Against All Odds (3 page)

And now, as I creep up my sidewalk and into the side door, I’m reminded that I’m used to this. Sneaking around in the dark, trying to avoid things I never wanted to happen in the first place.

My dad is a heavy sleeper. He has been ever since I was little. Which would have come in handy if I was the type of kid who wanted to sneak out in the middle of the night and go on some crazy adventure, but I wasn’t that kind of kid. And that’s why my dad still hasn’t learned about my poor sleeping habits.

But I have no idea if Missy and Nathan sleep the way my dad does, so I try to be as quiet as possible as I close the door behind. I tiptoe into the kitchen and start fumbling around in the cabinet looking for the coffee.

Coffee has become a very important part of my life this last year. It pretty much keeps me going when I feel like I won’t make it through the day. At first it was just a little bit of a pick me up, but now I depend on it to keep me awake throughout the day. I know this probably isn’t too healthy for me, but either is barely sleeping.

I overflow the filter with coffee and stuff it inside the coffee pot. Then, just as I start filling a pitcher of water to dump into the water tank, the overhead lights in the kitchen spring to life. I jump back, spilling the water all over the front of my shirt.

I turn around and see Nathan standing there staring at me, taking in my appearance. I glance down at my black sweat pants and gray Boston t-shirt covered in water and suddenly feel very self-conscious. I would soon learn he has a way of doing this to everyone, but at this moment I just want the feeling to go away.

His eyes are still on the front of my shirt before traveling to the empty pitcher of water in my hand. “You know, if you’re in the mood for a midnight snack, it usually helps to have a light on.”

I don’t say anything. I’m forming a million thoughts in my head but no words come out of my mouth. This is because Nathan’s shirtless body is distracting me. I’m not kidding. He’s standing in my kitchen with no shirt on like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His muscles are tanned and I can’t help but stare at his ripped stomach.

Nathan notices me looking at him and smirks to himself. “Like what you see?”

I tear my eyes away from his body and turn the sink faucet back on, refilling my pitcher of water.

“If you’re looking for an apology because I woke you up you’re not going to get it,” I tell him defiantly.

“Actually,” he says opening the cabinet next to the sink, reaching up to grab the bottom part of the blender off the top shelf, “you didn’t. I’m up at this time every day.”

As he brings his hand back down to set the blender on the counter his bare arm brushes against mine. I feel a chill shoot straight through my body. Who walks around in the middle of October with no shirt on? Honestly.

I swing my body around to the other side of the kitchen to where the coffee pot is and pour the water in. “Why would you possibly get up this early every day?”

He opens the fridge and starts digging around inside. “It’s basketball season.

Which means I have a workout routine to stick to.”

I flip the switch on the coffee machine and it comes to life. “One that involves waking up at three thirty in the morning?” I ask.

He emerges from the fridge and drops a handful of supplies onto the counter next to me. I glance over to see what he has, curious in spite of myself. Bananas, strawberries, blueberries, and yogurt. Great, he’s a health nut too.

“What,” he says bending down and grabbing a bottle of protein powder from under the counter, “you think being an all-star comes naturally?”

I roll my eyes and grab a mug out of the dishwasher, placing it on the counter as I patiently wait for my coffee to brew. I’ve already decided this conversation is over, but apparently Nathan doesn’t think so because I’m all too aware of the fact that he’s staring at me.

I squirm a little as I feel his eyes travel up and down my body. “I think the real question here is what my new sister is doing up at three thirty in the morning?”

“Do not,” I say turning to look at him for the first time, “call me that.”

Now that I’m up close I can see that his eyes are even bluer than I originally thought. They’re kind though. And to my surprise, they’re filled with playfulness. He grins at me as I turn back to the coffee pot, trying not to look at him.

As he drops a bunch of fruit into the blender I’m all too aware of the fact that his body is brushing up against mine again. I take a step away from him and catch a grin spread across his face.

