0 6
What's in a Name, Anyway?
"Why in the fuck would we not go, Lynnie?" Noah questions from the doorway of my bedroom.
I look up from where I'm sprawled out on the floor, clothes and shoes scattered all around me.
"Let me think that over," I start. "I have nothing to wear. All of the people from that school suck. And, oh, Malia is the worst!"
Noah steps further into the room, kicking a pair of my six inch heels out the way, making me almost sit up and karate-fucking-chop his ass.
"Hey!" I squeal, still lying down. "Those are Louboutins!"
"So?" Noah asks.
"They're expensive, beautiful, and my only pair, you uncultured dickhead."
"No, I meant, so about Malia being the worst and people from school sucking. Who cares, Lynnie? We're still living here and going there. Might as well enjoy ourselves, or at least try too."
I watch as he throws himself onto my bed, grabbing my pillow and cuddling it to his chest, closing his eyes and looking extremely peaceful. Naturally, I reach for a pair of converse and throw one at him.
"Come on," he mumbles, never opening his eyes.
"See, you're tired," I state, moving into a sitting position. "Stay home and sleep. I'll represent the Prince twins for us."
"Aha," he shouts, pointing his finger at my face and quickly rising from the bed to sit up. "I knew that's what it was. You don't want me going."
I sigh, raising my hands in surrender, seeing as there's no point in trying to lie my way out of this one. "You're right. I don't."
"Why the fuck not? It's not like we'll be stuck with each other. Trust me, Lynnie, I do not want to hang out with you outside of this house."
I roll my eyes. "I don't wanna hang out with you inside this house. Just leave me alone forever. Get out."
He lays back down on my bed and makes himself more comfortable. "I still don't get why you don't want me going. Scared I'll meet your new friends and they'll like me better?"
I doubt Jalen will like you better. "Yup. So, please, stay here and don't steal my friends." I move into a kneeling position and bring my hands together in front of me, pretending to beg.
"Nah," he says while staring at the ceiling, trying to keep a smile off his face and ignore my antics. "I'm gonna go. What time did Malia say she was coming?"
I reach for my phone that's hidden under the number of shirts and jeans thrown on my floor. I feel my stomach drop when I see Liam's name in my messages, even though we haven't talked since that night last week on FaceTime. We texted when I got back to the house, and we texted two days after that about his first day at school. He texted me yesterday asking when I start, and I told him three more days. That was all.
Jess, on the other hand, hasn't left me alone. She's constantly calling and textingâboth solo and in the group chatâabout how sorry she is if she caused any trouble. She claims she barely remembers what happened, all she knows is she had Liam's phone and called me.
Bea assured me their story was true, as she saw Drunk Jess from a distance barely able to stand and talking to Liam. She said by the time she reached them Liam had already lended her his phone, and she left shortly after to go call an Uber.
I've been trying to pretend it didn't happen and act like everything's okay, but it's become clear to me that I don't live by them anymore, meaning there's undeniable distance between us.
I look over the text Malia sent this morning, and read it to Noah. "She said she'd get us at five o'clock."
He looks at the watch on his wrist. "That gives us three more hours for you to get your shit together and meet me at the front door." His gaze switches from the watch to me, to the pile of clothes around us, then back to me. "Good luck."
I jump from the floor and push him off my bed as harshly as I can, earning a groan from him as he lands on the floor, making me smile.
"I hate you," he mumbles as he gets up and walks out my room, slamming the door behind him.
I throw myself back onto the floor, by my clothes pile, wondering what the fuck to wear.
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The drive to the location of the barbeque isn't as awkward as I thought it'd be. Actually, it isn't awkward at all.
Noah rarely hung out with Malia and I when we were younger, but when he occasionally did, he had fit right in, making us work easily as a trio. I can't deny that it was always so much more fun when he did decide to join us, but most of the time, I liked when he didn't, because it allowed for girl talk. Something I never got at home because I only had brothers and a mother who favored her younger son over me.
Today, however, I'm thanking every and any God out there for Noah's presence in the car. I don't think I could have survived a car ride alone with Malia.
Noah and her effortlessly catch up in the front, going over what they've each been up to for the past six years, while I sit in the back, rereading one-worded texts from Liam, and Jess' countless apologies in the group chat.
Before Malia finished busting a U-turn earlier on our block, Noah was calling out shotgun, as if I'd even argue about it. Maybe if it was someone else driving I would've, but I had enough of Malia last week. I don't know why, but her actions are just coming off too shady for me.
