After listening to her list of no-nos, I slowly walked upstairs to Anna's room. I knew it was her room because it was covered in posters of puppies and kittens. How old was she? Aaah, 17. Just a year younger than me. A year. She was on the computer when I walked. The desk was on the front wall, under a small T.V. A table separated two beds. My bed was on the left side, the bright pink wall free of posters. Thank god.
"Hey, Haley," she said, looking up to see me.
"Hey, Anna," I said, blankly.
I rolled my bags into the room, placing the one with pictures and other necessary things on the bed. I opened it. I placed a frame of me, Jacob, Stacey, Anne Marie, Grace, Griffin, Dan, and Frankie at the beach on the corner of the table.
"Can I put this here?" I asked, after I had placed it.
"Sure," she said, standing up and picking up the frame.
Wow. She had no problem invading my personal space.
"The bathroom's to your right outside," she said, analyzing my picture.
I middle-fingered her secretly, and grabbed my shorts and big t-shirt to go and take a shower. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired as hell. I combed my hair, tying it into a loose ponytail that fell to my side. After I finished, I walked back to the room. She had finally put the picture down and was back on her computer.
"The guy by you is quite sexy," she said.
This family didn't have an accent. They were originally New Yorkers but had moved here. But the way she said that bothered me.
"Ok," I mumbled, not knowing what else to say.
"Does he have a girlfriend?" she asked.
"Me," I said, sitting down on the bed.
"Oh. Well. Yeah. Ok. That makes sense."
I rolled my eyes.
"What's his name?" she asked, turning her chair to face the bed.
"Hot name. Oh god. You see, I got a boyfriend and all... but he's no fun."
"I can't do anything with him. My mom makes me be home by ten."
"That sucks. I went to boarding school so I saw him all the time."
"I wish I went to boarding school."
"It's not all that fun."
"Whatever. You could get away with doing it."
I raised my eyebrows.
"I'm still a goddamn virgin!" she shouted.
For someone with a mom like Aunt Christie, she sure had a way with words.
"Whoa, calm down there."
"I can't," she groaned, "I'm going crazy with all these restrictions."
I would too.