Cali Boys (5 page)

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Authors: Kelli London

BOOK: Cali Boys
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7
JACOBI
H
er head was throbbing. Really banging. Ever since Malone had dropped them off, all she could do was think about getting to Shooby and the motorcycle show and her first real date. That's the only way she could describe her expectations for her time together with Shooby: a date. She liked to think that Shooby would treat her the same way Malone had treated her. Malone had complimented her, held open the car door, and flirted: all the things she believed a guy would do when taking a girl out.
So, why not?
she thought, shrugging. Why shouldn't she see her time with Malone as a hint of what she should expect from Shooby? Someone treating her special, like Malone had done. But for some reason, she knew Shooby wouldn't. She rolled her eyes as tension climbed her neck. The same tightness that'd made Jacobi's headache kick in as soon as Alissa had insisted on going home, thereby killing the idea of her meeting up with Shooby.
“You okay in there?” Jacobi yelled as she sat on the floor next to the bathroom door, texting Shooby that she was running late and simultaneously mentally practicing
to the East. To the West
... Her eyes were on her breasts, then she looked up and around in awe. Alissa didn't have a bedroom; she had a suite, complete with her own sitting area and bathroom. She guessed that's what living closer to the top of the hill offered: teenage suites. Where she lived—one house closer to the bottom of the hill—teenagers like her and Diggs shared a bathroom with little five-year-olds named Hunter. It was amazing that living one house down could really make a difference in floor plans.
“No. I need you. Come in,” Alissa replied.
What, exactly, was she supposed to do in the bathroom? Jacobi wondered. Especially when Alissa was having girl problems. “A friend in need ...” she said, reminding herself of her manners and pushing herself up from the floor. Reluctantly, she twisted the knob and opened the door, then popped her head inside. To her relief, Alissa was sitting behind a four-foot-high frosted glass partition, and all Jacobi could see were Alissa's mile-long legs sticking out. “Yeah?”
“Can you look in the cabinet under the sink and hand me a pad? A regular one,” Alissa explained, reaching her hand over the partition.
Jacobi nodded as if Alissa could see her, then looked in the cabinet and almost choked. Feminine products in various colors and sizes were stacked high, and she couldn't differentiate one from the other. Sure, she could tell the douche from the pads and the pads from the vaginal washes, but she had no idea how to determine a “regular” pad from the others; and none were in boxes, just neatly stacked in a rattan basket. As she stared at the variety of girl stuff, she realized she didn't even know exactly what the douche and feminine wash were for. Sure, she knew the region of the body the products were made for, but she couldn't explain why and when they were needed. She gritted her teeth in frustration at her ignorance. Altogether there were six pads: a trio of pinks, two yellows, and a white one. She decided to try one of the pads wrapped in pink plastic. “Here,” she said, taking it from the cabinet and walking over to hand it to Alissa.
“Uh-uh,” Alissa said after she took it and examined it. “I'm not that heavy.” She handed it back to Jacobi.
Jacobi quietly breathed out her frustration as she headed back to the cabinet. She didn't want Alissa to know she knew nothing about pads, so she couldn't just ask what color she needed. “I really need to get to the show, Alissa. No offense.” Quickly looking at the pad in her hand, she sized it up, then selected a smaller one. “I hope this is it,” she said, accidentally voicing her thoughts, then cringing when she realized it was too late.
“Are you kidding me?” Alissa asked from behind the partition.
“No. My best friend from my old neighborhood, Katydid, might come. And I'm supposed to meet another friend there. It's kinda important.” An eye roll punctuated the last word. “I don't mean to be rude.”
“No, not that. I'm talking about pads. You don't know about pads? Oh my God, Jacobi! That can only mean one thing ...” Alissa was quiet for a moment, reaching farther over the frosted glass. “You haven't had your period yet?”
Jacobi rolled her eyes again, making her way over with her second pad selection, handing the plastic-wrapped feminine product to Alissa. She shook her head, then remembered Alissa couldn't see her, and she was glad. She didn't want her new friend to see the embarrassment on her face. “Not yet,” she admitted, perkier than she felt.