As she pulls up to the curb of a beautiful, large house, I remind myself that I need to stop being so angry and annoyed at everything. Malia's clearly making an effort here, and sadly, she's all I have at Arlin Preparatory for now.
I take a deep breath in and exit the car at the same time Noah and Malia do.
"Nice," I hear Noah mumble as I pass him. "Who's place is this?"
"David and Daniel Williams," she answers.
A calming feeling comes to me at the fact that this is Daniel's house. He made a very good first impression, and if I had it my way, we'd become best-fucking-friends before classes start on Thursday. Out of everyone I've met, he seems like the most easy-going.
"Damn, they must be loaded," Noah says, drawing out the last word.
I turn to him with a quizzical look. Why is he so concerned about their wealth? Thanks to our dad's amazing jobâthat he's always put before our entire familyâwe have our own money. From the looks of it, we're of course not as rich as these kids, and certainly nowhere near the amount of money Malia must be worth because of her stepdad, but we're still doing pretty good ourselves.
Annoyance comes to me all of a sudden. Noah's practically drooling over this house and we haven't even stepped inside it yet. This shit shouldn't matter to him. It's mattered so much to our dad, and that's what's taken himâand all our friends back homeâaway from us.
I reach out my hand and smack Noah upside the head, causing him to yell out, "What the fuck?"
His shriek catches Malia's attention. "What happened, Noah?"
"Just Lynnie being her usual psychotic self," he replies, smiling brightly at our dear cousin. "Would you mind giving us a few seconds to talk privately?"
Malia eyes us skeptically, but shrugs her shoulders and walks up the front porch. From the looks of it, she's remembering that the way we act now is very similar to how we were when we were only nine years old. Time doesn't change everything, I guess.
"Woman, you need to calm the fuck down," he seethes at me the moment Malia's out of earshot.
"You need to calm down, brother," I say, stepping closer to him and pushing him harshly with my raised hand. "Don't give any of these people a bigger head by making goo-goo eyes at everything they own!"
He sighs and brings his hand to the side of head, rubbing slowly. "Let's make a deal: I stay out of your way for the remainder of the day, and you stay the fuck out of mine. Okay?"
I roll my eyes and push pass him, quickly walking up the stairs. "O-fucking-kay with me."
The door is already open, so I slowly step inside, ready to smack myself for causing a scene and making Malia go on without us. It's settling in that we know no one here, and the one person I would've had just made a deal to stay out of my way for the rest of the day.
"Hey!" I hear someone say cheerily. I turn to that direction, but I don't recognize the person walking closer to me at all. "You're Malia's cousin?"
Well, of course people would already know who I am, seeing as Malia's almost like a queen to these people. "Um, yeah, I am."
"Nice to meet you, London," the girl says. I tilt my head to the side, confused at the name and at how she even guessed I was related to Malia. Just as I'm ready to question it, I hear an annoying laugh that's all too familiar from behind me. "Are you her other cousin?"
Noah's cackles comes closer. "Yeah, I'm London's twin."
I groan out of annoyance, all of a sudden not giving a fuck about the wrong name or how this girl even figured me out. I instead take off down the first hallway I see, and don't look back.
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I've been wandering through the Williams' mansion for an hour now. You'd think I would have ran into Malia, Daniel, or at least Noah once... but no. I'm never lucky.
So far, I've been offered three drinks from sketchy guys, practically grilled by people who clearly don't know why I'm here since I haven't been to Arlin Preparatory yet, and called London six times.
The wrong name doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. What's really aggravating me is the fact that Malia hasn't corrected it. Maybe I'm just taking any opportunity to be mad at her, but damn, if she's so popular and well-liked, you'd think she'd be able to stop people from getting my name wrong.
I take out my phone, ready to push my pride aside and be the first to reach out to Liam, seeing as we've entered our own version of a staring contest, expect in this case, the loser isn't the person who looks away first, it's the person who gives in and calls first. I'm unable to admit defeat as I look out the sliding doors to the backyard.
I finally spot people I recognize. They're not the ideal ones I would have preferred to see, but they're all I've got right now.
I reach out for the handle, taking note that they're the only two out there. I get a weird feeling in my stomach, the kind that comes when you're not entirely sure if you're making the right decision. And, honestly, I'm probably not. But the rest of me doesn't seem to care as I open the door and quickly step out before I change my mind.
