One of the Boys

"You like him."

"LA LA LA LA!" I screamed as I pulled my pillow over my head and smushed my face into the mattress. Maybe the Tempurpedic would suffocate me.

"Lydia, I can tell by the way you looked!" Annabelle said excitedly, and I could hear the smile on her face. I groaned loudly and curled up, pulling my fluffly green comforter over my entire body. This wasn't something I was up for, and if there hadn't been some sort of truce created this afternoon, I would have told her to put a sock in it. Annabelle giggled loudly enough for my poor ears to hear, and suddenly, she was beside me. To my misfortune, only a one-inch thick layer of fabric separated us, which she pulled off of me and shook my shoulders. I grabbed my pillow and whacked her with it, but she continued to laugh.

"And you know what else?" she asked.

"You're annoying?"

"I think he likes you back!"

I wanted to vomit. Nothing came up, which tempted me to stick my finger down my throat and make something come up. I sat up slowly and sighed, the same warm feeling suddenly rushing into my gut that had overwhelmed me before.

"Do you have butterflies?" she asked. Bleh. Was that what this feeling was called?

"I don't know . . . " My voice trailed off. Annabelle rested quietly beside me. The grin remained on her face - even when I gave her a death stare - as if she knew I really did get butterflies, or some other damn insect in my stomach.

"It's whatever. I don't care," I stated and shrugged.

"You're being defensive."

"What's there to be defensive about? I don't like him. He gets under my skin. He's a stupid jock, and he means nothing to me."

"You like what he does to you. He's not afraid of you like most are. You like the way he gets under your skin."

"That's what she said."

Annabelle smirked a bit, but I could tell she was trying to be serious and put words in my mouth.

"Hello, dears," Eliza said, appearing the doorway. Annabelle greeted her, of course, and I merely nodded at her. What? At least I'd acknowledged her. "I'd like to talk to Lydia, please, Belle," she added. Annabelle nodded in understanding, but before she left, she turned to me.

"Remember, I'll help you with anything. I'm always around," she said, then proceeded to exit the room. Eliza took the place next to me on the bed where Annabelle had just inhabited; honeslty, she didn't seem pissed in the least. I could change that, however.

"What's up, 'Liza?" I asked as I dropped back against my pillow, my eyes staring toward the ceiling instead of her.

"We need to have a bit of a talk," she said politely, her eyes on me. "It's about your stay here."

"Is it time for me to leave already? Damn!" I shot up like a bullet and made my way over to the dresser.

"Now hold on just a sec there, Lydia," she said. "Your stay hasn't ended just yet. You've only been here for a little over a month, you know."

"Yeah, and?" I tapped my foot against the floor in impatience, my suitcase next to the dresser waiting to be stuffed with all my clothes.

"Now, after the first month, we usually contact your parents and let them know how things are going, y'know, all the routine stuff. They usually give us an update on how they are doing financially and such. We also discuss the matters of how long you will be staying here."

"And . . .?" Cut to the chase?

"Well, that's the problem." Eliza fumbled with the hem of her shirt before looking back up at me and meeting my gaze. "We cannot get in contact with your parents."

So? That was the big deal?

"They're probably busy," I said flatly. "They're trying to make money and all that shit."

"But they know that we are going to have to talk and whatnot, dear," she tried to reason. "This is foster care, not your new permanent home."

"Thank God."

"Alright, I can see you don't care. Sorry I bothered. I'll let you get back to doing nothing." Eliza stood, her eyes blazing with disappointment and annoyance. There went that good mood of hers.

"Thanks much," I said, waving her on her way. Once she was outof my sight, I plopped down on my bed and groaned, feeling like the sky was pressing down on me. I was bruised slightly from Sapia's tackle, but I could stick it out. What I couldn't bear, though, was the feeling swelling in my guts as my mind flashed back to Buzz. I almost felt a smile creep onto my lips, which caused me to bash my head into my pillow. I felt like two entirely different people suddenly, or as though someone was controlling my thoughts and my actions were of my own doing.

However, I couldn't help but wonder if there was even the slightest possibility that Buzz might, well, like me. I mean . . . maybe it wouldn't be so bad . . .

I sat up and stared over at the mirror on my closet door, my reflection staring back at me. I saw a boy with blonde hair and gray eyes where I sat wearing torn and mud covered jeans and a hoodie. Hello, Lydio.

I stood up and exited my room, making my way down the hallway to Annabelle's room. Not bothering to knock, I barged in and found her laying face down on her bed, her nose buried in a Cosmo magazine. She jumped up, startled by my entrance.

"What's up, Lydia?" she asked.

"I need your help," I admitted, which was hard to let escape my mouth.

"With what?"

"Becoming a girl."