How To Get Your Heart Broken (4 page)

Sometimes the
Understudy Steals the Show

One of my favorite things about the beach
house was how it managed to be relatively private. I enjoyed our relative
isolation, despite the evident draw of the water on warm summer days for locals
and tourists. To our left was our newly discovered neighbor, and to the right,
an unoccupied house. It was almost comical how whomever built these three
houses had neglected to pay any attention to spacing, with ours and our idiot
neighbor’s being so close together and the home to the right being more than
twice that distance away from us.

The few generic vacation homes behind us
were noticeable only because amongst them stood one abandoned house, so
decrepit looking it made me laugh, it reminded me so much of Ash’s grandfather’s
coffee table. Apparently the house had been owned by a man that used to look
after the lighthouse. He’d died there mysteriously, and many people believed
the place was haunted. The couple who had bought it and tried restore it had
been met with “hostile energy.”

Alas, with so many (except those brave
souls that chose to live next door) too afraid to go near it, there was no one
to restore it or tear it down. It stood there, a small yet menacing cloud of
darkness over otherwise bright, sunny days.

Maybe that was why there were always so few
people on our side of the beach. Whatever the reason, I didn’t mind. Most
beachgoers tended to stay further to the left of us, by the boardwalk
surrounded on either side by little gift shops, street vendors, and small
restaurants whose names were all along the lines of “Someone’s Famous Something
Shop” and in smaller letters,
SINCE
before your grandparents were born.

 
Further down, so far from our little shack
they seemed to be in another world were the expensive condos and extravagant
homes of those with last names all of the locals were familiar with. They were
at the furthest left tip of the crescent shaped shore, and because those places
reminded me so much of home, I was glad for their distance.
 
I did not go further than Southport’s
“official” gift shop. I did like going into town though. Away from the beach
and past the haunted house was Southport’s little downtown. There wasn’t much
to see I quickly discovered, but it was a welcomed escape from the sporadic waves
of claustrophobia I felt on days when the beach was too crowded.

I walked up to our front door after
returning from downtown, and ran right into Ashton.

“Hey, where are you
going?” I asked.

“Ummm, over there?”
She said questioningly as she pointed to her left.

I frowned, she
noticed. “All for you, remember?” She said sarcastically.

I noticed how she’d
dressed for the occasion. Though she was wearing one of those cardigans she
never went anywhere without, she had on a pair of fitted jean shorts. This was
a change for Ash, whose style could best be described as “business casual.” No
matter the event, she was always dressed formally, ready for a meeting with the
president at a moment’s notice.

I opened my mouth to
ask, but she only shrugged as she tucked her chest-length brown hair behind her
ear. I’d only seen her wear it down a handful of times in all the years I had
known her, but she seemed to be trying something new today. She had even blow
dried it, hardly necessary since it was naturally sleek straight anyway,
something I had always envied.
  

I sighed, “Ash-”

She put up a finger to
stop me, “
For you
,” she said
dramatically, before walking out of the door.

I smiled. Ash seemed
to have changed her perspective on how she was going to deal with this whole
thing.

 
She was going to keep pretending she was
helping me by doing this until I begged her to stop doing me any favors. But,
though it was no secret she thought this whole thing was stupid, I think a part
of her wanted to win, just to see the look on Rachel’s face when she did.

I watched her walk up
the stairs to his porch and ring the doorbell. Judging by the look on his face,
he had been expecting someone else. ‘
Would
that be me?’

I headed into the
living room, where someone had left the glass doors open. I inched towards them
excitedly; with the glass doors open, I could make out almost everything they
were saying.

“Hi, I’m Ashton, your
neighbor. Or, one of them.” She pulled a Tupperware container out of her bag
and pushed them towards him, “I bought cookies.”

She looked down shyly,
avoiding his
half naked body.
Apparently he wasn’t into shirts.

He seemed to notice
her discomfort, “I’ll be right back,” he smiled.

Ash turned towards me,
waving and giving me quick thumbs up. I remembered to pretend I wasn’t
snooping, glancing down at my phone like I had just received a fascinating text
message.
 