The two boys lift their heads up, stopping their conversation and turning to see who's approaching. David looks first, and the obvious distaste that comes to his face when he sees it's me has me wanting to turn around and leave. What the fuck did I do to him?
When dark blue eyes land on me, that fleeting feeling leaves. Stupidly, I somehow feel more welcomed to join.
"Hey," Jalen says breezily, leaning back into his seat and placing his unopened beer can onto the small table in front of him.
"Hi," I say shyly, barely recognizing my own voice. Since when did I ever talk that squeakily?
He smiles at me, dimple popping out instantly and making me feel warm. Oh my God, if Liam was here he'd kill me! That thought has me stop in my tracks, not wanting to get any closer.
"Hello, London," David says loudly.
Jalen and I both turn to David with confused looks, and I can't help but feel happy that at least Jalen remembered my name.
"It's Lyndon," I quietly correct.
"Pardon me, London?" David says teasingly, leaning forward in his seat with a hand to his ear.
I squint my eyes, examining him. Is he... purposely saying my name wrong? Was he the one who told everyone the wrong name?
"I said my name is Lyndon," I announce with a lot more bass in my voice.
He straightens up in his seat, feigning confusion, but for a brief second I see a glint in his eyes, and it let's me know for sure that this asshole does know my name. Or, at the very least, he heard me correct him the first time and was pretending he didn't.
Either way, I don't like him, and I know right then and there that I never will.
"Oh, Lyndon. Damn, why'd I think it was London?"
I shrug my shoulders. "Seems like you and everyone else here had the same thought."
His eyebrows raise. "Really?"
"Mhm. Someone must have said it once, and now it's spread around."
We stare at each other for a few seconds, and it feels like a challenge. I don't understand what this guy has against me, but now I don't even care. I've already decided I don't like him, so being a bitch to him will probably be my favorite pastime for the school year.
"That's a shame. Being called the wrong name must be irritating, London, damn it, I mean Lyndon," he says with a chuckle. "Oh man, why can't I remember that?" He turns to Jalen with a smile, but Jalen doesn't return it. "Maybe because I've never met someone with the name."
Jalen laughs at that, then turns to me. "This dumbass called me Jaden for the first couple of months we were friends."
Before I can even respond, David's talking. "Hey, you're the one who started writing Jaden instead of Jalen on all of your work."
"Because you got everyone to start calling me Jaden, too. Along with our fucking teacher," Jalen says while shaking his head.
"Oh man, that bitch was dumb," David says through his laughs.
I giggle at that, realizing that both of these guys are total idiots, and apparently so was their teacher.
David turns to me at the sound of my laugh. "So, Lyndon, that's your name."
Jalen rolls his eyes. "Yes. What is so complicated about that?"
The look David gives Jalen seems like more than just an annoyed glare. Jalen must sense this too, because he turns away from him and gestures for me to sit down.
Once I take the seat closest to him, he looks toward me, ready to say something.
"Linden Boulevard!" David announces with a snap of his fingers.
"Hmm?" I ask.
"Your name is Lyndon, just like Linden Boulevard. Part of it is in Queens, and Brooklyn, I think."
I'm familiar with the boulevard name, seeing as I grew up around that area before moving. It's just that the way it's spelt is different than my name, and I'm one hundred percent sure I wasn't named after it.
"I'd say my name is more like Lyndon B. Johnson then Linden Boulevard," I correct.
"Who?" he quickly asks, looking more confused.
"The thirty-sixth president?" I offer.
His face shows no signs of recognition, and when I look to Jalen, he doesn't seem to know who I'm talking about either.
"...of America?" I add.
"I got what you meant by president. So, thank you for the random historical fact, but I'll stick to associating your name with the boulevard."
"They're not even spelt the same," I say stubbornly, not wanting him to remember my name through something so stupid.
"But they're pronounced the same, and that's all that matters," he says with a smile.
I open my mouth, ready to argue, but Jalen subtly shakes his head, quietly telling me to just let it go.
So, I do. He clearly knows David better than me, meaning he knows we could argue about this for hours. Plus, he's finally getting my name right. I might as well take the win.
"Yo, David," someone shouts from inside the house.
David nods toward them, before rising from his seat and looking to Jalen. "I'll see you later." He reaches his hand out to slap it against Jalen's. "See ya, Boulevard," he says to me as he begins walking off.
"That is not my damn name!" I shout, but I only get a laugh out of him in response as he goes inside and closes the door behind him.
