I Kissed The Boy Next Door (12 page)

Then I saw his mom’s face. She had a funny expression, sort of like she had a secret and was about to burst. What exactly was going on?

“Aren’t you going to ask me where?” he said to me.

I shifted my bouquet of flowers to my other arm, the fragrance of mums wafting up my nose in the transfer.

“Okay, where?”

“Washington State
.”

“Washington?” I stared at him incredulous. “But that’s … so far. And I’ll be here, and you’ll be there. And …”

He cut me off. “You could come with me.”

Come with him?

“And live where?” I asked.

“With me
, of course.”

You could have scooped my jaw up off the floor at that point. Live with him? But that went against the Bible and all the stuff my mom had taught me. I couldn’t compromise my values even for Jackson Phillips, and I loved him so much.

Then I noticed the sparkle in his eye. Okay, so he was funning with me again, but the question was why.

“Well,” I began.
So I’d play along with his charade. “I
could
do that. But seeing as it’s so far and I have all these plans for the future, I just don’t know …”

I’d just said I didn’t have any plans, so he knew I was going on.

He fiddled around behind his back, and I noticed our families gathering around. What was he up to?

“
What plans? You’re only plans are being with me,” he said.

I gave a huff and spun around, putting my back in his face
. “You think a lot of yourself.”

His lips hit me moist and warm right at the nape of my neck.
Oh heavens, do that again.

“You know, there is another way,” he said.

My heart went all flippy-floppy out of time. Was he doing what I thought he was doing? Sure enough he was because his hands wrapped around me and in his palm sat a ring.

“Marry me.”

Marry Jackson Phillips. You’d think I’d go all gaga and say, “Yes.” And I wanted to. But I was always thinking way ahead. I turned back around, no small feat with his hand around me and his mouth close to my neck.

“We’re so young,” I said. “How will we live? We’ll have to have housing, and that means rent, at least. Then there’s buying food and paying for everyday expenses. Plus, don’t forget light and water bills. And you’ll be in school or gone to games. What’ll I do? Get a job at a supermarket?”

Not that I had anything against jobs at supermarkets.

His face got all serious, and he sat there, the ring in his lap. Then the corner of his mouth turned up. “Lucy McKinsey,” he said, “I dare you to marry me.”

A dare. Oh, that wasn’t fair. He knew I never turned down a dare. I narrowed my gaze and pressed my lips together real tight.

“You chicken?” he asked. And he
went to calling like a chicken and flapping his elbows.

Now, the last thing I was where dares were concerned was chicken. And I loved this man. No way, I wanted to spend the next four years of my life on the opposite coast from him.
And I reckon we’d figure all the other stuff out.

I stuck out my hand. “You’re on!”

FROM THE AUTHOR

When I wrote my first young adult story,
Me & Timothy Cooper
, I decided I loved writing YA. That was the sole reason I began writing this one. There is something so sweet about the innocence of youth and two people finding love for one another.

Lucy McKinsey is such a ham, and one of the most fun characters to be inside the head of. I did not plan her crazy, daring personality past the initial kiss of Jackson when she was fourteen.

Jackson developed more as the story went on. Initially, I thought to set the story in high school with his coming back and her seeing him there. But that was too much like
Me & Timothy Cooper
. It came to me when I had her yank the shirt over her head in Chapter 1, that the best thing would be for someone to see it, and what if it was him? Thus came the “boy next door” idea.

I hope you enjoy this story and take away from it the joy of reading and the thought that God can fix broken hearts. God offers forgiveness for Jackson’s mother just as He offers it for anyone else. I have to believe she found it eventually, and that her son, Joseph, grew up into a wonderful young man.

But such is the mind of an author, always thinking ahead.

God bless,

Suzanne D. Williams

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Suzanne D. Williams is a native Floridian, wife, mother, photographer, and writer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography, as well as devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors.

To learn more about what she’s doing visit
http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com/

or
link with her on Facebook at
http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor

Also by Suzanne D. Williams:

Nonfiction:

Fearless

Short Stories:

The Amanda Series

Christmas Angel

Me & Timothy Cooper

I Kissed The Boy Next Door

Fiction:

MISSING (The Sanders Saga #1)

FOUND (The Sanders Saga #2)

Love & Redemption (The Florida Irish #1)

For Eternity (Time-Travel Romance #1)

Upcoming Fiction Novels:

Life & Deliverance (The Florida Irish Series #2)

Faith & Forgiveness (The Florida Irish Series#3)

Crossing Eternity (Time-Travel Romance #2)

Maire’s Song (Children of the Irish Series #1)

Tattooed

Upcoming Short Stories:

Flight Risk

A Miracle
For Mari (Young Adult)

SUIT

The Life & Times of Lucas McGilley (Young Adult, Historical Fiction)

Eden

If you have enjoyed this book, please support the author by leaving a book review at Amazon and
Goodreads. Thank you!

