Smile

When the doorbell rang, I didn't know what expect. I hadn't been expecting anyone, and Sam normally waltzed right in like he lived here. "Coming!" I shouted, getting up from my seat in the kitchen, were my homework was splayed out on the breakfast counter. I could hear Dad blasting his oldie's rock from the garage, where he was playing car mechanic. The man hardly knew a thing about cars.

Nate was playing in the living room, and as I walked by, I heard Spongebob Squarepants playing softly on the television. Nathan probably wasn't listening even a little. Through the screen door, I saw Tom Baczak. "Whoa," I whispered. "What do you want, Tom?"

He stared at me. "Hello to you, too. It's a lovely day, isn't it?" He flashed me one of his charming little smiles and I rolled my eyes. "I think this is yours." Tom held out a book. I opened the screen door and took it from him, examining the cover.

"No, this isn't mine." I handed it back to him. "I don't read Michael Crichton."

"Are you sure? 'Cause I thought I saw your name in it." He opened the front cover to show me. My name was scribbled in the upper left right hand corner. I made a face, and looked at him. It was my handwriting, but I couldn't remember ever buying the book, let alone anything by Michael Crichton.

"Where did you find it, anyway?" I took it back, not in the mood for an argument with him.

"School. I had a detention today and it was in Vandersi's room." His eyes glittered in the sunset, and I couldn't help but stare at him. Tom was handsome, always had been. But there was that little quality in his personality that was always a turn off - he was quite a douchebag. We stared at each other for another long moment, before he asked, "what are you doing on Friday night?"

I was taken aback by his question. "Uh - nothing. I mean.. why?" He had caught me completely off guard, and I wanted to smack him for it.

"A couple of us are going to the beach. It'd be cool if you went. Sort of like when we were younger." He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and I stared at his forearms for a little bit longer than I had intended to. He had muscular arms - guitar playing and football had done him good, apparently.

"I'll think about it," I mumbled.

Tom nodded, a smile on his lips. He had an air of cockiness to him, and I didn't like it. "Good. It'll be fun. Let me know, k?" And without another word, he stepped off of the front porch and headed across the street. I watched him until he went into his house, where I saw a brief glimpse of him through the front window.

*

"What?"

Sam stared at me with a confused expression. "Yeah," I murmured. "It's really weird."

"That all sounds like a ton of bullshit to me. Seriously? He should just leave you alone." Sam swiped his hand through the dirty hair atop of his head, and leaned back against the couch. "Did he say anything else?"

I sighed. "He came over saying that this stupid book was mine." I held up the Michael Crichton book, and threw it into Sam's lap. "I have never owned any of this guy's books."

"Sounds like he needed an excuse to come talk to you," Sam shrugged, grabbing the television remote and flipping through the channels.

I groaned, and swatted his arm. "Whose side are you on, dude? I thought you hated him."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Did I say anything about liking him? He wanted a reason to come talk to you, so he had someone forge your name in the book so that he could give it to you. Think about how weird it would've been if he had just come over without any other reason." He looked at me, and I clenched my jaw.

"You should still go," a certain red haired girl named Auriana said. She was the only girl that I got along with, and although we didn't hang out as often as we would both like to, we still considered each other pretty good friends. "How often do you get to hang out with a really hot guy like Tom?"

Sam and I groaned simultaneously. "You're kidding, right?" I asked, throwing my head back. "Tom used to put gum in my hair."

"Exactly why you shouldn't," Sam argued. "It's probably a trick."

"Shut up, Sam," Auriana countered. "You've never even had a girlfriend. How would you know any of this?"

"Because I've seen the movies, Auri," Sam countered, like it should've been obvious.

"None of that stuff ever happens," Auriana said, picking at her fingernails. "It's up to you, lady. I think you should go, just because it'd do you some good to get out of the house and hang out with people besides dirty ol' Sam over there."

I groaned, and slid off of the couch. The two of them had only been here for about an hour and a half and were already starting to drive me nuts. I retreated to the front porch, where unfortunately I came into Tom's direct line of vision. He sat by himself on his front porch, green earbuds planted firmly into his ears. A small smile crept onto his face and I sighed, sitting down on the swing.

Tom and I had never gotten along, no matter how hard we tried. When we played on the same team for the neighborhood round of kickball, we constantly argued and fought each other. In elementary school, he always had to be better, faster, and smarter than I was. It was intense competition that eventually sort of died, especially after I stopped caring about my grades. So, I suppose it was pretty understandable that it weirds me out immensely that he's started talking to me. Tom has never paid attention to me in my entire life. Sure, we might've kissed for the occasional spin-the-bottle game, but we never spoke to each other. We hardly acknowledged each others' existence.

"God, Laura, you can't just leave," Auriana whined as she came out onto the porch with me. "It's your house."

"Yeah, and you and Sam are my best friends," I replied apathetically. "I can do whatever I want."