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Alden and Oliver Stokes are identical twins who live across the street from me. They’re almost always together.
Alden shrugs and picks up the sponge. “I don’t know. Doing something boring. Let’s go to the treehouse.”
Tori and I return to our job. “Later. We’ve got to wash the car and the van,” I inform him.
Tori turns and sticks her hip out. We read it was sexy in one of her mom’s magazines that she swiped, but it looks silly to me. “Help us get it done and I’ll buy you a candy bar.”
Alden mulls it over. “And a pop.”
Tori looks at me, and I nod. It’ll get done faster. “I’ll buy his pop.”
“Deal.” Alden joins us and between spraying each other, we manage to get the vehicles clean.
Tori runs inside to collect our money from her mom while Alden and I sit on the curb, letting the water in the gutter run over our bare feet. “I love that smell,” I remark.
“What smell?” Alden replies absently, as Sawyer Underwood approaches on his bike.
“The smell that happens when the pavement gets wet in the heat.”
“There’s no smell. You’re a weirdo.”
His words bounce off me. “There is too a smell. You’re the weirdo if you can’t notice it.”
Sawyer skids his bike to a stop. “Ella, I’m trying to collect for my paper route. Nobody answers at your house.”
Sawyer is the cutest boy in the neighborhood. At least I think so. He’s taller than the other boys and has curly blond hair. “Mom is over at the Taylor’s place. Do you want me to get her?”
He flashes a smile at me, showing a row of blue tipped braces. “Nah. I have to stop there too. Thanks.”
“Sure. Yeah.”
Sawyer races away, and I look into Alden’s grinning face. “What?”
“You like him.”
Damn it. “Do not.”
Alden gets to his feet. “You do too. You’re blushing.”
“It’s from the sun!” I defend hotly.
Alden’s voice goes up into a falsetto. “Oh Sawyer, you’re so cute when you ride that bike and throw papers. Please be my husband and have little paperboy babies.”
“Shut up! I do not like him.”
Alden grins when I cross my arms. “Better not. He’s almost fourteen. He’s too old for you.”
Yeah, but not a weird fourteen. “And you get to say who’s too old?”
“Yep.” He jumps back when I stomp the water, making it splash him. “That’s my job as your friend.”
“What’s your job?” Tori asks, joining us and handing me my money.
“Keeping Ella from dating the paperboy.”
“I’m not dating anyone!”
Tori looks around frantically. “Sawyer? Was he here? He’s super hot.”
