Paisley looked out the window from her bedroom, right across to the house next door. From it, she had a clear view of Braxton’s bedroom. Her desk was situated under that window, allowing her the liberty of watching him dress and undress every chance she got. She had become obsessed with observing him. Not in a stalkerish way. Or so she tried to convince herself every time she sat and stared at him. But who was she kidding? It was exactly like that, which was why she was sitting there in the dark focused on his bedroom window, waiting for the light to turn on.
She’d almost given up hope of seeing him tonight, but just after eleven, the lamp on his dresser clicked on and there he was. He stepped out of his jeans and pulled his T-shirt over his head. Within a few moments, he turned off his light. The moonlight was bright enough tonight that it gave her just enough light to still see his shadow move around in his room before he tossed himself onto his bed. Yeah, not a stalker at all.
It wasn’t long before Paisley’s phone chirped with an incoming text.
BRAXTON: I saw you in your window
PAISLEY: Yeah, I was watching the moon. It’s so full tonight, and so bright.
She hoped that he fell for her white lie. Braxton’s silhouette stood at the window, his face looking up to the sky, stealing a glance at the moon.
BRAXTON: It’s pretty amazing.
PAISLEY: Did you have fun tonight?
Deep down, she didn’t want the truth, but still, she had to ask. Even if it would shatter her heart. Everything inside of Paisley was dreading finding out if he and Jessica had gotten up close and personal. As much as she was certain it would hurt to find out, she also knew that if she didn’t, her imagination would create a bigger void in her heart—one she couldn’t allow to happen.
BRAXTON: I guess.
PAISLEY: You guess? How do you not know if you had fun or not?
BRAXTON: I don’t know, Paisley. Paxton is always bugging me about losing my virginity. I’m just not ready right now, you know?
PAISLEY: So, you and Jessica didn’t do anything?
Could it be? Her heart was speeding up in anticipation of his answer. Please say no. Say nothing happened.
BRAXTON: I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.
PAISLEY: Tell me what?
She eagerly awaited his response
BRAXTON: I let her give me a blow job. I didn’t enjoy it at all. It felt all wrong. Does that make me sound like a goober?
Paisley’s eyes misted over, and tears threatened to fall from them. He did it. He’d let that skank suck his dick. How was it that her heart was breaking, but she was still so in love with him?
PAISLEY: Oh! That’s too bad, Brax. Maybe next time you’ll enjoy it more.
BRAXTON: Paisley?
One word came across the screen but the dots continued to jump. Then they stopped, jumped again, then nothing.
PAISLEY: You still there? Did you want to say something?
In her head, she played it all out. His text was going to tell her that there wouldn’t be a next time because he would be waiting for her. She was the one he wanted. The dots began to jump once more.
BRAXTON: Never mind. I just wanted to say that I’m so glad I can tell you things and you won’t judge me. Aside from Paxton, you’re my next best friend.
PAISLEY: Night, Brax.
She couldn’t bring herself to say anything other than that. She didn’t want to be his best friend; she wanted to be his girlfriend. Braxton moved in front of the window and waved to her, then stepped away and out of her view.
Chapter 2 High School, Senior Year
A slew of college acceptance letters laid spread out on the kitchen table. Paxton and Paisley argued over where each of them wanted to go, neither of them wanting to attend the same college as the other. It was weird enough that they’d both chosen law as their majors, but attending the same classes wasn’t something either of them wanted to do.
“Stanford is ten times better than UCLA.” Paxton’s face glowed, his eyes sparkling, and his smile huge as he spoke.
Paisley’s nose wrinkled, her lips pressed together as she looked at her brother. “That’s your opinion.”
Paxton laughed at her. “It is not my opinion. If you look at stats, Stanford’s median GPA is 3.89 versus UCLA’s 3.74. The acceptance rate for Stanford is 12 percent, whereas UCLA is 30 percent, and the average LSAT is five points higher at Stanford.” Paxton raised his hand in the air. Brax leaned in and smacked his hand in the ultimate male high-five gesture.
“Well, more students apply to UCLA than Stanford, and the weather is much nicer in Southern California than it is in Northern California.”
Paxton looked over at Braxton. “She’s such an idiot sometimes. Aren’t you glad you’re not going to have to put up with her much longer? At least we’ll still be close enough to hang out on the weekends. Berkeley is only an hour away from Stanford.
Paisley’s face turned white as if all the blood had drained from her body. She’d assumed Braxton would stay close to home just as she was. Now, it looked like she would be the only person left in Southern California. She’d be all alone. “Wait. What? Berkeley? I didn’t know you were going to Berkeley, Brax. When did you decide that?”
Braxton shrugged his shoulders “Yesterday. I want to get as far away as possible from my parents. Mom’s already said if I stay close to home, she’ll visit every weekend. I don’t need my mommy coming to campus to visit me.”
Paxton punched Braxton in the arm. “Nothing kills a man’s sex life faster than his mommy.”
Paisley feverishly started digging around on the table, leafing through all the acceptance letters she’d received.