He came back fully dressed and
invited her to sit on the porch swing with him.

 
“Sorry, I’m Jessie by the way,
 
he said.

I huffed. I suppose I
could stop calling him Idiot now, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to. And who knew
he could be civil anyway? And why did he choose now to do it?

She placed the cookies
on the small table beside them, meanwhile dropping her bag and the book inside.
So quickly I would have missed it if I had blinked, she bent down to reach for
her bag, and he seemed to look right where I was standing, and at me. He smiled
as if to say he knew I was watching, and then he reached down and helped her
pick up her things. He had obviously been trying to annoy me, and it worked.

I retreated a few feet
towards the couch, but I could still make out parts their conversation.

“
Pride and Prejudice
, I love that book!” I heard him exclaim.

I snorted.

“Really?” Ashton asked
in surprise.

What an idiot! I’m
guessing he’d never read it, otherwise he wouldn’t claim to love it.

“Actually, I left my
copy at home…”

I had had enough. This
was absurd. I walked back towards the glass doors, slid them shut, and pulled
the blinds over, not caring if he heard.
 

Ash was always so…
innocent. At the same time, I think Rachel underestimated her. She probably
didn’t think he would give her a second look. And sure, Ash was shy and naïve;
few guys ever got the chance to look at her face because it was always buried
in a book, preferring fantasies of Mr. Darcy and Hamlet to the unappealing
reality that is the teenage boy. But with her emerald green eyes, long legs,
and olive toned skin, complemented by a small array of freckles that only made
her more endearing, she was far from unattractive.

Despite her lack of
confidence she was probably smarter than both Rachel and I combined. And
opposites
do
attract. Rachel was…too
much of what he was used to. And I, well…I didn’t think he could handle me.
Besides, I wasn’t exactly inviting.

I thought of Ash, with
her cookies on the table and her eagerness to lend
Pride and Prejudice
to someone who’d probably never heard of Jane
Austen.
She
was the picture you’d
find next to the definition of inviting.

Ok, So Maybe I
Think You’re Kinda Hot

“Tell me you’re not wallowing about
he-who-shall-not-be-named
. You’re giving
him more attention than he deserves,” Rachel said as I approached the couch
with a loud sigh. She was wearing another pair of barely-there shorts and a
T-shirt she had never returned to me. I never bothered asking for them back
anymore, I just returned the favor whenever I borrowed her clothes.

“Mmm, not wallowing,” I mumbled as I
plopped down beside her. I had actually committed to the opposite; I was
aggressively
not
thinking about
he-who-shall-not-be-named
which,
unfortunately, was why I had been thinking about the-idiot-next-door.

“Whatever,” she muttered.

“Honestly! Our idiot neighbor is a
great
distraction.”

She sent me a suspicious glance.

“Not in the way you’re thinking.
Please,
I just called him an idiot,” I
rolled my eyes.

“Well, with you, that’s a term of
endearment,” she said matter-of-factly.

I immaturely flicked her arm.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed, slapping my thigh in
response. This was the sort of thing that always made people think we were
sisters despite the shades of difference.

Without taking her eyes off the television
screen, she pulled out the hair tie that had held her hair up and handed me a
comb. She moved to sit on the floor in between my legs and waited expectantly.

I stared at the back of her head with
narrowed eyes. Had we gotten to the point where she didn’t even ask?

“Please?” She croaked out, as if it hurt her
throat to say the word.

I released another dramatic sigh and begin
moving her mound of curls into a French braid. Even though I always acted like
I was doing her a favor, I actually enjoyed doing this for her. She didn’t let
just anyone touch her hair, so I was always pleased that this was one of our
little traditions.

“What are you watching anyway?” I asked,
finally glancing at the T.V. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of it since I’d
entered.

“
Up,
”
she said in a whisper.

“Aww!” I exclaimed. “That was such a
sweet-”

“
Shhh,
I’m missing the best part.”

I rolled my eyes. She had seen this movie
at least
fifteen times now. Rachel had
an obsession with animated films, a truth I always used to embarrass her after
she managed to convince people that she had a heart of stone.

