The Tattooed Devil Wears Chucks

The New Neighbor: Jax

Gabby.

I toss my backpack to the floor of Courtney's hot-pink bedroom and take in my surroundings, attempting to learn a little more about my new friend and neighbor. It's a bit disheveled. Everything is still in boxes from their move, but she does have band posters plastered to her walls—good ones.

She really does have awesome taste in music, I think to myself, continuing my nosy scan of her personal space.

"Sorry, haven't had time to unpack." She moves a cardboard box from her desk chair to her floor.

I begin pointing to the posters that I like the most. "Against Me!, Jimmy Eat World, Foo Fighters, Modest Mouse...such good bands. And they are all signed."

"My brother and I used to go to a lot of concerts." She smiles and pulls out her textbooks.

"Used to?"

I swivel around to view her, wondering why they would stop. I can't imagine it was because they had a bad time. I wish I had seen these concerts. The only one I've seen live is Against Me! with Felix and Kane. It took a lot of convincing to get them to allow me to tag along, but the three of us had a blast. The show was an amazing experience. They weren't as well-known back then, and we were able to get the tickets cheap. We were up against the stage the entire night. They started my love of tattooed sleeves on musicians.

"A lot has changed the last few years. He's...different," she refers to her brother with a roll of her green eyes.

Realizing she doesn't seem to want to stick to the brother subject, I grab my bag to begin our night of studying. I take my place on the edge of her bed and pull out my book, flipping it to the correct page for our assignment. I cross my legs like a pretzel to make myself more comfortable, knowing we are in for a long night. I'm foolishly pretending as if studying is something I actually do on a regular basis. My parents would never allow me to have a sleepover with Morgan on a school night, especially when grounded. One mention of the word "study" and my mom practically shoved me out the door, saying she'd talk to dad about it when he got home.

We already decided that tonight we would be making a poster on the scientific method. We stopped at my house to pick up the poster board, and Courtney had assured me she had plenty of construction paper and stickers to last us a lifetime. She was not lying. As I sit here on her bed, I watch her open a box the size of a kitchen sink filled to the brim with stickers.

"Childhood obsessions really do come in handy." She giggles, pulling out multiple packs of tiny stars. Every color of the rainbow is accounted for, and I can see as she begins sorting that we are not limited to just the shape of stars. "My mom wanted me to throw them away when we were packing. I haven't used them since I was a kid, but I just couldn't get rid of them."

I select a pack of large, multicolored, glittered circles that would make our poster look snazzy and place them beside me before digging into the box further. "These are perfect!"

"Me and you tonight, snot." Courtney's bedroom door swings open, causing me to turn to the deep, masculine voice over my left shoulder. I could self-combust from the heat wave the hits me when I do. "What are we eating?"

My lungs stop functioning at the sight of the mystery guy who has entered Courtney's room—a man with tattooed sleeves that stop at the knuckles of his fingers and travel up his neck. His hair is a light shade of brown, cut short to a military-style, with a bit of stubble forming a shadow on his face. A light gray tee clings to his abs—leaving nothing to my imagination—with tight, ripped, black jeans and... black, high-top Chuck Taylors.

My eyes become glued to his shoes, ones that match the ones I was wearing up until about ten minutes ago when we entered the Parker house. I'll be keeping my eyes right here, because I'm on the verge of melting if I see the tattoos again. He can't be that hot, right? Guys like that don't exist, especially not in Luxberg. Talking myself out of my current libido spike, I bring myself to look up again. The stranger's attention shifts to the unknown girl sitting on his sister's bed, causing goosebumps to lift from my skin in reaction. Piercing green eyes—like Courtney's but a deeper shade, appearing almost haunted—connect with mine. Courtney's voice dwindles in the background. I catch something about pizza, but I'm still caught in this weird connection that has my head dizzy and my stomach launching itself into a series of flips. As hard as I try not to, my breathing becomes erratic, making it way too obvious that it was him that impacted it.