Melody's Crush: (Book One) Read online

  Melody’s Crush

  By

  Alora Dillon

  Kindle Edition

  Melody’s Crush

  Copyright © 2014 by DLK Publishing House

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use any material from this book (other than review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

  Book Cover Design by Donna Hunter

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or deceased, places, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Teen / Young Adult

  Disclaimer: The material in this book may contain language that can be construed as offensive, some descriptive nudity and mild to moderate sexual connotation. Reader be advised.

  Purchase or possession of this book means the reader is agreeing they have read and understood the disclaimer and holds the publisher and author completely harmless of any wrong doing.

  All characters in this book are age consenting adults of 18 or older.

  Melody’s Crush

  There was a tap on the window and I could hear the squeaking of the hinges as it opened. Two booted feet plopped down on the floor and then the window was closed.

  “Ready?” an all too familiar voice called out.

  My heart gave a little skip as I smiled to myself anticipating what Jake would be wearing today to cause all the girls to swoon in school. Turning slowly, I eyed him carefully and took in the splendor of his presence from head to toe and then back again for a second trip.

  “Well?” he asked teasingly. “Does this meet with your approval?”

  I squint my eyes and wrinkled my nose causing my thick black rimmed glasses to rise above my eyebrows pretending as if I had to really think about it. But this guy could make a garbage bag and old man slippers look GQ. Literally, since that is what he wore for Halloween last year after losing a bet with his buddies and he still took first prize.

  My eyes refused to close as he walked over towards me, standing so close that I could smell the musky scent of his cologne mixed with the warmth of his skin. Ah, Jake Obsession. If I could bottle it, I could make a fortune. It just made every bit of my Spidey senses tingle.

  What I loved most was his height. In ninth grade, I used to tease him about being shorter as I was a forehead taller than him during the first of the year. By Christmas, he shot up and just kept on going. From then on, he never missed the opportunity to tease me about my height and I learned a valuable lesson.

  Tease harder before the window of opportunity closes!

  Standing in front of me now, he easily towered over me by half a foot and I was certainly no spring chicken. My heart raced a thousand miles a second as I stared at his slightly exposed chest.

  Why did he like showing off his chest like that? It’s enough to drive a girl crazy!

  Holding my breath, I could feel the heat radiating from my cheeks as I reached upward to button the one button that would offer me my sanity back. My knuckles lightly brushed his chest as I tried and failed to button it due to my knees rebelling against my weight.

  “Hey!” he said causing a pop in my libido bubble. I gasped at the unexpected hold he had on my wrists preventing me from getting the little button securely through the hole. I bit my lip in order to muffle the odd sound coming from my throat.

  Don’t let go. Please, don’t let go!

  “I like it open.” He smacked both of my hands playfully and then took a step backward. Damn.

  Then I felt a resounding pop against my forehead knowing full and well it was going to leave a raspberry mark all through breakfast.

  Strike one.

  “Ah, damn it Jake!” Rubbing my forehead tenderly, I pushed him so hard he fell back on my bed. Laughing, he easily bounced back up, flicked the tip of my nose as if I were a child he was teasing and then headed out my bedroom door.

  Strike two.

  “Jake,” my mother chided as he bumped into her in the hall. “I really wish you would use the front door.”

  I could hear him kissing her on the cheek and there was no doubt my mother melted in the palm of his hands.

  Strike three.

  Mom felt that Jake could do no wrong and never once felt him to be a threat to her one and only virtuous daughter. Of course, that didn’t say much about me and it actually was so annoying that she felt so comfortable with him being constantly around me that I just wanted to strangle her. Visions of her daughter making out with the hottest guy in school just never seemed to cross her mind. And obviously, not his.

  Nope, she only saw him as the honorable son she never had and my overly protective brother from another mother.

  Okay. Okay… I got it!

  No one needed to tell me twice let alone once that I was not Jake’s type. Gods like him didn’t so much as glance at mere mortals like me. With Los Angeles being the hub where all the Gods and Goddesses lived, he would definitely never go without. Girls had to be a solid walking ten or else he wouldn’t bother.

  What kicked my ego a little harder was when he asked me to rate a girl before he pursued. It used to be amusing, but now it just annoyed the crap out of me. It was always the same type. Long straight brunette hair, no tan even though we lived in one of the sunniest cities of the world… or at least in my book. Not too fit and not too skinny, heart shaped face preferred, symmetrical features, flawless skin, straight teeth and of course, full lips.

  She had to be smart and funny.

  Okay, smart was my requirement but that was just bonus points to him. In the end, other than smart and funny, everything on his list left me out of the running. Although I had my father’s curly hair and my mother’s striking eyes, Jake never saw me as anything but plain ole’ safe Melody, best friend. Sister. And for the most part, I was fine with it.

  And eventually I’ll stop lying to myself.

  Over the past three years, he and I agreed on a total of eight brunettes and two blondes. Of course, he went against my better judgment on at least a half dozen more.

  Player!

