[ C h a p t e r - T h r e e ]

RINGTONE TO THE SIDE.

Savannah is American. Everyone in this story is American.

Guys, remember that her family INHERITED the house. They also renovated it to suit their family more. It's an old house, meaning it was built in a different way than the houses are today.

Chapter 3

On my way to my bedroom, I was stopped by my idiot brother. "Van!" he shouted.

I turned and looked at him; it was obvious that he was annoyed. "Yes?" I grinned innocently.

"Can you not give my number to random strangers?" I smirked at his comment.

"I'll try not to," I turned to walk to my room but he stopped me again by grabbing my arm. Instead of shrugging it off, I turned and looked at him.

"The guy said that he met you at the library. What were you doing there?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He dropped his hand from my arm and stood there, his blue eyes curious. His brown hair was disheveled, telling me that he'd gotten up from a nap recently and was most likely studying.

"I was getting a book for school," I replied, blinking a few times at him. He nodded. "He just walked up to my table, sat down and hit me with a bunch of pick-up lines."

"Do you need me to beat the guy up?" Jeremiah asked, crossing his arms. He was over protective of me. He wasn't a player in high school, the place he'd been only two years before. He was actually a nice jock, one who looked over the younger students to make sure they weren't being harassed. He was a peer mediator, too. As you can tell, we're complete opposites.

"No, I think I got it covered," I told him with a smirk. He furrowed his eyebrows and wrinkled his nose.

"Do you like this guy?" he asked.

I scoffed at the question while shaking my head. "No, not at all; he's a new student and he follows me around. He's aggravating," I explained.

"Just like you," my brother snorted, a smile on his lips. He started retreating back to his room. "If he calls me again, I'm giving him your number."

"No, you're not!" I snapped, desperation in my voice. "Right?"

"Tell him to try me," my brother turned in his doorway with a challenging look. I wrinkled my nose.

"Would you like that?" I couldn't help but smirk as my brother rolled his eyes.

"You're such a loser." He sighed, shaking his head while I just smiled and began walking towards my room.

***

My room is an array of different colors; containing a bit of pink. I know, I know; I don't strike you as the girl who loves pink. That's because I don't. I just like the color; it goes well with other colors, too. There's also green, black, white, and blue.

I settled onto my bed and turned on my television, ready to play videogames when a knock came from the door. "Hey, honey. It's mom," she called. I was surprised she didn't just barge in. She does that a lot.

I opened the door to be greeted with my mother who had a box of half-eaten chocolate chip cookies. I immediately accepted her peace offering, not that there was a need to have one- my mother and I rarely argue. She laughed and entered my bedroom, closing the door behind her while I sat on my bed eating the cookies like a pig.

"How was school?" my mother asked and before I had the chance to close the door, there was another knock. I groaned, putting the cookies down and walking to the door to see my brother standing there.

"Phone call for you," he told me, holding out his iPhone. I took it in my hands. "You have 2 minutes to talk and tell him to stop calling for you."

"Hello?" I asked, leaning against my doorway.

"Hey, Savannah." Jonah greeted.

"Stop calling my brother's phone," I snapped, annoyed. I was hoping he'd say yes and hang up the phone but instead he laughed.

"Him?" my mother piped in, sounding excited.

I glared at Jeremiah who just shrugged, mentally telling me that he had no clue our mother was in my room. I held up my hand, giving her a polite smile and she rolled her eyes. She'd just wasted a good fifteen seconds.

"Why should I?" he teased and I glared at the floor.

"I told you to, that's why," I retorted and he laughed again.

"I'm afraid that's not a good enough answer," he replied. I clenched my teeth and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"I will punch you in the face if you call again," I threatened and he laughed, again.

"Van!" my mother hissed and I shook my head in her direction.

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," he was obviously smirking.

"Don't you have someone else to annoy?" I responded.

"Not until four," he casually stated.

"Isn't that a line from Spongebob?" I asked him, my eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes," he answered.

"Is that what you do all day? Just sit around and watch children's television shows?" I snapped.