“Wait, where’s Ashton?” She asked.

“I’m sorry, weren’t you the one just
shushing me? Why do you want to know anyway?” I questioned. Rachel didn’t
normally care where Ashton was.

She took her eyes off the screen to give me
a suspicious glance, then reached for the remote and paused the film. Without a
word, she got up and headed towards the front door.

“Rachel,” I said, confirming what she
already seemed to realize.

I tilted my head towards the glass doors as
she turned back towards me. She walked towards them, opening the shades the
slightest bit and then gasping in surprise. They were still sitting on the
porch.

Okay, it hadn’t been
that
long, but for some reason I didn’t like the two of them
together.

I got up to join her as she peeked between
the blinds. She seemed torn between amusement and annoyance.
 

“When did
that
happen?” she asked.

I heard her mumble to herself, “
How
did that happen?”

I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

 
“Look, you promised to play fair, so don’t get
any ideas. Oh! She’s coming!” I exclaimed, making my way towards the couch as
Ash descended the stairs to his front porch.
 

Rachel turned to roll her eyes at me before
turning to the door, staring expectantly until Ash walked in. She stopped as
soon as she entered; probably disturbed by the way Rachel and I were both
staring at her.

“Hey, Ash!” I said in an unusually peppy
voice.

Rachel made her way back towards the couch,
resuming the movie and pretending as if she wasn’t the least bit curious about
Ash’s convo with
Jessie
(I was trying
to stop calling him idiot-next-door in my head, I worried it might slip out in
conversation).
 

“Oh my God, is that
Up?
” Ash asked. She was still standing by the front door, trying to
figure out what she’d missed. But she walked towards the T.V. now, thoroughly
distracted.

“No, it’s
Down,
” Rachel replied sarcastically.

I elbowed her as if it were a knee-jerk
reaction. Before she could retaliate, I got up to grab my laptop from the
built-in seat by the window and went to sit on the loveseat that Ash had
settled on.

She gave me a small smile and scooted
closer. “You seemed angry before. You know, when you slammed the door?” She
questioned in a whisper.

“Oh, you noticed that,” I mumbled.

She laughed, waiting for my answer.

“I was thinking about
the-X
,” I lied. What was I supposed to say? That I didn’t trust
our neighbor around her? As absurd as the thought seemed to me, I knew saying
anything else would have suggested to her that I was jealous.

“Oh,” she said. She looked confused, but I
knew she wouldn’t push the subject any further.

“You know, Jessie’s actually really nice,”
she went on.

“Hmm,” I replied.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like him. In that
way, I mean.”

Confusion clouded my face, “Why would that
bother me?”

“Because then this whole thing wouldn’t go
as planned,” Her face mirrored my confusion, but I could see the smile behind
it.

“Right,” I agreed, nodding.

“Right,” she repeated as I rolled my
eyes.
 

I could hardly believe it, but here I was
once again, on Jessie’s porch. I’d found him sitting on the porch swing because
apparently he came to the beach to just sit and wait for visitors.

He patted the seat next to him.

“Ugh…I’m okay,” I said hesitantly.

“Seriously?” He asked.

“Seriously,” I nodded at him.

“I don’t bite. I promise.”

I raised an eyebrow. He smirked‒I was
beginning to notice he did that a lot‒and continued, “You know you keep
playing this hot‒and‒cold game. But I know you want me. It’s okay
though‒”

I sighed loudly and took a seat next to
him.

“Now will you shut up?” I asked
exasperatedly. I was already growing tired of that annoying smirk.

It was late in the afternoon. The sun was
setting, and all its remaining light seemed focused on him. I realized then,
that his hair was not a uniform color. It was a misshapen mixture of lighter
and darker shades of brown, like cinnamon and chocolate. His face was illumined
in a way that brought out its shadows, like a glimpse of something deeper.

My anger subsided. I sighed, “I’m not here
to fight with you… I just want to know...What do you want with Ashton?”

