Serial Hottie

  by

  Kelly Oram

  Published by Bluefields Creative

  Copyright © 2012 by Kelly Oram

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ALSO BY KELLY ORAM:

  “Most superhero stories start with a meteor shower or a nasty insect bite, but mine actually starts with a kiss.”

  www.beingjamiebaker.com

  ...

  For Christy Ann

  Not because we used to stalk our hot neighbor or anything...

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  BONUS MATERIAL

  “HOUSE HUNTING” (Seth’s first glimpse of Ellie)

  CHAPTER 1 FROM SETH’S POV

  COMING NEXT FROM KELLY ORAM

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  This was going to be the longest summer of my life. Being deprived of my three best friends, Jesse, Josh, and Jack—otherwise known as the J’s—was worse than I’d imagined it would be. It’d only been a week and I was already cracking like a nut job from the summer boredom. If it weren’t for the new kid across the street I’d be in a room with padded walls already.

  The new kid and his mom moved in the day after the J’s left to go to hockey camp for the summer. I’m not even going to start on how unfair it is that I couldn’t go with them just because of the fact that I’m a stupid girl—a fact which my older sister says is debatable—because it will only make me punch something.

  Anyway, the J’s all left to go become NHL material, and just when I thought for sure I was going to literally die without them, a moving van pulled up in front of the house across the street. Naturally I was curious, so I sat up in my room, with a bowl of ice cream and Weezer blaring loudly through my open window, and watched as the movers began hauling stuff into the house.

  After a few minutes, I stuck the spoon in my mouth and forgot to remove it until I got a massive brain freeze. This was not because I’m a moron and don’t know how to eat ice cream. It was because a BMW, of all things, pulled up to the curb in front of the house.

  Of course I’ve seen nice cars before, and it wasn’t even about the fact that I live in the kind of neighborhood where people only drive minivans, but a BMW? That’s like German or something. If you’re going to move to Detroit—okay well Canton, which is only a suburb of Detroit, but still—the least you could do is have the decency to drive American.

  I waited to see what kind of people would have the nerve to roll up in a foreign car, and the woman who stepped out from behind the wheel seemed to perfectly fit the stereotype I had in my head. She was super skinny, which, not to be rude to a lot of the moms on my street, was not something we were used to seeing around here. She had really shiny brunette hair, like the kind you see on shampoo commercials. Her clothes were probably designer, not that I would really know, and she had something hanging on her ear, which I decided was one of those cell phone things you see people using in the movies. In fact, she looked like someone you would see in the movies.

  Then he stepped out of the car and I felt like I’d died and gone to The OC. He had shaggy, dark brown hair that was as messy as the guys’ that play hockey with me, except that his seemed to be styled like that on purpose. It hung down into his eyes, making him look kind of mysterious, and he was really tall. Definitely varsity basketball team tall—not that he struck me as the type to play organized sports. And tall is good, because I’m like five, ten.

  Not that I’m planning our wedding or anything, I’m just saying.

  He seemed a little on the skinny side, but you could see the definition under his polo-fit tee. It gave him the appearance of an Abercrombie & Fitch model, officially making him the hottest boy I’ve ever seen. So hot, that I could feel myself blushing even though he was down on the street and had no idea I was watching him.

  And that’s what I did for the rest of the week. I watched him.

  I’d become obsessive about spying on him over the last week since it was my only form of entertainment. Well, it was the most exciting entertainment anyway. I did have my X-box to keep me company, but even Grand Theft Auto couldn’t compare with Mr. Abercrombie working out in his garage.

  The workouts started the morning after he moved in. Every morning around nine a.m. he worked himself ragged. Half the days he did an extensive cardio workout, with a jump rope of all things, and then he’d beat the crap out of a punching bag. That’s pretty fun to watch, but I’ll admit I liked the days when he lifted better. He had one of those weight machines that allows you to work out all the different parts of your body, so after he worked his thighs and gluts, he moved on to my particular favorite, his upper body.

  I kind of have the perfect view, too. My bedroom window is directly across from his bedroom window, which sits above his garage. So after his workout, I can usually catch a glimpse of him stripping his tank top off as he heads into his bathroom to shower. Best ten seconds of my day. Only today it was actually more like a whole minute, because he stopped to look out his window as he gulped down a bottle of water.

  I was completely mesmerized by his hotness, and didn’t think to hide from his view until our eyes locked. I panicked and quickly ducked out of sight hoping that we were far enough away from each other, that maybe he didn’t notice me. Maybe I only thought he’d seen me.

  I waited a minute and then peeked again to see if he was gone, but he was still standing there. Not only that, but it’s like he was waiting for me—like he knew I’d look again. At that point what could I do, hide again? I think not. I was already busted.

