Chapter 1

“Do all guys get yelled at as much as you?”

At first, fifteen-year-old Jason Thomas thought he’d imagined the voice. Glancing up from his tablet PC, he noticed a girl standing by the open gate between his and the neighbor’s yard. And not just any girl, but a smoking hot redhead in a short skirt and tight T-shirt. She looked cool and confident, and he couldn’t believe it. Pretty girls rarely spoke to him. It wasn’t a coincidence a “friend” nicknamed him, Nerd Boy the Untouchable.

Earlier in the day, Jason’s Mom kicked him outside. “Go get some fresh air. Your Dad paid all that money for a fancy deck. Someone needs to use it.”

Reluctantly he’d left the cool sanctuary of his bedroom. Never mind the bright sun made it almost impossible to read. The screen on his tablet only got so bright. The umbrella over the patio table helped, and he’d managed, until now.

Jason rubbed his eyes and blinked. He tried not to stare, but how often did fair-skinned, red-haired beauties wander into his yard? She even had freckles!

He needed to say something. “Hi,” he said and stood. “Yeah, I have a knack for getting in trouble.” A knack? The most beautiful girl in the world asked him a question, and he said he had a knack. If she sneered and vanished back into the neighboring yard, he wouldn’t blame her one bit.

But instead of sneering, she smiled and nodded. “You must, ‘cause Mom and I hear it all the time.”

Now what? Should he apologize? Oh, I’m so sorry I get yelled at. What would one of the cool kids do? They’d do something stupidly impressive. Jason took two steps, vaulted the deck railing, and plummeted to the ground. Fortunately, he stuck the landing.

“Well done!” The girl said with a laugh. “But I bet your Mom’s going to yell at you—”

The French door at the back of his house swung open, and his mother stormed out. She must have had Alfred snooping on him again. “Jason, what are you thinking? We have stairs.” Then Mom noticed the girl and immediately switched gears. “Who’s your friend, Jason?”

“Hi,” the girl answered Mom’s question. “I’m Stephanie Timms. We moved in last week.”

“Hello, Stephanie,” Mom said, “I’m Shirley Thomas. We moved in just a few weeks before you. Dare-devil Jason,” she pointed, “isn’t normally so reckless, but he misses his friends.”

“Mom?” It took all his will power to keep from screaming. He forced a smile instead. “Could you stop talking, please.”

Stephanie covered her mouth, but it didn’t hide her grin.

“Well, excuse me, Mr. Knievel,” Mom shook her head and stomped back inside.

After the patio door closed, Stephanie asked, “Who’s Mr. Knievel?”

Shrugging, Jason turned back to his new neighbor. With most of his surprise worn off, he noticed her eyes were an odd pale green. “I don’t know,” he said, forcing himself to not stare. “Mom turned forty a while ago, and I think her mind is going.”

“Yeah, my mom drives me bonkers too. It was her idea for me to meet you.”

“Oh.” He tried not to let the disappointment show. The rational part of his mind rationalized it for him. What did you expect, nerd boy?

“Wow,” she said, “for a second there, you looked really sad.” Instead of sarcasm, there was honest interest in her voice.

“Well, I’d hoped you came over on your own. Not because someone forced you.”

That set Stephanie to staring as if he’d grown horns. She crossed her arms and tilted her head. Darn, but it made her even cuter. “I think,” she said, “you mean that.”

Now it was his turn to think. It wasn’t easy because of the girl’s attractiveness. His eyes kept wandering to places they shouldn’t. Finally, he forced his eyes up to hers. “Look, if you don’t want to hang out with me, you don’t have too.”

A light breeze played with Stephanie’s dark red hair. Sweat began to bead on his forehead. She tucked that bit of hair back behind her ear. “You want us to hang out, but only if I want to?“

Why did she look so surprised? “Yeah, that’s what I said.” He shrugged.

“Okay,” she said.

And that was all it took? Surprised, Jason gestured for Stephanie to precede him. Not that he didn’t hang back to watch her walk up the deck’s wrap around stairs.

“Want something to drink?” he asked, “Mom makes the best lemonade.”

