*Novel Still Untitled - But Will Be First In Series*
an excerpt

I find out my annoying boyfriend is a jerk when I go home for the weekend. It all starts when I'm sitting in the hall with Erica, Rica and Chloe. My roommate, Jessica pops her head out the door with the phone dangling from her right hand and sighs, "Kelly, it's your mom."

"Mom"
"Sweetheart, I need you to come home this weekend."
"Whats going on? Is anything wrong?"
"No, why would you think something's wrong?"
"MOM! What's going on?"
"Nothing. Nothing is going on. Your Uncle Howard is driving through on his way to D.C. and I thought you might want to see him."

This is the way conversations go with my mother. She can't just say what she needs to say and be done with it. I sighed deeply and audibly, and asked her for more details.

"Okay, yes I will come home. Why are Uncle Howard and Aunt Julie going to D.C.?"
"Your Uncle Howard is meeting some of his war buddies at the World War Two Memorial and they're doing this thing. Julie is staying with us for awhile."
"She's staying with you? She's not going to D.C. with Uncle Howard? Are they having problems?"
"No, why would you think they're having problems?"

And again, this is how things go when I try to talk to my mother. Rather than continue getting no real answers, I decided to wait until I talked to my Aunt and Uncle.

"Okay Mom, I will see you this weekend. I'm late for class."

Jessica asked, "You're going home this weekend, but you haven't figured out why yet, have you?"
"No, I know why. My Aunt and Uncle are coming to visit. I just don't know why my Aunt is not continuing on their trip with my Uncle."
"Oh, okay. Sure thing."

In my frustrated state, I picked up my Calc. book and headed for class, early. I grabbed Rica's arm and drug her along with me. We were going to make a pit stop by her room and her secret chocolate stash.

Friday's Chemistry class was so boring that I decided to just drive home and skip the rest of the day. The drive was therapeutic and helped me forget the drone of my professor's voice.

As I neared home, I rolled down my car windows so that I could get a whiff of the cool crisp fall breeze. The trees were changing and leaves were already littering the road. The short drive from the highway to home ran along Truss Road, which was one of my favorite rural roads. The trees billowed overhead and the sun never quite shined through them, except in the winter when the leaves had all fallen and everything was bare.

The sugar maple on the corner of Truss and Flag was as gorgeous as ever. The leaves were red and slightly yellow and dozens had already fallen around it's feet. This tree is the best thing about this neighborhood. The school bus picked us up from this corner and I'd sit under my favorite tree ignoring all the neighborhood kids to whom I was no longer on speaking terms. Regardless, seeing this tree always fills me with a sense of well-being. Even if it means that I am almost home.

I breathe the fresh scent in and pull into my parent's driveway. Their house is at a diagonal corner from the tree I love so dearly. The house is a simple two story dwelling with an average size yard for a development. The driveway is to the left of the sidewalk and my parent's red Buick is sitting in it's regular spot. I pull directly behind it, leaving room for my Uncle's car to pull in next to my parents'.

It's when I turn off the engine that I notice my Uncle Howard's laughter coming from inside the house. I look around and don't see another car, but figure that it is just another one of those things that I will never know because if I ask my Mom, she will want to know why I'm asking.

Uncle Howard was in the midst of telling one of his stories when I entered the living room. Aunt Julie was missing, but Mom and Dad were on the green microfiber couch. Uncle Howard was sitting in Dad's favorite red and yellow stripped wing chair with his feet propped up on the yellow ottoman. My Mom watches too many of those decorating TV shows and thinks she knows what she's doing. She doesn't, but I'm not going to be the one to tell her.

"Kelly!"

Uncle Howard jumped up from his seat and planted a big wet kiss on my cheek. His hands were holding my arms which prevented me from moving.

"Uncle Howard. I've missed you."

I weaseled out of his grip and hugged him hard. I am a hugger and I have stopped caring that I was accidentally placed into a family of non-huggers. Mom came over and patted my back and suggested that I sit down so that Uncle Howard could finish his story.

"Oh Darlene, let the girl be. She doesn't want to listen to an old man talk about old things," My Uncle Howard protested. "Now sit down and tell me about school."

It was an hour before I found out that my Aunt Julie was out doing early Christmas shopping and that she was not going to D.C. because she was bored to tears hearing the same stories repeated over the years. To spend three days with a bunch of her husband's old war buddies would, as she put it: "do me in."

Uncle Howard left for D.C. on Saturday afternoon, so I got away to visit my boyfriend. I had not seen Jake in two weeks and I missed him, even if he was annoying. It was a good thing that I neglected to call Jake and let him know I was going to be in town, or I never would have caught him cheating.

Jake's roommate Todd opened the door and just stared at me with a blank shock face. My heart fell to my feet and I pushed past him only to see Jake and some blond entwined on the sofa kissing heavily. I took in the scene of the two of them half laying on the sofa, half on the floor. Jake's left bare foot firmly on the floor, his right leg cradling this other girl's body. Her right leg and thigh were hanging off the sofa and she was using her right elbow to keep her from falling. Jake had his fingers in her hair, the way he would do with me. Seeing that, gave me my voice back.

"Jake!"

He jumped as best someone can do when they have another person laying across them. As he was trying to peep around her head, she turned around and sat up on his prone lap, crossed her arms and demanded to know who I was.

"I'm Jake's ex-girlfriend."

As I turned to walk away, Jake pushed her off and ran over to the door to catch me as I was leaving.

"Thanks."
"Thanks for what Jake?"
"Thanks for not blowing it for me."

Yes, I slapped him. I slapped him hard. He reached up and held his hand to his face and as he was opening up his mouth to speak, I put my finger to his mouth.

"You're welcome," was my reply as I slammed the door so hard it shook.

I cried myself to sleep that night and everyone left me alone. I was surprised that my Mom did not force herself into my room and try to act all motherly towards me. It was Aunt Julie who first spoke to me the next morning.

"Kelly dear, I was wondering if you wanted to do some shopping with me this morning. Just the two of us."
"I'm sorry Aunt Julie, I think I am going to head back to school early."

As my Mom objected to my rudeness in leaving early when company was visiting, I gathered my belongings, hugged everyone good-bye and headed out to my car. Mom followed me to the car, still talking. I was not listening. I just hugged her again, got in my car and drove away. Numb. I was numb.

Or maybe I was dumb. I could not decide. I was numb that Jake had been cheating on me. I was dumb because I dated a guy like Jake to begin with. I mean, how does someone do that? How does a guy get to a place where he can thank a girl he's cheating on for not causing a scene in front of the girl he's cheating with? How does a girl not see that her guy is the kind of person who could do such a thing? How dumb can I be? How dumb? Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

What I need is a guy like Andy. I need an Andy in my life. How does one go about finding an Andy? He's gorgeous. He's polite. He's kind. He's athletic. He's driven. He's got a real job and future ahead of him. He's the kind of guy you marry and have kids with. And he's not real. He's a figment of my imagination. Literally. Andy is not real.

Maybe I need to give Andy a last name. If I did that, then maybe I could imagine him more realistically. With actual faults. An imperfect, perfect guy. Yeah. I need to give Andy a last name. Ooh, but I don't want to ever meet someone with that name. That would not only be weird, but it would ruin my fantasy life.

"Andy, your name has to be fake. As fake as you are."

I wonder what people would think of me if they knew that I am driving down the road talking aloud to a guy I imagined. I would be locked up. The keys would be thrown away.