“Hmm,” Alissa said from behind the partition, noisily unwrapping the pad. “I wonder why.”
“Why?” There has to be a why? Jacobi worried. Was there something wrong with her? Maybe her female organs were off.
Alissa appeared from behind the partition, then walked to the sink and washed her hands. She looked at Jacobi in the mirror and shrugged. “Are you anorexic or bulimic or something? You know that'll throw your system off and your period will
never
come. I went to school with this girl who made herself throw up.” She turned around and leaned against the sink, crossing her arms as if accusing Jacobi of having an eating disorder. “You know you can talk to me if you do. My mom's a nutritionist, so that makes me a nutritionist in training. Food can do all kinds of screwy things to your body. Trust me.”
Jacobi tsk-tsked her and vehemently shook her head. She didn't have an eating disorder. If anything, she needed to slow down on her eating habits because she consumed too much sugar; that's what the pimples on her face told her, though she didn't indulge in too many sweets. The sugar had to be coming from somewhere.
Maybe too much fruit?
“Are you crazy? I don't know why I haven't had my period yet, but I know it's not because of an eating disorder. I eat. I eat all the time, and I don't throw up.”
Alissa stared at Jacobi for seconds, pursing her lips together. She bent down, opened the cabinet Jacobi had been in, fished inside for a while, and stood up with a handful of maxi pads. “I got my period when I was eleven, and everyone else I know had theirs by thirteen at the latest. So that means your hormones are off. That's your problem. It's probably the reason your chest is almost concave, too—your breasts are growing
in
to your chest instead of out of it. We may need to research your symptoms. But first, I need to give you a lesson in feminine products.”
Jacobi's eyes lit. She'd never had a lesson on pads other than during the sex ed classes she had to take in sixth and seventh grades. Heaven forbid her mother should talk to her about such a thing; that was much too taboo for her. Her parents' generation seemed allergic to discussing stuff like sex, anatomy, and menstrual cycles.
“Alissa,” a guy's voice called from outside the bathroom door, followed by a loud knock. “Phone! Your cell phone's been buzzing nonstop, and if you don't come get it, it's going in the trash. And weren't you supposed to be at your piano lesson today? Mom told me to make sure you got there, or else we both are gonna be in trouble. And I ain't taking the heat for nobody. You better hurry or I'm telling,” he threatened.
Jacobi raised her brows at Alissa.
Rolling her eyes, Alissa kicked the cabinet door closed and handed Jacobi the armful of maxi pads. “Okay. Okay,” she said to the door, then turned to Jacobi. “Here. Take these home and study them. I forgot I have this stupid lesson today. So it's probably a good thing we missed the motorcycle show, or I'd definitely be in major trouble. But there's always tomorrow, right?” She threw a sideways glance at the door. “Oh, and that pain in the ya-know out there is Alek, better known as my twin brother. You can ignore him on your way out. Oh, yeah ...” She trailed off as she bent down and fished in the cabinet again. “Take these, too. They're stickups, better known as tampons,” she said, standing up and thrusting more girly products at Jacobi. “But you want to research those before you try them. Lots of them have chlorine in them, and they can cause your body to go into shock, which is why I have so many. No way I'm using those.”
 
Jacobi's back was to Alissa's front porch before she knew it. Her purse, almost bursting from all the sanitary products, banged against her leg as she jogged down the few stairs to the sidewalk. She had to get home, drop off the bundle of period stuff, then skate as fast as she could to the motorcycle show. Shooby had sent her a hurry-up-or-else message.
“Hey! Where are you going? What did you take?” Alek's voice boomed from behind her.
