Page 80 of The Man Next Door
He doesn’t pry.What happened with him? Where is he now? How much older than you was he?None of those questions are asked, and I find it incredibly refreshing.
* * *
My head was buriedin the latest Dean Koontz book when I spotted Izzie in the distance, walking to the bus stop. I shot her a wave and earmarked my book. I was thrilled to see her because she’d been missing in action all weekend.
She ignored me and walked right by as if I weren’t even there. She chatted up Kelly and Karla who were practically glued at the hips. I was irked by the sight of the three of them, blonde, perky and babbling about who knows what.
What the hell is her problem?
The three of them wore short skirts and tight t-shirts.
The three fucking slutty Musketeers.
Kelly flipped her long hair, an annoying habit of hers. And Karla chewed at her nails. Izzie shot me a sidelong glance. If looks could kill, I would have been dead on the ground.
I needed to get to the bottom of this. I slowly made my way to join them. Kelly and Karla were all smiles. “Hey, Abby. What’s up?” Kelly asked. “I like your hair up like that.”
“Thanks,” I replied meekly. “I’m good.”
I ventured a look at Izzie, who was still shooting daggers at me. “What’s going on with you, Izzie?”
She tore her gaze from mine. “The usual.”
Uh… so it’s going to be like that.
The yellow bus turned into the park, and all the kids packed up their things, threw their backpacks over their shoulders, and waited patiently for the driver to drive up and pop open the doors.
I stood at the back of the line and nipped at Joey Davidson’s heels. He was the smallest kid on the bus and always the last to climb in. He always sat by his lonesome at the front by the driver.
When I finally made my way up on the bus, I smiled at Miss Melody, our driver, and studied my options. I always sat with Izzie, and there she was, sitting alone. Kelly and Karla were seated together just behind her.
Izzie sat at the edge of the seat, refusing to welcome me in. I scowled at her and shoved myself next to her aggressively. She had no choice but to move.
“Why don’t you sit somewhere else?” she scoffed.
“Because I want to sit with you,” I snapped back. “What the hell is your problem anyway?”
“You’re a slut,” she whispered. “That’s my problem.”
I stifled a laugh. Me… the slut. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. “What?”
“I saw you,” she fumed.
“You saw me when?” I asked, extremely confused.
“I followed you on Friday,” she confessed. “When you and Gavin were talking outside. I knew something was going on between you two.”
“You followed me where?” I asked, still confused.
“You went to his place,” she said, a little too loudly. “And you were there for a while. What did you guys do in there?”
I was fuming. “None of your business.”
“He’s like thirty or something,” she went on. “You’re such a little slut.”
I turned my head. The whole bus was listening, highly entertained.
“He’s twenty-seven actually,” I whispered.