“Wow, you sure don’t beat around the bush.
Don’t you want to talk about the weather? Come in have some cookies…”
  

He smiled as I glared. I was starting to
think he enjoyed getting a rise out of me.
 

He sighed, “Alright…which one’s
Ashton?”
 

I smiled, attempting to hide my
frustration, yet I knew the tension in my cheeks made my anger obvious.

I was caught off guard by his wholehearted
laugh, “I’m kidding! We were having cookies and talking about books. What could
be more innocent?”

I scooted away when he nudged my shoulder,
“Are you jealous?”

“Yeah. In your dreams,” I replied.

“Okay, I get it, this isn’t about me.”

I turned to him in mock surprise. “How big
off you,” I replied sarcastically.

He ignored my comment. He was serious
suddenly, looking at me like I was a puzzle he was failing to solve, “You’re
protective of them.”

I sighed. “Don’t make this deeper than it
is. This isn’t the part where I pour my heart out to you.”

“When is that exactly?”

I rolled my eyes. He broke his gaze,
looking away at the waves.
 

“I’m just saying, I respect that you’re so
loyal to your friends. They’re lucky to have you. I mean, I’m the same with my
little brother, but‒”

“You
have a brother?” I interrupted.

“Yeah.
Why?” He asked.

I
shrugged. “I don’t know, you just seemed liked an only child.”

His
lips puckered, “That does not sound like a compliment.”

“What
made you think I was giving you one?” I asked, biting my cheeks to keep from
laughing at his sour expression.

“You clearly don’t think much of me. And
that’s the nice thing about Ashton, she didn’t treat me like a dumb jock.”

I froze. For a moment I felt so guilty, I
almost wanted to apologize.

And then he turned back to me. There was a
playful glint in his eye. “I wouldn’t mess with her. And don’t worry; I’m not
interested in either one of them. I seem to have a thing for girls who think
I’m beneath them,” he said mischievously.

I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn’t
actually hurt his feelings. For some reason the thought of that frightened me.

“Probably a habit you should break,” I
whispered.

He was still staring at me. Before that
moment, I hadn’t noticed how blue his eyes were. I hadn’t noticed that there
was a dark ring around his left eye and lighter flecks around both his
pupils.
 
But it was hard to ignore when
he was this close to me. And it was also hard to deny how beautiful he was. Regardless
of how I felt about him, I couldn’t deny that.

‘
Get
a grip, Eli. It doesn’t make him any smarter, or more mature. It certainly
doesn’t make him less conceited,’
I thought, trying to convince
myself.
 

I shook my head to clear it and stood up.
He was still leaning towards where I had been. I looked away, staring at the
sunset in front of us. I walked towards the stairs.

“Ali?” He called before I got to the
bottom.

“That’s not my name,” I said, turning back
to him in surprise. “It’s Eli,” I corrected.

But he was pretty close, especially
considering we’d never had formal introductions.

He paused for a moment. “Eli,” he repeated
with a smirk. I sent him an impatient stare. He continued, “There’s a game this
Saturday, Spain vs. Brazil.”

I stared back as if he was speaking a
foreign language. “A game of what?” I asked in confusion.

“…Soccer. You said you liked soccer,” he
finished hesitantly.

I bit my lip to keep from smiling, “I
lied.”

He blinked in surprise, staring at me with
incredulous eyes, “You went on that whole rant about how I was a jerk for
assuming you were only pretending to like soccer to impress me!”

“And I stand by what I said,” I replied,
trying not to laugh at his bewildered expression. “There are a lot of girls out
there that legitimately like soccer, and you should not assume that when they
express an interest in it that they’re doing it for your sake.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you were thinking of them,”
he huffed.

“I’m very considerate,” I said playfully.

I turned around and descended the rest of
the stairs.

“What about tennis?” He called after me.

He must have asked Ashton or Rachel for my
name, I realized. Which meant that they had talked about me. Which meant he was
thinking about me. I grinned. This was way too easy.

“I can be persuaded,” I yelled over my
shoulder.

I didn’t turn around again as I walked back
to our house, but I could feel his eyes on me the whole time.