My mom called me at nine in the morning, telling me that my car was finally finished getting serviced and that I could pick it up today.

Thank God.

Not having the freedom to go anywhere you want whenever you want is actually brutal. So even though my head felt out of sorts and my stomach was doing uneasy flips, I jumped out of Lindsay's bed and told her to get ready.

"For what?" she groaned, shoving her face into her pillow.

"You need to take me home. My car's ready."

"Can't you wait," she muffled.

"Get up," I said, ignoring her question.

I walked out of her room, down the hall, and into the kitchen. I poured two glasses of ice-cold water—one I chugged down and then refilled. I got the Advil bottle out of their medicine cabinet and poured six pills into my hand. I popped three into my mouth and chased them down with my second glass of water.

Then I headed back to Lindsay's room. She hadn't moved, so I walked up to her and pushed her hard. "I got you Advil and water. Now come on."

"Allie," she whined.

"It's like a six-minute drive to my house."

Finally she lifted her head up and glared at me as she took the glass of water and Advil from my hands. She glared at me the whole time as she drank and swallowed.

"I hate you," she said when she had finished.

"I know," I replied and walked to the other side of her room to get my purse and shoes. I heard her get up off her bed and rustle with her dresser drawers.

When I turned back around she was putting on a sweatshirt. She had changed into a tank top and yoga pants. Lazily slipping her converse onto her feet, she trudged towards me and grumbled, "Let's go."

It only took a few minutes of her driving before the regular Lindsay I knew was back. Even though she was still clearly tired and hungover, you could hear the pep seeping back into her voice as she continued to talk about how shitty last night was.

"Fuck Austin," I said to her after she had been going in circles again about how him and Rory were flirting all night. "He's really not that great, Linds, you know you could do better."

"Better," Lindsay scoffed under her breath.

"What was that?"

"I didn't say anything."

"You said 'better' like you didn't believe it."

Nothing made me more upset than Lindsay expressing her lack of self-confidence. It was getting to the point where I just didn't know what to do to show her how worthy she was of only the best. She was kind and beautiful and smart, but no matter how many times I told her that, her mentality never changed.

And lately, especially lately, she even started to get snappy with me when I tried to talk to her about it.

"Well then you must not have heard my tone correctly," she persisted, stepping on the gas to run a yellow light. Before I could get a word in, she changed the subject. "Spencer was looking for you last night."

"I know," I said on a dramatic exhale.

"Was he texting you?"

"Do you really need me to answer that?"

Lindsay snorted. "Well, I think he's starting to catch the feels."

I suppressed a groan and repeated, "I know."

"You do realize how crazy that is, right?" Lindsay said. "Spencer is one of the biggest fuckboys at Whitewood. Him having feelings for anyone is unheard of."

"Not unheard of," I said, but by the time I got to the word 'of' I was basically whispering. Because as I was saying it I realized that she was right. It was unheard of.

Lindsay continued to argue with me as she pulled onto my street, but I wasn't listening. My eyes were fixated on the house across the street from mine. 

As we got closer, the driveway finally came into full view. And there he was. Standing next to the large, silver Suburban. A cardboard box was by one of the tires.

He was kneeling over a pile of wood and a toolbox, examining each of the pieces and organizing them into individual piles. He looked up at the sound of Lindsay's car and watched as we pulled into my driveway. 

Lindsay must've caught on that I wasn't paying attention to her chatting and she was now also staring at the boy across the street in her rearview mirror.

"Who is that?" she asked. I could hear her smiling.

"New neighbors," I said bluntly and began to gather my stuff.

"He's cute. Have you met him yet?"

"No," I replied. "Thanks for the—"

"We should go talk to him. Introduce ourselves."

"Why the fuck would we do that?"

But she was already out of the car. Before closing the driver's door, she smiled sweetly at me. "It's only polite, Al."

I cursed under my breath and quickly got out of the car. She didn't make it far, thank God, and I grabbed her forearm to stop her from walking. I hissed, "Lindsay. Don't."

"Why not?" She raised her eyebrows with slight amusement.

"You're going to embarrass me," I blurted before I could really process what I was saying.

She smirked, hey blue eyes dancing with amusement. "I thought Allison Carson doesn't get embarrassed."

I glared at her. "That's not what—"

"It's never easy being the new kid. I'm sure he'd appreciate the gesture," Lindsay cut me off. Her smirk turned into a grin that was somehow sweet and nefarious at the same time. "You know, it wouldn't hurt to be nice every once in a while."

I scoffed. "I'm nice."

But she was already out of my grasp and trotting across the street, her light auburn hair swishing behind her.

Kill me.

"Hi!" she said enthusiastically once she was close enough to him to not be full on yelling.

 He watched her with a blank look on his face as she approached and set down the piece of wood he was holding. I was nearing him now too after reluctantly dragging my feet across the street to follow behind her. His eyes shifted from hers to mine, just for a second.

"I'm Lindsay," she said, stretching out her hand.

"Lindsay," he repeated, hesitating before returning her handshake.

From afar, his eyes had looked brown, but now that I was up close I could see they were hazel—a mixture of green and gray with flecks of gold. They were focused on Lindsay and I couldn't help but feel a little left out.

"Yes," I heard my best friend confirm as I reached the two, standing beside, but just a tad behind, Lindsay with my arms crossed.