Available at Amazon and other online retailers

CHAPTER 1

Timothy Cooper, with his sandy-colored hair and sparkling blue eyes, was an absolute dream. Too bad he didn’t notice me.
Ever. Could be there were lots of prettier girls around. Or could be we were only seventeen and he wasn’t interested in a serious relationship.

I didn’t think I was ugly. In fact, I’d gotten comments from other boys saying different. I had brown eyes, nothing remarkable about that, but my lashes were long and dark. I also had thick, brunette hair with a natural wave to it. Girls always envied my hair. More than one told me every day was a good hair day where I was concerned.

But maybe Timothy Cooper wasn’t interested in brunettes. Or maybe he liked girls with stick figures because I didn’t have one of those either. That was embarrassing at times. Mom would take me to the big department store in the middle of town, and we’d have to shop in the women’s department to find clothes. I simply couldn’t wear those skinny, tight things made for girls my age.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t fat – overweight.
Just curvy. Which seemed like a good thing for the future, but not so much for a girl who was trying to fit in. And I wanted to fit in badly. I wanted the in-crowd to treat me as equals and Timothy Cooper to look my way.

But fate or the devil or whatever you believe in always conspired against me.
Until our teacher, Mrs. Walker, decided to put us in pairs.

***

“Taylor Lawton, you will work with Timothy Cooper …”

My head shot up from my desk into the eyes of the very boy I spent all my days thinking of, and my gut twisted.
Me and Timothy Cooper? Work together?
The twist in my gut became a stone.

Then he smiled, and the room became brighter than the noonday sun. “Guess you’re stuck with me,” he said.

Heaven help me, being stuck with Timothy Cooper wasn’t such a bad thing.

The teacher walked between us, her skirt swishing against her panty hose. “Now, this assignment,” she said, “will require you to share a bit about yourselves with each other, so you’ll need to schedule time after school to work together and be sure to take good notes.”

Time after school together with … with
him
? The fist curled itself around my insides and yanked.

Mrs. Walker fixed her gaze on my face, like she could see inside my head. “Pretend you’re writing a novel about the other person. Ask yourself what about their life you would put into the story and also, what you would change.”

She moved back toward the front of the class. Lisa Maiton threw a wad of paper at her butt, and snickers broke out.

“Once you’ve compiled all the information,” Mrs. Walker said, oblivious, “write one to two pages, double-spaced. It’s due next Monday. That gives you the weekend to finish. This assignment will teach us about writing and some about our fellow students as well.”

The class began chattering as she turned away, everyone figuring out how and when to spend time with their partner, yet I sat there my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth, my palms sweating.

Write about Timothy Cooper. Share my life with Timothy Cooper. I didn’t know which was worse. Or better.

“So … when you want to get together?” he asked.

Monday, today was Monday. I gathered my thoughts. And this was the second week in March of 2010. And my name was Taylor Marie Lawton. And–

“Taylor?”

I smacked my lips. I could use a glass of water.
“Y-yes. Taylor,” I said.

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re a funny one.”

A funny one what? Girl? Human being?

He opened his book bag and removed his cell phone, poising his finger over the digital keypad. “What’s your number?”

My number. Give my number to Timothy Cooper. Dear God.
I wiped my hands on my blue jeans. This wasn’t happening to me. I rattled off my number.

His thumb flicked across the keys. “Here, I’ll send you a text,
then you’ll have mine.”

My phone buzzed in my purse, and I bent to remove it. But I immediately faced a huge problem.
My shirt.

See, each day my primary consideration was what to wear for the big moment Timothy Cooper finally spoke to me. Okay, that was silly, but to me it was important. Yet this particular day, standing in my bedroom, looking at the mound of laundry I’d forgotten to do, I decided to wear the last thing in my closet I’d ever want him to see me in.

The shirt from Grandma.

I loved Grandma, but she had no idea what size I wore or what style was in. And that, I think, is par for the course in being a grandma. Therefore, this shirt was (a) too big and (b) inclined to gap open.

I hesitated, my phone buzzing incessantly inches away, and considered my options. I could be quick. Maybe with my hair fallen over me, he wouldn’t notice. Or I could hold the shirt to my chest with one hand, but that would make me look either inept or vain.

“You going to get that?” he asked.

I glanced up to see him grinning from ear to ear. Apparently, something about this situation was funny. I only hoped it wasn’t my shirt.

“How about you look away?” I said.

At this, his grin spread wider, and for some reason, that made me kind of mad.

“What if I don’t?” he asked.

I sat up straighter. My phone had stopped buzzing. “Well, that’s your choice, but I don’t think we know each other well enough for you to see all there is of me.”

He gave a snort and reclined in his desk, his arm thrown over the seat back. “What if I don’t want to see all there is to see of you?”

And I don’t know what came over me. This was, after all, Timothy Cooper, my dream guy, but sure as the world, I said the first thing that came to my head.