“If it’s unsweetened, sure.”

“Wait, I almost forgot to introduce you.” Turning toward an outside camera, Jason called out, “Alfred?”

“Yes, Master Jason?” Alfred’s voice, in his best South-London accent, came from the attached speaker.

“Say hello to Stephanie, she’s,” he turned back to the girl and winked, “she’s a friend.”

“Hello, Miss Stephanie. I must say that Master Jason has a remarkable taste in friends.”

“Jason,” Stephanie gripped his arm, “who’s Alfred?”

“Alfred is our household AI. Now that he knows you, it’ll be easier the next time you visit.”

Stephanie smiled and waved towards the camera. “Hello Alfred, it’s nice to meet you too.”

Jason’s mother stood at the counter, running lemons through the juicer. A pitcher of ice water at the ready. “Oh,” she said, “it’s Evel Knievel and friend. Pull up a couple of stools, and I’ll pour you some lemonade.”

Jason pulled two stools out. “Stephanie wants hers without sugar.”

“No problem,” Mom replied, then turned to their guest. “Watching your figure?”

“Not really, Mom and I prefer tart flavors.”

After sitting, Stephanie’s head swiveled back and forth, taking everything in. “You have a beautiful kitchen, Mrs. Thomas.”

“Thank you, Stephanie. Here’s your lemonade.”

“Thank you.”

Jason took his glass and added a heaping spoon of sugar.

Mom made a small glass for herself, without sugar, and took a sip. Then she stole Jason’s spoon and added sugar to her glass. “Are you in the same grade as Jason?”

“I’m homeschooled. Mom doesn’t worry about grade levels.”

“How old are you then?”

“Sixteen.”

“What a coincidence, Jason turns sixteen in a few weeks. He’ll be in the eleventh grade this fall. Are you studying for your driver’s license?”

Stephanie shook her head. “No, my father won’t allow it.”

“Oh?” Mom gave Jason a sideways glance. She then turned back to Stephanie, “Does your mother work?”

“She’s my father’s personal assistant.”

“Well, ask your mother to call or come over for a cup of tea sometime.” Mom finished her drink and stood. “I’m going shopping. You two should go out on the deck.”

Kicked outside, they took seats at the patio table.

“Can I ask you a question?” Stephanie asked. “How many girlfriends do you have, right now?

What the heck? Did she think he was popular or something? “I don’t have any girlfriends right now. Although,” Jason leaned back and tried to look confident, “I am accepting applications.” He smiled crookedly, expecting her to get the joke. In the driveway, Mom beeped her minivan’s horn and drove away.

Stephanie may or may not have gotten the joke. In either case, she asked seriously, “What kind of girl are you looking for?”

Continuing the joke, he kept his voice serious. “Well, my ideal girlfriend would have to be pretty; I mean at least as pretty as you, with red hair and freckles. Oh, and she’d have to have beautiful eyes,” Jason leaned forward, closing the distance between them. “What color are your eyes?”

Stephanie leaned forward with her elbows on the table. The way she sat projected thoughtful confidence. “Mom says my eyes are peridot green.”

Last year’s science class covered gemstones. Interested in the subject, he’d spent some extra time reading about the subject. Peridots varied from dark olive to a pale, translucent green. This close, Stephanie’s eye color really stood out. “Like the gemstone?” he asked.

“Um-hmm. Just like it.”

“Well, I’ll add peridot green eyes to my list. Along with intelligence, my ideal girlfriend has to be smart.”

“Ah-ha!” she pounced. “Why do you think I’m smart?” Then she blushed and sat back.

She’d given him a perfect opportunity to tease her. But they both knew he’d been talking about her. Better to have it out in the open. “It’s your eyes. You pay attention to everything going on around you.”

“Still,” she said, “I’d think boys cared more about boobs than brains.”

Their brief trip inside for drinks had calmed him down, but Stephanie’s use of the “B” word threatened to start him sweating again. He decided to play innocent. “What do you mean?”

Now, her peridot green eyes twinkled with amusement. “You’ve stared at mine enough.” Her gaze flicked up to his hairline. “Uh oh, it looks like you’re sweating again.”