  In an attempt to save my dignity, and hopefully make him think I’d just happened to notice him and wasn’t actually watching him, I threw my hand up and waved. He didn’t wave back, but beneath the intense stare he was giving me, the corners of his mouth curved into half a smile. I couldn’t help but think, Is he laughing at me?

  “Who are you waving at?” a shrill voice called out from behind me.

  Angela. The dreaded older sister. Just the name makes me shudder. She’s only a year older than me, but that’s enough to make her think she’s better than me in every way possible. I hate her because she’s way pretty and wears a lot of skirts and stuff, and she hates me because I’m basically the opposite—a pale, skinny, redhead, who’s taller than half the boys in school and could beat any one of them in hockey.

  Angela barged into my room so suddenly that I jumped sky high at the sound of her voice. “What?” I yelped as I whirled around to face her.

  “Why are you blushing?” she demanded the moment she saw my face.

  “I’m not blushing. I’m just… It’s hot in here. What do you want?”

  She watched me suspiciously for a moment and then put the pieces together. “Oh
, my gosh!” she shrieked. “You were watching the new guy work out, weren’t you?” She pushed me out of the way to take her own peek at the window across the street, which was now empty, and added, “Did I miss him take his shirt off already?”

  Good to know stalking runs in the family. I was going to deny it and play dumb, but I was still so stunned by him catching me that I blurted out a “yup” before I could stop myself.

  Angela sighed in regret, but then pulled herself away form my window and turned her evil eyes on me. “Well, well, well, is Ellie Westley finally crushing on a boy? It’s about time.”

  “What? I don’t—”

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Ellie.” Angela rolled her eyes as she cut me off. “He’s totally gorgeous and you’re almost sixteen. I was starting to worry that you’d never realize what boys are for.”

  I’d already had enough embarrassment for one day with the whole being caught spying thing. I didn’t need Angela making it worse with some sort of welcome to womanhood speech.

  “What are you doing in my room?” I yelled.

  “Sheesh, I was just looking for my black clips.”

  “Do I look like someone who would use your hair clips?”

  “You should. You actually have really nice hair if you would just brush it once in a while.”

  I couldn’t help reaching up to grab my ponytail defensively. “I brush it.”

  When Angela saw the frown on my face, she studied me for a moment then sighed. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this but, why don’t we go shopping today and get you a skirt and a swimsuit and you can come with me to the lake tomorrow.”

  “Excuse me?” Never in all my fifteen years and eleven months of existence had such a statement come out of Angela’s mouth.

  “Listen. I know you miss those loser friends of yours, but maybe them being gone is a good thing.” I was shocked because she actually sounded sincere. Well, sincere for her anyway. “If you’ll promise to not be quite so… you.” There goes the sincerity. “I’ll let you hang out with my friends and me. With the J’s out of the way, we might have a decent chance of turning you into a girl this summer.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Had Angela gone mental? Was I not the only one going crazy from the summer break? Well Hell would have to freeze over before I agreed to a make-over, and considering it was like a hundred degrees outside, I pushed Angela into the hallway and slammed my bedroom door screaming, “I don’t have your stupid clips!”

  “Freak!” Angela yelled back through the door. I guess she was mad that I wouldn’t let her play like I’m her Barbie.

  Well, whatever! Just because my best friends were all boys, and I liked to play hockey, and I’d never been kissed before, didn’t mean I wasn’t a girl. And for the record, I didn’t have a crush on the new guy. I just thought he was really hot. But even if I did, it wouldn’t have been my first. I’d had crushes on boys before. Not any of the J’s of course, but last year I totally liked my biology partner Eric Sherman. That didn’t work out so much since we dissected frogs and I mentioned I was disappointed that there wasn’t any blood. But still.

  Feeling ready to punch something, which is basically how I feel every time I have to interact with Angela, I cranked up the My Chemical Romance and climbed out my bedroom window onto the roof of the garage where I like to go when I need space. I assumed that’s where I’d spend the rest of my day because my life was just that exciting.

  I actually didn’t stay out on the roof that long, because Mrs. Haskins pulled up in front of my house. “Ellie, honey,” she called to me through the open passenger window, “are you free to watch Cameron this evening?”

  “Sure Mrs. Haskins. What time do you need me?”

  “Six o’clock okay?”

  “Should be fine.”

  “Thanks Ellie!” She started to drive off, but then stopped again. “Oh, and Ellie?”

  “Yeah, Mrs. H?”

  “If you see Bruno, would you mind hanging on to him till I can come get him?”

  “He got out?” I couldn’t help the surprise in my voice. It’s not like Bruno is a little Chihuahua who could sneak through a hole he dug under the fence. He’s a 70-pound boxer. He’d never hurt a fly, but still not the kind of dog you’d want cruising the neighborhood on his own.

  “Bob forgot to shut the gate after he took the trash to the curb this morning.”