"And I think about you," he replied. I narrowed my eyes at the floor before my brother took the phone out of my hands.

"Times up," he pressed the phone against his ear. "If he calls again, Van, I'm giving him your number."

I had a feeling that my brother did that purposely so that the idiot would call again. I glared at my brother. "You wouldn't," I hissed.

"I didn't catch your name," my brother spoke, earning the attention of my nosy mother. "Jonah, you say?" my brother asked, smirking at me.

A moment later, my brother hung up the phone and what do you know? About 10 seconds after, his phone rang in his pocket and he gladly picked it up. "Jonah? How unexpected."

He then proceeded to deliver my number through the phone. I just watched in horror while my mom giggled girlishly. I tossed a glare her way and she winked. My phone started to ring from my bed.

Your subtleties,

They strangle me,

I can't explain myself at all.

And all the wants,

and all the needs,

All I don't want to need at all.

The walls start breathing,

my mind's unweaving,

Maybe its best you leave me alone,

a weight is lifted,

on this evening,

I give the final blow.

When darkness turns to light,

it ends tonight,

it ends tonight.

My ringtone, It Ends Tonight by The All American Rejects, was blaring. I stared at my phone in horror before I picked it up. "Savannah?"

"Eh, no, you've reached the pizza parlor!" I replied changing my accent from American to British to Italian mid-sentence. Let's hope he's as stupid as I assume.

"You mean the one in Saint Geraldo's place?" Jonah asked, amusement in his tone.

"Yes, that is the one!" I continued. I tried to make all of the words sound like the ones I hear from the imitators on television; it was hard when you're saying a different range of words.

"This isn't the number; we have the same area code. Saint Geraldo's is a town over," he explained.

"You remember the pizza place's phone number?" I continued, earning a chiding remark from my mother and a snort from my brother. Jonah laughed, too. "Or did you look it up?"

"I remember. But I am actually on my laptop scrolling on Facebook. Speaking of, do you have one?" Very subtle.

"No, I do not have a Face-a-book. Why would an Italian female co-owner of a three star pizza place add a random blabbering idiot on this, uh, Face-a-book?" I even winced at my terrible accent.

"I am not blabbering! Lose the accent; it's hard to understand what you're saying," Jonah snorted.

"It is hard to lose an accent after having it for 15 years. That is like asking you to drop eating pizza; you're so used to it," I grimaced at my worsening accent.

"You're 15?" he inquired.

"16 and 9 months, I don't know about you but I didn't pop out of the womb screaming 'pizza' in a thick Italian accent," I dropped the accent. My mother was staring at me with an eyebrow raised and my brother just shook his head before walking away, followed by my mother.

"That's a really nice image," he laughed and I rolled my eyes, turning on my MacBook. There's something we have in common; we both have MacBooks. That's probably one of the only things we have in common.

"I would love to think so," I responded.

"So do you?" He asked. I furrowed my eyebrows at his question.

"Do I what?" I asked.

"Have a Face-a-book?" I rolled my eyes.

"Why would I add you? I barely know you; you could be a stalker. Oh wait, you are," I told him.

"I'm a bit scared of you, actually," he admitted.

"And why is that?" I smirked.

"I've seen you make a guy bleed with one punch on the second day of knowing you; well, technically  the first," he shivered.

"Well, have you made any friends?" For some reason, I didn't want to end this conversation. It's been a while since I talked on the phone. Aside from the odd conversation with Mere or my mother, it's been quite a while.

"I'd like to say two, but knowing you, you'd say 'one.' So, yes, I made one friend," he responded.

"Who?" I asked him, logging into my Facebook. I typed in his name in the search bar. Okay, he did his share of stalking. Can't I do mine?

"Some girl named Lindsay, or at least she gave me her number. She told me to text her," he explained and I let out a quiet 'Ahh' sound.

"That's Lindsay for you, jumping on anything fresh and male," I replied with a snort. "What are you doing sitting on the phone with me? Call her."