  Jake was definitely a player and he didn’t seem to mind holding that title.

  Actually, I understood better than anyone why Jake never saw me as more than a best friend and a sister. We practically lived together. I was the girl living in Jake’s parent’s spare two bedroom apartment that was designed for guests or live-in help. It had plenty enough space for a mother and daughter duo. We lived quite well for ourselves and we were allowed to use the pool and backyard anytime we wanted.

  Although, to this day, I hadn’t dipped a toe in it since hitting puberty.

  While I was allowed to come and go as I pleased at the ‘mansion’ as I called it, I respect his family’s privacy and only visited when invited. I couldn’t say the same for Jake though. His comings and goings through my bedroom window have been constant for the past ten years and it was enough to make the head spin. And for the most part, I liked the dizzy feeling it left me with.

  Speaking of dizzy, I followed Jake down the hall until we spilled into the small kitchen where mom had already put waffles and forty-five second microwavable bacon on the table.

  Nothing like a nutritious meal to get our day started.

  Mom poured herself a cup of coffee and added so much heavy whipping cream, it made my arteries cringe just watching her take the first sip.

  She kissed me on the cheek and then reached
to ruffle Jake’s hair causing him to put up his arms in defense. Instead, she popped him on the arm, grabbed her keys and left. Watching how much he enjoyed my mother’s playfulness pulled at my heartstrings.

  “You really are my mother’s son,” I said teasingly.

  He just grinned through a mouth full of bacon and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  This was a typical morning in my household. For the most part, I loved it. I just wished Jake felt for me more than a brotherly affection. But if that were the case, I would miss having mornings like these with him and I wasn’t willing to trade that for anything in the world, accept of course, to be his girlfriend. And I already know I don’t meet his standards. So, I will just stay happy right where I’m at.

  Unknowingly, I sighed out loud causing Jake to look at me curiously. Chuckling to myself over my crazy thoughts, I picked up a piece of bacon and tossed it at him. Of course, he caught it without blinking an eye and shoved it into his perfectly shaped Adonis mouth. I blinked a few times trying desperately to erase the image of his lips pressed against mine. Heat rushed to my cheeks.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, causing me to blush even more.

  I shook my head yes nervously and took my plate to the sink. He followed my lead and then we headed out the door.

  “I’ll drive,” he said grabbing the key fob from my hand. And of course, I let him since it was the only way I could actually stare at him without getting caught.

  You see, I don’t like other people’s driving. Call it phobia, call it crazy, but I’m going to call it opportunity. Jake knows how much I hate other people’s driving and he doesn’t particularly care for my granny style driving either. So, in order for us to reach a compromise, he told me to just keep my eyes on him while he drives and let him keep his eyes on the road. I was all for that! So for ten minutes every morning, I got to study every feature he had until arriving at school.

  Jake opened my side of the door first and then got into the driver’s seat. It was clear to me that he just liked driving my sports car compared to his ‘old man’ beamer as he called it. I got this limited edition 2015 Ford Mustang Coupe concept car with a V6 automatic transmission with one of a kind, burnt amber metallic paint last year for my seventeenth birthday from my dad. He paid as much as a house for it and it was just one of the many overly expensive gifts he would send to try and “make-up” for all the times he was not around.

  He left my mother for another woman when I was just four years old. Or so he says. But in truth, my mom left him after finding out he was having an affair. Does he regret it? It seems so. But no matter how many relationships he had been in since, he always kept trying to get my mother to get back with him. And of course, my mother refuses him every time.

  And as long as she continues to refuse him, the more extravagant my gifts get. I mean, I’ve done the weekend daddy visit thing since I was five. But for the last few years, I basically gave him every excuse in the book as to why I couldn’t come over. So, eventually, he gave up trying to see me. I didn’t hate him. I just didn’t want to be around him that much.

  “You seem a little distant today. What’s up?” Jake asked, shaking me from my thoughts.

  Removing my black rimmed glasses, I rubbed my eyes pretending that I didn’t get much sleep. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

  He chuckled to himself as we reached the longest stoplight between home and school. He turned to me grinning causing my stomach to do more flips.

  “You really need to set a time limit to your studying. All work and no play makes Melody a dull girl,” he said teasingly. He grabbed my knee and squeezed causing me to jump out of my skin and erupt with giggles. I tried desperately to push his hand away but he latched on squeezing until I was coughing in fits of laughter.

  “Alright, alright, alright!” I screamed. I punched him repeatedly in his right arm and he finally let go. He rubbed my head causing my carefully contained curls to dislodge from my braid and go every which way.

  I popped his hand repeatedly. “Stop, you jerk off!” I said, more teasing than anything. Flipping down the mirror hidden in the visor, I tried desperately to tuck the disarrayed curls back into place with little success.

  Jake’s laughter caused my ears to ring. “There really is no way to control that mop of yours so you might as well stop trying.”

  That stung.

  If looks could kill, I would have been behind bars already after the look I sent him. He was actually a bit surprised. I realized too suddenly that I had no right to get hurt at his brotherly teasing. So, I popped him on the arm again.