Jacobi turned and froze, trying to make out Alek's expression through the dark screen door. First she'd been accused of having an eating disorder, and now theft. She scowled. “What's up with this family?” she mumbled under her breath, then put her hands on her hips. She turned easily into her old self—the rough girl she was forced to be in her old neighborhood—snaking her neck and rolling her eyes. She spat, “You must be trippin'! I'm no thief. I didn't take—”
“I'm just playing,” he said, stepping out onto the porch, waving his hand and smiling. “I was just trying to stop you from running out of here before I got a chance to introduce myself.” He stepped off the porch, walking toward her and offering her his hand like a businessman. “I'm Alek. You are?”
Jacobi took him in with each step. The closer he got to her, the more intently she stared. Alek was also sort of cute. He wasn't rough-and-rugged fine like Shooby, and definitely wasn't typical Hollywood and made-for-TV dreamy like Malone, but, to his credit, he was a semi head-turner. He was just straight attractive in a can't-take-just-one-look way. Upon closer inspection, she realized he wasn't just appealing, he was downright exotic. His eyes were almond shaped and the clearest emerald green she'd ever seen. He had brand-new-baby smooth skin that looked like he'd bathed in milk and honey. And his hair, an inch or two too long, was wild and reddish caramel brown, a toned-down version of Alissa's. Jacobi was sure that his do was the definition of “bed head” that she'd been trying to figure out for a couple of years. And, oh God, was it sexy. More appropriate, she thought
he
was sexy—then she could've kicked herself for emotionally cheating on Shooby and eyeing both Alissa's brothers. “Uh,” she stammered as he approached and stood in front of her, forcing her to look up. Way up. He had to be at least six-foot-four. He smiled pleasantly, and she zoomed in. Braces were wrapped around his teeth. Not silver ones like hers, but, sure enough, they were there and not as clear as they were advertised to be. “I'm Jacobi. I live next—”
“Door. I know. I've seen you come and go. Diggs is your brother,” he said, still smiling and making her heart soar at his categorization of her. Everyone else she knew thought of her as Diggs's sister—making her brother seem more important. But for Alek it was the other way around. “How old are you?” Alek asked, stepping closer and leaving less than two feet between them.
Jacobi swallowed, sure that he could hear the gulp she'd just forced down her throat. “I'm almost sixteen,” she said, because being almost sixteen sounded way better and more mature than fifteen.
He nodded, still smiling, then reached toward her chest.
“Hey!” she responded, jumping back and swatting his hand.
Alek, ignoring the slap, gently pulled her video camera toward him and inspected it. “Hey, what?” He laughed and looked into her eyes. “Oh, you thought I was trying to touch your ... ?”
Embarrassed, Jacobi shook her head, blushing. “Sorry for hitting you.”
Alek shrugged. “... Camera,” he said, switching nouns on her and ignoring her apology. “Well, you can't blame me. It is very nice
equipment
you have. Not too big. Not too small. Perfect.” He winked.
Jacobi's whole world rocked with the blink of his eye. She couldn't believe he was flirting with her and actually said her breasts were perfect. He hadn't used the exact words, but they both knew he wasn't referring to her camera. Shaking her head, she was sure he was partially blind. If not, what else could be the excuse for his not seeing that one of her boobs was darn near deflated?
“So, Jacobi. You got a man?”
Jacobi shook her head in the negative, revealing her status while reminding herself that Shooby hadn't been interested enough to step up and claim her as his own yet.
“Good. Pass me your phone.”
Jacobi looked at Alek's hand and saw that he had a phone. “Why do you need it when you already have one?”
“I
want
to erase all your male contacts.” He laughed. “No, but serious. I need to put my number in, in case you ever decide you
need
me,” he said, starting to close up the twenty-four-plus inches between them, then stopping abruptly. His beautiful smile died. “Dang,” he whispered, looking toward the street, sheer disgust now on his face.
“What's wrong?” Jacobi asked, sorry he'd stopped. Sure, she liked Shooby, but there was something interesting about Alek, especially his bluntness and forwardness about wanting her to call him. But she didn't like him. Not at all. Like his brother, he was worthy of being filmed. But Malone had captured her attention more than that. He was worth getting to know. If she had to choose between the brothers—which she didn't, she told herself—her choice would be Malone.

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