and out of boredom, color-coding them, I made my way downstairs. My father was downstairs struggling with a few boxes. He threw them on the kitchen table that the movers had already brought in. Some dust sprung from the table and the boxes and my father coughed while waving it away with his hand.
"How do you like the house?" He asked, taking a deep breath. He clapped his hands together, relieving them of any leftover dust.
My mom smiled. "I love it! And so does Quincy!"
My father narrowed his eyes at me mother and laughed. He rotated his finger next to his head and rolled his eyes.
"Saw that." My mother said, not bothering to lift her head from her gaze on her stomach.
I gave my father a confused look but he just shook his head and smiled. "So, ahh, Alex. Do you like the place?"
I gave him a reassuring grin. "I like it dad, I like it a lot."
Before my father could reply, the doorbell rang. My father nodded his head towards the door. "Go on, you go get it. I'll take care of these boxes...and your mother."
My mom's head shot up. "Hey!" She yelled defensively. I laughed and ran to the door.
I placed my hand on the cold, brass knob and twisted it. I glanced at the floor before looking up. "Ye--". At my doorstep stood what I would classify as a beautiful man. He looked at me with piercing brown eyes. They weren't a dull brown, but a deep brown. Almost black. They seemed to present some sort of mystery. He had dark brown hair that fell to the top of his ears in waves. His jaw bone was chiseled and he gave me a crooked smile as I stared at him in wonder. I shook my head and felt my cheeks flush. "Hi. I'm Alex Mitchell." I said smiling.
"I'm Andrew. Andrew Ray." He said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"Hi." I said, still staring.
He gave me a confused look. I wanted to smack my forehead. I just said that.
"Right," He said grinning. "Anyways, we wanted to say welcome to the neighborhood."
I glanced over his shoulder. There was no one. "We?"
"Andrew!" I heard a high-pitched voice say from somewhere distant. It got closer. "Andrew, honey! I almost forgot the casserole!"
A blonde woman came into my field of vision. She pranced up the steps next to Andrew and held out the casserole. I took it from her hands. She gave me bright, artificially whitened smile. "Hi! I'm Bethany!" She said in a chipper voice, flipping her blonde hair over a shoulder. She held out her hand. I took it mine and shook it, feeling something cold against my skin. When she removed her hand from my grip, I spotted a ring on her finger.
Great. An overly happy blonde as my next door neighbor. Even better, she was getting married to this gorgeous man. Too bad he was too old for me. He had to be. I mean, I was seventeen. Who got married at seventeen? He couldn't be my age.
"Ah. You're married?" I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
Bethany wrapped her arms around Andrew's arm and smiled warmly. "I wish. No, we're engaged." She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers, revealing her ring finger with a glittering wedding band.
I smiled slightly. "Oh. Congratulations." I didn't mean it.
She shrieked and smiled. I began to shut the door. "Well, have a great day."
Andrew lifted his hand and waved one as Bethany eagerly ran off the porch. I shut the door and took a deep breath. I wiggled my shoulders and shook my head before entering the kitchen where my parents were engaged in a conversation about paint colors. My dad wanted to paint the baby's room blue but my mom insisted on bright orange walls or circus wallpaper.
I cleared my throat to get there attention. My dad adjusted his collared shirt. "Who was it?"
The image of Andrew flashed through my mind. Lucky Bethany. "No one special. Just our new neighbors." I shrugged and placed the slightly burnt casserole on the table. I wasn't very hungry.