  “Piss off!” I said and then gave him my best Cheshire grin.

  He gently pulled the tail of my French braid backward and I turned and slapped at his hand. He slapped my hand back and then it was a back and forth game until eventually, as usual, it ended in me punching his arm to get him to stop teasing me.

  “Ouch. Damn that hurt!” he said, scrunching his face in make believe pain. “You hit like a guy.”

  “Keep teasing me and you will see just how hard this ‘guy’ can throw a punch.”

  He palmed the side of my face, pushing me just enough so that my body rocked to the other side of the car. Moving farther away from me, he lifted his arm in defense waiting for my punch that never came. I flinched as if I was about to, causing him to flinch as well. I fell into a bought of giggles.

  Yep, he was way too much like a brother.

  School was all abuzz with bodies moving to and fro making their way through the rhythm of the classrooms. Because I was in all college preparatory classes, Jake and I didn’t have any classes together except for Health which meant we had lunch together too, even though he did not spend it with me.

  However, I always looked forward to Health as he always sat next to me in class. I was a front row sitter and he was a back row kind of guy. But, it didn’t seem to bother him to sit next to me one class out of the day smack dab in front of the white board. I always hoped that he was doing it because he secretly had a crush on me. But, based on the way he was eyeing Tricia Scott, I was pretty sure this was not the case.

  Mr. Lloyd told us all to settle down in our seats as the bell rang. He ruffled through a stack of papers on his desk and then handed the beginning of each row the right amount of papers after counting the heads of students.

  “Take one and pass it back,” he said robotically.

  I grabbed the stack, took one and passed it backward as instructed. The title of the paper was “Parenting Project.” It was a permission slip for our parents to sign allowing us to take part in a parenting class where a life like baby would be used to determine our parenting skills. We would have to sign for a key that contained a chip documenting our performance.

  But that wasn’t the kicker.

  What shocked everyone in the class was that for the one week we would be doing the project, we had to “live” with the other student. This is where the parents had to agree to allow the students to be housed together.

  Each living with the other for half a week!

  There was no way, with my mother being a single mother she would allow a strange guy to stay at our house for a day let alone four. And she definitely would not allow me to stay with him at his house for three.

  However, I was sure that if I got paired with Jake, then it would be no problem.

  I looked around the room at all the possibilities of guys I might be paired with. Every one of them made me cringe and I could not see any of them being my “baby daddy.”

  The hum of whispers and giggles caused Mr. Lloyd to raise his voice. “Alright, alright, alright. Settle down.” He pulled out the permission slip and raised it above his head. “Each of you has until Friday to get this permission slip signed by your parents. This grade counts as thirty percent of this quarter’s grade. It lasts one week. Friday to Friday. Of course, Friday being the Friday before homecoming. You must equally share in the responsibility of the child that is given to you. You will each be g
iven a key that has your unique identifier chip that documents every time you respond to the baby’s needs. Whether it be burping, feeding, changing the diaper, bathing,” he ticked off with his fingers. “Etcetera, etcetera. We will go over the details this Friday when you get paired up and delivered your child.”

  The class erupted in laughter. He skimmed over us all with the evil eye and continued, “Boys will be drawing a name from a… eh hem.” He waited for the class to settle down to a hush. “As I said, boys will be drawing a name from a hat from a pool of the girls.” Snickering came from the back and everyone smiled. “We have an even amount of boys and girls in the class so there should not be anyone left out.”

  “This sucks,” someone said from the back of the room.

  “That’s enough, Kyle,” Mr. Lloyd reprimanded and then continued. “All your parents have been informed of this project since the beginning of school during parent teacher conference so they will not be surprised when they get this permission slip.”

  Well that didn’t make me feel any better.

  Mr. Lloyd finished. “This will be the first year that we will be using RealCare Baby technology and based on the results, this will determine if the school will fund for it next year. So, I expect everyone to be on their best behavior and do your best! Alright, enough said. Pull out your books and turn to page one ninety eight.”

  Forty-five hellacious minutes later, the bell rang and I headed toward my locker. I could hear the jocks laughing as they poured their way into the hallway. One of them said they did not mind being Tricia Scott’s baby daddy anytime and another said they pitied the person paired with Melody Jenkins.

  My heart squeezed a little at the insult.

  I get it. I am not the popular girl in school and I definitely didn’t try hard enough to make my appearance at all attractive. I got to my locker and quickly opened it to retrieve my lunch.

  Hell, I even still brought my own lunch. Disgusted with myself, I shoved my lunch back into my locker, slammed the door and headed to the girl’s bathroom. It normally was empty at the beginning of lunch when everyone was fending for their feast. Removing my glasses, I turned on the faucet and let cool water pool into my hands. I splashed my face a few times and then really looked hard at my features. I was pretty enough. I had striking eyes, long lashes, flawless skin, perfectly straight teeth due to four years of dental torture and my hair was the perfect color of wheat.