Home for the summer.  Again.

     After a substantial three years pursuing my higher education, I’m determined that the highlight of a college career is the three-month break in the middle of every year.  It’s not so much that I don’t enjoy learning…more that I need something else to do with my time.  Boys are fun.  Parties are fun.  Getting drunk is fun…occasionally.  Going to class and writing papers leaves something to be desired, though.  And do not even TALK to me about the prospect of a thesis.  We SO do not need to go there.  Especially not after a four-hour drive through the Florida sunshine without an air-conditioned vehicle.

     All of those stereotypes you hear about poor college students?  Yeah, those would be true.

     As a result of my seriously lacking funds, I was lugging the first of many big boxes up my front stoop that May afternoon.  I pressed the bell with my only free finger before rearranging my grip on the box and began tapping my foot while I waited for either a parent or my sorry excuse of a brother to save me from my misery.

     Tap.  Tap.  Tap.  Tap-tap…

     How fitting that no one in my family is cool enough to answer the bell immediately.  I was about to drop the box and start searching for my keys when the lock clicked and the door swung open.

     “Hello?”

     “Nice of you to open the door.  Mind letting me in now?”

     Unfortunately, the box was too large for me to see over.  Otherwise, I would’ve pummeled my brother for being a butthead and making me wait outside with half of my dorm room in my arms.

     “Lana?  Is that you?”

     No way.  No freaking way.  My family wouldn’t do that to me.  They weren’t that mean.  Hell, I wasn’t even that mean at six on a Saturday morning with a wicked hangover and an empty coffee machine.

     “Shit, I’m sorry.  Let me get that for you.”

     Suddenly, my load was lifted and I was staring into the clearest pair of blue eyes I’d ever seen.

     Yeah, they were that mean.  They were worse than that mean.  I was carefully plotting revenge when I was enveloped in a hug by the resident pop star.  Well, shit.  What a greeting.

     “It’s good to see you again, girl.  How’s college going?”

     I frowned inwardly and prayed that my brain worked well enough to formulate a response because, my gosh, the man took away my ability to breathe.  I was going to be lucky to get inside the house without passing out from lack of oxygen, and here he was, expecting me to make small talk.

     Right.  Deep breaths.  Good-NESS.

     “Great.”

     He grinned, and I could already hear my spine slithering away.  “Glad to hear it, though I wouldn’t have guessed it from a greeting like that.”

     Gulp.  Remember to breathe.  And to think! 

     I was SO not going to make a good impression here.

     “Sorry.  I didn’t know you were here.”

     Wow, two whole sentences at once.  One more proper response, and I’d be ready for preschool.  Sadly, I wouldn’t get to take Nick Carter with me if I went to preschool.

     On second thought, I think I’ll stay right here on the porch.  In the Florida heat.  Because I really don’t mind.  Especially not when he’s still smiling at me like he is now.

     Let me tell you, whoever picked that boy out of the crowd and put him on television was a genius.  With a smile like that, he could sell freezers to Eskimos.  In fact, he could probably sell them the matching ice cube trays too.

     “It’s fine.  I’m sure you’re tired.  You want some help unloading?”

     “Umm…”

     Yes.  Yes, dear GOD, help me unload.  When I’m unloaded, I’ll return the favor.  Really.  You just have to tell me where to go and what to do and I will seriously be yours forever.

     Something warned me that that wasn’t quite the right way to answer that question.  Didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.  I wanted him to think that three years at a decent institution had taught me better than that.

     “Nah, I’ll be fine.  Thanks, though.”

     He arched a perfectly dusted, golden eyebrow, and I fought the urge to flinch.  This boy was cuteness reinvented.  Hell, he was lust personified.  If lust had a human form, I’m convinced that it would be Nick Carter.  Freckles, pink lips, and all.

     “You sure?  They seem pretty heavy.  Just give me a sec to get Brent, and we’ll help you out.”

     I sighed deeply and tried to calm my beating heart as he ducked back inside to search for my moron of an older brother.  I was still attempting to coax myself into a relaxed position when both boys came sailing back through the front door.

     One look at the grin on my brother’s face, and I knew he’d sent Nick to the door on purpose.  Jerk.

     We began unpacking the boxes from my trunk in silence, but I could feel Brent’s eyes on me the whole time.  The silence was suffocating enough without his smirk, though.  For once in my life, I needed to make use of my brainpower and carry on a conversation with my crush.  Preferably a coherent conversation, but I wasn’t asking for miracles.  I just wanted to say something.

     “So what are you doing here?”

     I cringed as the words registered.  Brilliant, Lana, really.  I’m sure he feels very welcome now.

     Oddly enough, he just continued to smile that mega-watt grin of his.  “I’m on break right now, actually.”

     “Yeah,” Brent chimed in with a smile of his own.  “He’s going to be recording here all summer, too.”

     I almost dropped my box in surprise.  Nick Carter in Florida?  All freaking summer?  It was too much for me to process.  Instead, I closed my eyes and tried to refrain from ripping all of my hair out.

     It took ridiculous amounts of energy for me to form a single sentence in front of the blonde god.  And now I had to think up enough sentences to last me a whole summer?

     I was so screwed. 

2. Finding the Perfect Outfit
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