I turn toward Jalen, who's already looking at me with a small smile.
"He's not really gonna walk around calling me Boulevard, right?"
Jalen's smile grows, but even his dimple can't ease my anger in this moment. All it does is let me know David most certainly will call me that from now on.
"That's better than London, though," he offers with another smile.
"How?"
He takes a moment to look up and think. "Well, uh, it's like a cute nickname between you two, rather than him just saying the wrong name?"
"You don't even sound sure of that bullshit answer. How is it supposed to convince me?"
"Damn, you're right. I'm usually a lot better at convincing people to believe what I'm saying."
One look at his beautiful face and effortless charm and I have no doubt that he has no troubles convincing people of anything.
But, I won't say that shit to him. "Highly doubt it."
He smirks at me. "Then you'd be very surprised at the stories I could tell."
I really doubt I'd be surprised. My mind is running a thousand miles a minute with different scenarios, and my cheeks start to redden at some of the dirtier thoughts I'm having.
I shake my head and turn to look around the backyard, examining the lounge area we're in, then turning toward the grass surrounding us, focusing on the large pool in the center of it all.
"David's a swimmer?" I ask, turning back to Jalen.
His eyes are already on me. "Not really. His brother is, though."
I smile at that, able to perfectly picture Daniel swimming around the infinity pool.
"I always wanted one."
Jalen looks toward the pool, then turns back to me, tilting his head. "The pool, you mean?"
I nod my head. "I had one at my old house, but it wasn't an infinity pool. I've always thought they were so beautiful."
"I take it you're a swimmer, then?"
"I was," I say with a shrug, feeling like the times when I swam were a lifetime ago. "Haven't recently."
"How come?"
Memories of why come rushing back, so I close my eyes to rid myself of them. My swimming days were the only negative thing about Miami, and I don't like remembering them.
"I get tired of things easily," I answer.
When I finally tear my eyes away from the pool and bring them back to Jalen it's obvious he doesn't believe that's the reason, but he doesn't push it.
He looks at me a second longer, before saying, "Your eyes."
I widen them and move them around a bit, confused that that's all he said. "What about them?"
"They're so...different," he adds on, choosing his words carefully. "The color."
It's clear he's admiring them the longer he looks, and I'm sure he's meaning it as a compliment, but I don't take it that way. Because these eyes only serve as a reminder of who my father is. The color isn't unique at all to me. I see them everyday in the mirror, every time I talk to my brothers, any time I think of my dad.
I hate my eyes, and I hate when people try talking about them, simply because of who they came from.
"I guess," I say dismissively.
"You guess your eye color is different than most?"
"They're not different to me, Jalen," I respond.
His face drops at the sound of his name, picking up on the fact that I don't want to talk about this anymore.
"I have my grandfather's eyes," he says lowly. I turn back to him, curious as to why he's telling me this. "Neither of my parents have blue eyes."
"Are you, or were you, two close?" I ask as gently as I can, hoping he's not offended if the man is dead.
"Fuck no," he says with a sharp laugh. "He's a dick."
I laugh loudly. "I'm sorry you share his eye color, then."
"Don't be, it's great that I do. I've heard that my father didn't believe I was his son for years."
"I guess he doesn't know how genes work," I offer, holding in another laugh at his expense.
"It was either that, or just wishful thinking." He laughs as he says the words, but I can't help and wonder if there's anything humorous about that at all.
We're interrupted as the sliding doors open again, and Daniel steps out. "Lyndon!"
"Hey!" I say excitedly, finally happy to see the one person I wanted to make my friend.
I rise from my seat and accept the hug he offers, a little shocked at how tightly he's holding me. "I've been searching this whole house for you from the moment Malia said you were here."
I slightly pull back, but our arms stay around each other. "I literally spent the first hour trying to find you."
"Seems like you gave up and settled for Jay instead," he jokes, releasing me from his hug, but keeping one arm around my shoulders.
One look to the side shows me Jalen's smirk at that statement, seeming happy I settled for him. Before I can knock that thought out his head, I hear the door open again. I want to scream when I see it's Noah holding out two drinks.
"Here, Danny," he says, holding out one bottle of water to the boy next to me.
Did he just call him Danny? Oh hell to the no!
When Noah's eyes shift over to me, zoning in on Daniel's arm hanging off my shoulder, I'm almost positive our pissed off faces mirror each other's.