  I laughed because that was just like Mr. Haskins. That man would forget his shoes in the morning if Mrs. Haskins weren’t there. “You want me to help you look for him?”

  Mrs. Haskin’s eyes lit up at the offer. “Oh, would you?”

  “Sure. Let me just put on my skates and I’ll do a few laps through the greenbelt for you.”

  “Oh, Ellie.” Mrs. Haskins sighed in relief. “What would I ever do without you?”

  More like what would I do without the Haskins? I’m saving up to by a car as soon as I get my drivers license, and the Haskins’ add to my car fund more than any other family in the neighborhood. They pay really well and only have one kid—a baby who’ll be in bed by seven-thirty. Plus, they always have the cupboards stocked, and they get all the movie channels. It’s almost a crime to take their money. “See you in a while Mrs. Haskins,” I called with a big friendly grin.

  Not that looking for Bruno was all that exciting, but I was more than happy to slip on my rollerblades and go for a good skate. I’d been in the house too much this week and could use the exercise. So, as Mrs. Haskins continued to drive down the street calling out for her dog, I headed in the other direction toward the greenbelt like I’d promised.

  I live in a subdivision called Brookhurst. I don’t mean one of those new “housing developments” where you have to put a potted plant or a flag by the mailbox just so that you can tell which house is yours. I’m talking about a real neighborhood. The kind of place where there may be a house here and there in need of a paint job, but the trees are mature enough that they actually produce shade. Real estate people like to use the term ‘character’.

  It’s the type of place where everybody knows everybody, and for some reason once you move in you stay until you croak. Which is exactly why the new guy moving in was so exciting, and also why I couldn’t stop thinking about him as I rolled around the neighborhood.

  I went down every path in the entire neighborhood but didn’t see any trace of Bruno. Since Michigan is hot and muggy enough to be mistaken for a rainforest in the summer, I only did one lap and then called it quits. I got to my driveway and ripped off my helmet to wipe at the sweat that had gathered under it.

  No sooner did I toss the helmet in the grass than I heard the sound of paws thudding toward me. Not only does Bruno love me because I feed him junk sometimes while I’m babysitting, but he seemed particularly excited at the moment because of his current freedom. He came barreling at me at full speed.

  “Bruno, no! Stay! Bad dog!” I called when I realized he wasn’t going to stop. But it was too late. Bruno jumped up and knocked me right off my skates.

  Everything happened so fast. I crashed back against my driveway hard, and for a second, things went totally black. When I came to my ears were ringing, my head was pounding, and I felt like I was going to vomit at any moment.

  Then, just as I’d suspected would happen, a giant tongue attacked my face.

  Bruno only got the chance to give me one good lick before he yelped and fell limp beside me. That’s when I looked up to see the new guy staring down at me with the most intense eyes I’d ever seen. And, get this. He was holding a Taser. “Hi, Ellie,” he said in a strong, deep voice. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Well of course I screamed. The psycho just killed the Haskins’ dog. I screamed loud enough that the J’s probably heard me all the way at camp. Then I tried my best to push the new kid away from me, but he was too strong. I would have freaked out that such a hot boy was touching me, except I was too busy freaking out that such a hot boy was touching me! Pinning me to
the ground, actually.

  “Easy there, Ellie,” New Guy ordered me and then did the weirdest thing ever. He took off his shirt.

  Not that I didn’t appreciate what was under his shirt, but I screamed again. Well what was I supposed to do? The guy comes out of nowhere, kills a dog, pins me to the ground, and takes his clothes off? Oh yeah, and he knows my name. How does he know my name?

  It wasn’t until he wadded up his shirt and plastered it against the back of my head that I realized maybe he wasn’t attacking me. Once I understood this it finally dawned on me how much pain I was in.

  There was a pounding in my head like nothing I’ve ever felt, and it seemed to match the rhythm of my heartbeat. The thud, thud, thud was echoing in my ears and making my brain want to explode, but it was soon overpowered by a much worse sound. One that was unfortunately all too familiar, and makes my head ache even when I haven’t just cracked it on the driveway.

  “Ellie! What the freak is with the screaming? I’m on the phone!” Angela was saying until she got to the driveway and saw what was going on. The shriek that followed was blood curdling.

  “Don’t worry, she’ll be all right, but she’s going to need stitches.”

  I was startled because the voice came from so close to me. It’s like I’d forgotten the new kid was there, and when I looked up I was surprised to see his face just a foot from mine. They’re blue, I thought as I finally got a really good look at his eyes. I’d been wondering all week what color they were. It was hard to tell from my window. Deep, dark, ocean blue. Gorgeous, just like the rest of him.

  He looked down at me suddenly with the same amused grin he’d given me from his bedroom window, which I thought was strange. But maybe I was looking at him cross-eyed since he held a finger up in front of me and slowly waved it from side to side. The motion made me nauseous.