I pick up the coffee pot, not waiting for it to finish brewing, and pour what I can of the steaming hot liquid into my cup. Then I place the pot back on its holder and make a move to get the hell out of here. But as I try to exit Nathan turns his shirtless body to me and blocks my path. We’re face to face now. He’s so close I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to, which I don’t.

“You never answered my question,” he says playfully. “Do you like what you see?” I sigh and try to push past him, but he stops me again. “Don’t take it personally, but I make it a rule to not sleep with girls I’m living with. There’s nowhere to run once they get all clingy. I’m sure you understand.”

Unbelievable. He’s even worse than I thought he’d be.

I reach into my coffee cup and flick some of the burning hot coffee onto his skin.

He jumps back a little bit. “I think I’ll survive.”

If the temperature of the liquid affects him he doesn’t show it. And as I walk by him toward the door he just laughs. “Feisty. I like it.”

I roll my eyes as I start to climb the stairs, hearing him call out to me in the distance, “Nice to meet you too.”

Chapter Three

I feel like my house isn’t even mine anymore.

Missy didn’t just move in. She’s moved all of her stuff in too. Each room I enter is like a new and exciting world that I’m just now discovering for the first time.

The couch my mom and I picked out one year ago for her birthday? Gone. The dinning room table that we’ve had my entire life? Also gone. Coffee table in our family room? Oh well, that’s gone too.

It’s as if Missy has come in and somehow erased all of my favorite things, all the things that have the most memories for me. And my dad is just letting her. Most people would assume I’d be used to how selfish he is by now, to how little he cares about anyone but himself, but it still feels like a slap in the face every time he acts this way.

As for Nathan’s room? Well, it’s like something out of a movie. His bed is twice the size of mine, as is his dresser. He has shelves filled with various awards for the numerous sports he played. He has more cologne then I have perfume. And his shoes?

Forget it. He has the most expensive basketball sneakers money can buy, along with the most expensive shoes for every other sport you can imagine.

It’s shocking to me how someone who’s such a jerk can have so many positive things. How someone who cares only about himself can get so much attention. It’s unbelievable.

If Nathan is the least bit concerned about picking up and leaving his old life behind he’s certainly not showing it. In fact, it’s just the opposite. He seems to love having a new life and is not the least bit fazed by it.

For example, right now he’s happily eating his cereal and fruit like this is the most natural thing in the world. Like he’s lived in this house forever. Like he eats breakfast with us every morning. Me, on the other hand, I’m staring at the cup of coffee in front of me, feeling miserable.

“So,” my dad says glancing up from reading the paper at the head of our “new”

table, “are you ready for your first day Nathan?”

I can’t remember the last time my dad actually sat down and had breakfast in the morning. Even before my mom died he never made time to sit down and eat with us.

He’s always running out the door almost as soon as you see him. He always says there isn’t enough time in the day for all the things he has to take care of at the office.

My dad is a partner at this really exclusive law firm in the city. They deal with a lot of celebrities, doing damage control for them and that sort of thing. He’s very high profile and he likes it that way. You can always tell when my dad has a good day at the office. He comes home all starry-eyed and giggling, acting like a schoolboy again. Most of the time this means some super high profile celebrity requests him to represent them.

My dad is the best, and he has a reputation for getting people off. Even when they’re clearly guilty.

My dad doesn’t concern himself with things like guilt or innocence though. Or things like right and wrong. He lives by the sole motto that he has a job to do. And that job is to get people off from whatever charge they’re facing. Things like the truth are a very small price to pay for him.

“So ready, “Nathan says taking the last bite of his cereal and pushing his empty bowl across the table, which his mother jumps in to pick right up and bring into the kitchen for him. Apparently Nathan is helpless, since she pours his cereal and cuts up his fruit too. “I’m looking forward to the change of pace,” he says.

He sure is being nice to my dad for someone who thinks my dad’s such a tool and all. I almost want to point this out to him, but it’s not like I can without admitting I was following him around less than a month ago. So I have no choice but to let it go.

“Well,” my dad says taking a sip of his coffee, “I’m sure Victoria will show you around, help you get settled. Won’t you Victoria?”