"I'm Tyler," he said, glancing between the two of us. A nervous look flashed in his eyes, but his face remained expressionless.

"It's nice to meet you," she replied with her confident smile—the one that reached her eyes. Even though I felt uncomfortable, I always loved to see her smile like that.

Maybe her and my new neighbor could be a thing. Maybe he was the guy she'd been waiting for.

"Did you just move here?" she asked.

"Yesterday," he replied shortly.

His voice was hard, but smooth, like his words rolled off his tongue and then fell to the ground with a thud that made my knees feel heavy. It was a calming voice—pretty hot, honestly—but I felt a little off balance every time I heard it. And when his eyes zoned in on me, I had to flick my own away.

I tucked my messy blonde hair behind my ears.

Get it to-fucking-gether, Allison.

Why was I acting like this? Why was I feeling so self-conscious? Anxious. Nervous.

He's not even that hot. I reminded myself.

I took a deep breath, my lips curling up at the ends as I lifted my had back up, exuding nothing but confidence from my eyes.

Don't look down again.

"Where are you from?" Lindsay asked and I almost kicked her calf. We introduced ourselves. That was the plan. There was no need to drag out the conversation any longer.

"San Diego," he answered.

Lindsay gasped in adoration. "I love San Diego. I've been dreaming about going to University of San Diego for years."

I resisted an eye roll. Here we go. Now we were going to be here forever.

Lindsay had been talking about USD since freshman year after she spent an entire summer with her parents in San Diego. She was obsessed. And for over three years now, I had the pleasure of hearing about it.

From the corner of my eye I watched as Tyler just responded with one, simple nod.

"Anyway," Lindsay started cheerfully. As I was thanking God that she moved on so quickly from the USD topic, I quickly took my gratitude back.

Because Lindsay's hand had grabbed my forearm as she pulled me forward so I was no longer lingering behind her.

"This is Allie. She lives over there."

As Lindsay turned and pointed, I felt Tyler's sole attention on me. I crossed my arms over my chest again, for some reason feeling a little self-conscious under his stare.

Quickly, I regained my composure and deliberately hooded my eyelids lustfully. It was a look I had mastered over the years. I could get any guy—and had gotten every guy—I wanted under my thumb with this gaze. It never failed me.

But Tyler remained unfazed. He almost looked annoyed.

I felt a pang in my diaphragm. Why wasn't he giving me anything back?

In response to Lindsay's information, Tyler only said, "I know."

Lindsay turned back to him with her head cocked to one side and before she could even ask what he was talking about, he continued.

"Her parents came over last night." A beat. "But she had other plans."

There was something about his tone that rubbed me the wrong way. It wasn't laced with any emotion. It almost felt like he was stating a fact he read from a textbook. Like he expected me to 'have other plans.'

Obviously I do. Obviously I did. Pardon me for not attending the bestowment of Amelia Carson's shitty lasagna. 

He doesn't know me, yet he was acting like he did. It seemed like he was judging me, but at the same time, it seemed like he didn't even care.

I bit the inside of my lip to stop myself from saying something snarky as anger burned my throat. Normally I wouldn't hesitate to talk back. But for some reason, I felt a little defeated at the moment.

That fucking pissed me off more.

Lindsay must've noticed the tension now clearly present and I felt her looking at me. But neither Tyler nor I moved. We just stood there, staring at each other. Goosebumps formed on my arms but I'm sure it was just the cool morning breeze.

"Are you going to Whitewood High?" I heard Lindsay say.

Tyler now broke our eye contact and nodded at my best friend.

"Cool," she said not quite as cheerfully as before, due to the rising tension. "Well, then we'll see you tomorrow!"

Lindsay gripped my forearm again and I let her pull be back towards my own house. "It was nice meeting you, Tyler!"

He didn't respond.

Lindsay not so subtly booked it back across the street and into my house. We could hear my mom in the kitchen bustling around, but Lindsay paid no attention.

"What the fuck was that?" she whispered to me, leaning against the front door once she shut it.

"What do you mean?" I said even though I knew exactly what she meant.

"That. You. And him. Did something happen?"

"What could've happened?" I asked, feeling my cheeks heat up. "I met him for the first time five seconds ago with you."

She looked at me skeptically, trying to read my face.

"Linds, I swear to God, that's the first time I've talked to him before."

"But you've seen him before?" she interrogated.

"While they were moving in yesterday, yes?"

Lindsay opened her mouth to ask me another question, but my mother's voice beat her to it.

"Allie? Is that you?" she called.

Lindsay gave me a stern look that said, 'this isn't over,' but her expression immediately brightened as she sauntered towards the kitchen. "Hi, Mimi!"

My mother's excitement matched Lindsay's. She adored her. So while they were both chatting up a storm in the kitchen, my feet were still glued to the floor in the foyer. I forced a few deep breaths, begging my heart to slow its beating, my body to calm its jitters. It told myself that this reaction was just my hangover kicking in.

Yet seconds later, I was peeking out the window next to the front door, scanning the area across the street where he had just been.

But he was nowhere in sight. Gone.

I don't know why I was surprised. He could've gone anywhere. Inside, around the back. Hell, he could've still been in the front yard, just out of my eyesight given my hindered view from the narrow foyer window.

Why does it matter? I suddenly felt stupid for even staring out the window and quickly made my way into the kitchen.

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A/N: HE HAS A NAME!!!  Excited for the next few chapters!

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