"What is this?" he demands, motioning with his free hand between Daniel and I.
Daniel looks confused, like a little child stuck in between a nasty divorce.
"This is me and my friend Daniel standing together," I respond, making my voice come out harsh.
"Your friend?" Noah asks, emphasizing the word as if he doesn't believe it.
I know I don't believe it. How in the fuck did someone like Daniel become associated with Noah? For fuck's sake, he's already calling him by his nickname!
Noah continues glaring at Daniel's arm around me, causing Daniel to slowly retract it. It's clear he's a little uncomfortable with what's happening, and he probably doesn't even understand what he's gotten himself into.
"Who's this?" I hear Jalen ask. He rises from his seat and comes closer to where the three of us are. I don't realize the question is directed toward me until I look over at Jalen and see his eyes on me before turning toward Noah, glaring at him the way Noah's glaring at me and I'm glaring at him.
Noah and I are doing it because we're jealous... we won't say it out loud, but we are. Why is Jalen upset?
"My brother," I respond.
"Wait, this is your twin?" Daniel asks with a smile, clearly ready to laugh.
"Oh," Jalen comments, losing the scowl from his face, not caring that much about the situation anymore.
"Aw, you talked about me, Lynnie?" Noah coos, pissing me off more.
"Well, when someone talks about their annoying twin, it's only natural that I tell them about you and let them know they're lucky," I say with a smile.
"You're a twin?" Noah asks Daniel.
Before Daniel can respond, I talk over him. "Oh wow. You know nothing."
"I know plenty," he quickly defends.
I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. "What happened to staying out of my way?"
"I didn't know you were back here. Trust me, if I did, I would have stood my ass inside," he responds, before shifting his eyes over to Jalen. "Actually, I take that back. I'm glad this happened. Who are you?"
"None of ya business," I quickly say, not wanting to give Noah the chance to talk to Jalen at all.
Noah rolls his eyes, but doesn't respond, losing interest in discovering who the guy his sister was alone with is. I turn to Jalen and see he's looking between Noah and I, and it kind of seems like he's focusing more on our features than our words.
God, he better not mention our eyes.
That thought leaves my mind when Jalen's phone rings, and he quickly answers it once he reads the name of the screen. "What do you want?"
Whatever the person says in response has the annoyance leaving Jalen's face in an instant, and he walks back toward the house without so much as a goodbye.
"No, really, who was that guy?" Noah asks, and I'm not sure if the question is directed toward me or Daniel this time.
"That's Jalen. He goes to Arlin, too," Daniel responds anyway, probably assuming I won't answer him again.
And he thought right, because I can't help but wonder who called. My mind travels back to the night at the warehouse when Daniel told Jalen some girl named Cortney was looking for him. Jalen didn't seem eager to see her, but he left anyway. The same thing seems to be happening now.
I shake my head, ridding myself of those thoughts and any feelings that were coming from them. I have no right to wonder who he's going to meet up with, and I certainly have no right to care. I got my own shit going on. The fact that I haven't had a proper conversation with my boyfriend in over week is bad enough, adding on the fact that our anniversary is coming up just makes it all the more worse.
"Jalen," Noah repeats thoughtfully, opening his bottle and taking a sip before continuing. "Wait, you mean Jalen Uccello?"
"How do you know his full name?" I ask, reeling my head back in shock.
"Unlike you, Lynnie, I know how to socialize with more than one person. I don't hide away in corners or backyards alone with strangers," he says with a fake smile, clearly not approving on whose company I was just in.
My new concern is wondering what in the hell my brother has heard about this kid that's making him upset about me being around Jalen.
"I'm sure you've heard enough rumors about Jalen in the short amount of time you've been here. I don't want to continue the trend of talking about him when he's not around to defend himself," Daniel says with a light laugh, before plopping down into the seat his twin occupied a few minutes ago.
I make a mental note of just how different Daniel and David are in this moment. Daniel is so, so sweet, while I can't see David having the decency of stopping a shit-talking session.
"So that's all they are... just rumors?" Noah asks, sounding a little skeptical as he takes a seat next to Daniel.
I plant myself into my previous seat, curious to hear what rumors Noah was told and if that's all they really are.
Daniel grimaces a bit, but quickly covers it up with a small smile. He opens his mouth, then closes it, carefully picking his next words. It instantly makes me worried for what the fuck people say about Jalen.
"Yeah," he finally decides on. "Mostly just rumors."
Mostly?