I was scrolling through his pictures, feeling super creepy. I looked back to make sure my door was closed. "No thank you. I thought she seemed a bit...easy, but now that you've said it, my thoughts are confirmed."

"I speak the truth and nothing but the truth," I replied, clicking on the 'Profile Pictures' box. "Jonah, where'd you move from?"

"California. Why do you ask?" he was amused; did he know what I was doing?

"No reason, just curious. Why'd you move?" I asked. It just occurred to me that I could seem pushy. His parents could've died or something and here I am, pushing into his personal life like a bulldozer, or a human train. Someone say Jeffrey Shaw?

"My parents travel so much that my aunt and uncle decided to take us in. It wasn't much of a change seeing as I'm with my cousins and sisters, but I don't have any of my friends here." I felt a tinge of guilt for being so mean to him, but I wasn't going to apologize. Odds are I'm going to do it again if he stays around me.

"You have sisters?" I asked him. My eyes scanned the screen. It was pictures of him and a few guys hanging out around a bonfire; his hair soaking wet and a towel was draped around his shoulders. He stuck his tongue out at the camera. The weather must have been a big change for him.

"Yes, two actually." When he said those words, I landed on a picture of two girls who looked exactly the same. "They're twins, Sabrina and Sierra. They're fourteen." That explains it.

"Are they in high school?" I asked him.

"Yeah, they start tomorrow. They were too scared this morning. They weren't ready either," he snorted and I rolled my eyes. "They wanted to see how I took it." I smiled at that. He seems like a good older brother. "So I told them that it was terrible and that the food was disgusting and that all the freshman guys were ugly and stupid," he laughed maniacally.

I let out a loud laugh. That was unexpected. I continued laughing the more I thought about it; the look of horror on the girl's faces must've been worth it. "That was funny," I told him.

"But then I told them that it was pretty okay. I left out the part about people already hating me and chasing us down a hallway," he laughed.

"WHAT?" A girl screeched in the background and I let out another stomach aching laugh.

"I was only joking, Sabrina!" he shouted when I heard a door slam and he sighed. "Whatever, I'm not getting up to comfort her. She has a twin for that." I was still laughing; I just laughed harder and it interrupted my stalking.

"Anyway, the weather must have changed a lot from California, right?" I asked once I caught my breath. He was laughing just as hard as I was and he finally calmed down.

"Yes, that's for sure. That's another reason why my sister's couldn't make it to school. They'd yet to go shopping for appropriate attire," he informed me.

"Have you ever sees snow?" I asked him, clicking through his pictures. A picture of him in a large pool with one eye squinted closed and his hair over his face as he smiled up at the camera greeted me and I wrinkled my nose.

"Not before last week, no," he informed me and I let out a sigh. "It was hot where I lived; it wasn't cold enough for snow."

"It must've been nice in California," I rested my head on my pillow. "Are you completing this year? Or are you leaving before it's over?" I asked him, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before turning back to the computer.

"I'm staying here; I'm not going back to California. My parents didn't like it there, anyway. They had to travel too often. So you can get as attached to me as you want," he joked and I rolled my eyes.

"I didn't mean it like that, you idiot," I snorted, clicking through his pictures. I exited them after a moment when a shirtless picture of him came up. Talk about awkward.

"Sure you didn't. What are you doing?" he asked me and I coughed awkwardly. "I can hear the clicking of your computer."

"I'm just on Facebook," I admitted. I was lying by omission. I didn't include the part about me stalking him.

"Send me a friend request," he told me and I waited a moment before clicking the 'Add Friend' button. He laughed loudly.

"I didn't hear you typing in my name. Were you stalking me?" I felt my face warm up, meaning it was red with embarrassment.

"No," I replied, looking and noticing that he had one mutual friend. I wonder who it is.

Jeremiah Harp. I stared at the name for a moment before groaning in frustration. "You have my brother as a friend?" I asked, annoyed. Jeremiah is such a liar; I thought he didn't know Jonah's name.

