“We are not living at home! Dorms! Roomies! We’ve been talking about this for years,” she said, fiercely. I raised my eyebrow at her, and she smiled. “And as for using a gun, how ’bout this?” She placed the phone in her lap, and used her hands to talk. “What if someone on campus attacked you, and they had a gun, and somehow you got the gun? You should be able to use the actual gun.”
“I’m surrounded by paranoid people. It’s bad enough that I have gun lessons, self-defense, kickboxing and mixed martial arts classes. Not to mention school, homework and cheer practice. Please do not encourage my dad to add more to my plate,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Come on; let’s go.”
We got off the subway and started making the short walk home in silence. Madison typed furiously on her phone, and I watched a couple kids playing soccer in the street.
As we walked up to our houses, standing next to each other, I got a strange feeling like someone was walking right behind me. I turned around quickly, and seeing no one there, I frowned. I turned back around and ran right into someone and shrieked.
“Hello, Z,” Ash Matthews said grinning.
“It’s Zoey, Ash. Zoey, not Z. My name does contain more than one letter. And stop doing that,” I said, stepping around him.
“Aw, come on, Z. I know you’re happy to see me,” Ash said, falling into step with us. From the corner of my eye, I saw Madison’s lips quivering with a barely concealed smile.
“Actually, Ash, not everyone is always happy to see you,” I replied.
“Not true,” Madison whispered under her breath. I shot a glare in her direction but didn’t say anything.
“Are you ladies going to the dance on Friday night?” he asked.
“As head of the dance committee, I’m obviously going to be there,” Madison said, finally looking up from her phone at the same time I said, “No.”
Ash stopped, sticking his arm out to stop me, his hand curved around my hip. I flinched at the contact between us and raised my head to look at those big gorgeous blue eyes. “Now, why wouldn’t my girl be going to the dance on Friday?”
“Let go of me,” I said, trying to wriggle from his grasp. “And I’m not your girl.”
Ash laughed as he let me go. I grabbed Madison’s hand and started dragging her away. “See you at school tomorrow, Z.”
“You are SO in love with him,” Madison laughed as I yanked her down the street.
I growled in response. She laughed again before turning to climb the steps of her own brownstone apartment. I stuck my tongue out at her and walked past the three apartments that separated my house from the one Madison’s family shared with a couple other families. I kept my head down as I passed Ash’s house, hoping that he had already made his way inside. I didn’t care what Madison said; I was definitely not in love with him. The guy drove me crazy.
Ash and I had lived next door to each other for as long as I could remember, even before my parents divorced and my mom went back to her hometown in Nebraska where she had grown up. He has always been the bane of my existence. When we were nine, he made me eat a mud pie. When we were eleven, he used to snap the straps of my bra, because I was the only girl that young who needed to actually wear one. And now that we’re eighteen, he continues to drive me absolutely insane.
But the guy was ridiculously good looking. He was the tallest guy at my high school, no question, with dark brown hair and these stupid big blue eyes that caused most girls at the school (and some teachers) to swoon. He was also the captain of the football AND the baseball teams, which gave him a body that even I couldn’t help but admire.
I slipped my key into the lock of my own brownstone and felt it click. Some people in my neighborhood had really great jobs, ones where they could afford to live in a brownstone by themselves. But most brownstones were split into apartments amongst at least two families. We had our own brownstone, left behind to my dad when my granddad died. It was garishly big for the two of us, but it was home.
It was empty at the moment though, but that was to be expected. As a police chief in New York, my dad tended to not be home very often.
I called for Bandit, my dog. He’s a purebred German shepherd who, despite being a few years old, acted like an overgrown pup. He came bounding down the stairs. I fitted a leash on him and took him for a quick walk around the block, making sure that he did his business. I got Bandit from my mom for my 12th birthday; she had tried to use Bandit as a tool of persuasion during my parents’ divorce. Unfortunately for her, the plan backfired since I chose to remain in New York with my dad.
When I got back, I dumped the leash in the entryway closet and kicked off my shoes. One flew across the open hallway. I shrugged, not wanting to chase after it. Bandit showed signs of wanting to go after it but instead trotted away toward the basement. I made my way into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to see what I could scrounge up for dinner.