Um, no, Victoria will not be showing anyone around. Victoria would rather walk across burning hot fire than spend any more time then is absolutely necessary with her soon to be stepbrother.

“I actually have to get to school early today to work on a project,” I say so everyone can hear me. “So, I really can’t. I’m sorry.”

My dad shoots me an annoyed look from across the table and I quickly look away.

Nathan notices the exchange and smirks. “That’s actually perfect,” he says. “I want to get there early to check out the gym anyway.”

My dad’s face lights up at Nathan’s words as I feel my face turn into an instant frown. Who’s he trying to fool? Acting like we’re all some big happy family? I push my chair away from the table and Nathan follows suit immediately.

“Oh, let me get that,” Missy says sweeping in to take my coffee cup out of my hand.

I pull back. “I can do it myself.”

A hurt expression comes across her face. Nathan reaches over and grabs the mug out of my hand and gives it to his mom. Whatever. I grab my bag and start out the door, Nathan on my heels.

Once we’re outside I come to a stop in the middle of the driveway and he’s so close that he nearly crashes into me.

“You can stop the whole Brady Bunch routine already,” I snap at him.

He cocks his face to the side and pretends to be confused. “I’m starting to feel like you don’t like me very much.”

“Gee,” I say walking toward my car, “you don’t miss a thing.” Then, to my complete surprise and horror, he follows, walking around to my passenger door.

He pushes his book bag up higher on his shoulder as I take the chance to study him. He’s wearing these light faded blue jeans paired with one of his many pairs of Nike sneakers. These ones are dark blue and I can’t help but notice they match his eyes almost exactly. He’s paired them with a navy blue polo, the first few buttons undone, and a black hooded zip-up. His hair is still wet from the shower and he looks like he just stepped out of an Abercrombie ad.

Me, on the other hand, I’m not as well put together as him. I’m wearing dark blue jeans and a dark red sweatshirt with the words NEW YORK written across the chest. My brown hair is up in a sloppy bun and I’m pretty sure bags are starting to form under my eyes. This could have something to do with the fact that I barely slept last night, not to mention the fact that I haven’t had a chance to finish a full cup of coffee in the last six hours.

“Um,” I say staring at him on the other side of my car, “don’t you want to take your own car?”

He shrugs. “Not really.”

What is it with this kid? Can’t he take a hint?

“But you have practice after school,” I point out.

“But you have to stay after for newspaper,” he points out, jiggling the handle on the car door like he’s getting impatient.

What does the kid have a book on my life or something? I don’t feel like driving him. I’ve already decided that I don’t want to be around him at all. I’m about to tell him this when I glance up and see my dad’s face peering at us through the kitchen window. I sigh and hit the unlock button on my car.

Once we’re in the car I flip the radio on and turn it up way louder than necessary, hoping he’ll get the hint that I really don’t want to talk to him. But, of course he doesn’t.

“So,” he says reaching over and calmly turning the radio down, “what were you doing up at three thirty in the morning?”

What the hell is this kid’s problem? Can’t he see that I’m not buying the whole nice guy act?

This is the thing about guys like Nathan Daley. They get through life by making girls feel like they care. They look at a girl and they read them. Then they make them feel special so they can get exactly what they want out of them. No way in hell am I going to tell him I have trouble sleeping. Angelina doesn’t even know that. On the other hand, I’m smart enough to know that he’s the type of person who’s not likely to drop something until he gets an answer.

“Oh, you know,” I say hitting the turn signal and switching lanes, “just the usual, wild crazy night out.”

He looks at me skeptically, taking in my appearance as he does. “You had a wild and crazy night?”

“What,” I say, “hard to believe?”

He smiles. “You’re trying to impress me by making up a wild and crazy life.”

“Believe it or not Nathan, not everything is about you.”

He laughs and pulls his iPhone out of his pocket. “Well the twenty six Facebook messages I got from kids who go to your school prove otherwise.”

The twenty-six Facebook messages? What is he talking about? He already has friends at my school? He hasn’t even had his first day yet. Is this some kind of joke?