"Yes, yes I do," he admitted and I exited his profile page. I'd done enough creeping for now. "We had a pretty long conversation last night."

"Then he did know your name," I said that more to myself but Jonah made a noise of agreement.

"I have a question." Before letting me reply, he continued. "If you're 16 and 9 months, then how did you have a job for a year and a half?"

"I had a job at an after school program for middle school students during sophomore year and I got paid $200 a week so I gladly dealt with their problems. I was a counselor; I know, terrible job choice. You only needed to be a sophomore to have that job, so I took it," I replied, chewing on my lip as I logged out of Facebook.

"Was that the job you got fired from?" he asked.

"Yes," I told him, turning off my computer.

"How?" he asked and I let out a hiss of air.

"One day, I was really annoyed and some 14 year old seventh grade girl went in there complaining about her boyfriend, mind you; I'm only 15 at the time and the only boyfriend I had was some jerk. I was already agitated and she just made it worse. She was complaining about how he didn't love her back and when I asked how long they'd been dating, she said a week."

Jonah was laughing. "I got so angry and I told her that she can't really love a guy she's only been dating for a week. She then told me that I knew nothing about love because I was just some ugly female dog. So I hit her," I told him and he stopped laughing. A minute later, his question was asked.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Yes, I slapped her in the face. I was physically removed from the premise immediately and told not to come back and I could forget about ever working there. But I was satisfied with what I'd done; I had another job cleaning up at a game store that my mother's friend owns," I admitted.

"That's a pleasant story," I smirked at his reply, looking at my digital clock. It was 4:32 P.M.

"Oh saltines, I have to go. I have work," I stated, standing up and running over to my dresser.

"I'll talk to you sometime," he replied and I replied with a laugh and a 'you wish' before hanging up the phone and stuffing it in my pocket. I grabbed my wallet, my keys and my name-tag.

Off to work.

***

"You're late," my coworker and best friend Meredith sang from behind the counter. She jumped over it and walked over to the anime games aisle and started reorganizing them.

"I know, I'm sorry. I lost track of time and ended up staying on the phone for too long. It won't happen again, Mere," I apologized, rushing over to stand behind the counter.

"On the phone? With a hottie?" Mere giggled and I shook my head.

"What's his name? I'm going to look him up on Facebook. You always lie about who's a hottie and who's not," she giggled and I told her his name before looking at the door. A young boy walked into the store.

"Hey babe, got any Mario Kart?" he asked. I furrowed my eyebrows at the ten year old standing in front of me, barely managing to see over the counter. Nobody can sound manly while asking for Mario Kart.

"Mario Kart is over there and my name is not Babe; it's Savannah. But to you it's Ms. Savannah," I snapped, glaring at the little boy.

"You're a babe, not my teacher," he retorted, looking back at his friends who snickered.

"I'm old enough to be your mother," I responded. Okay, it was a lie. I'm pretty sure that it's unlikely for a six or seven year old to even know the process of having children; never mind making one and pushing it out of her. "Go buy your Mario Kart," I snapped.

The boy checked out with Mario Kart and I watched as he exited the store and got into his mommy's car. Did she know that she raised a disrespectful little saltine?

"He is hot! I've just spent the last fifteen minutes looking at his pictures. You think it'd be weird if I just added him? You think he'd accept?" Mere asked, sitting on the counter cross legged. I shrugged carelessly. Her first sentence caught me off guard and I thought she was talking about the little boy.

"It's worth a shot," I shrugged. She nodded, clicking the 'add' button. "He's still a minor as far as I know," I warned and she laughed.

"I'm looking for a few dates, Van," she told me and I shrugged again. "Unless... he's into you."

I ignored the latter statement. "I just felt the need to let you know," I warned the 19 year old. It wasn't any major age difference. By the way he questioned my age; I knew he was older than me. He might be seventeen or maybe eighteen.

"When are you going to let me meet your brother? He's hot, too," Mere squealed and I shook my head.

"Never," I smiled and she rolled her eyes.