A/N Thanks for the reviews, everyone! 12 is a magnificent number to begin with...and thanks for keeping an open mind. Here is the update, I was kind of afraid NOT to update with Deema on my tail...


TODAY'S HEADLINE: DE SILVA LOOKS SET TO HOST THE PARTY OF THE YEAR!

The hot party tonight in L.A to celebrate the star's 21st birthday is the talk of the town.

Chapter Two

The De Silvas

The shrill wail of the door-bell rings through the house, but neither of us move. Anna has finished her Cinnabon, and is happily buffing her nails in the armchair across the room from me. I brush my bangs out of my eyes, and then carry on watching the biography of Hector De Silva.

"Door," declares Anna, still not moving. "You might wanna get that."

"You mean you might wanna get that," I correct her, eyes glued to the screen. "No doubt it's for you, Homecoming Queen. You're closer, anyway." In the end, though, I realise that she isn't going to move one inch, and I get off the couch to answer the door. I prepare my yes-Anna-is-here-please-stop-girlishly-squealing-and-then-I'll-go-and-get-her look, and pull open the door. But of course, it isn't any of the cheerleading squad. It's Jesse De Silva.

You've read 'Jesse De Silva', and I know an image has come to your head. Because to you, a name like Jesse can only mean one thing: a tall, handsome jock, with muscles bursting out of his football jersey, and a perfect, billion-watt smile. But in reality, Jesse De Silva is president of the mathletes, the Save Our School society (it's an environmentalist thing) and spends most of his lunchtimes in the library. But unlike me, who is seeking refuge from my sister's cat-calling cronies, he is actually in there to study. Seriously.

"Hey," says Jesse, smiling nervously. "It's Susan, right?" I nod, and invite him in wordlessly. He is greeted by Anna, who has come to inspect the visitor, since it's obviously an oddity me having a guest instead of her. But Jesse shoots her a polite smile before turning his attentions back at me. Both of us flinch at him, before finally assuming he's got us confused.

"You do know that Anna is the one who's Vice President, don't you?" I ask, pointing towards her. "And on the dance team. And on the cheerleading squad?" Jesse nods, a little dubiously, and turns around to look at her again.

"Go team," he says, with an unenthusiastic punch into the air. And then he addresses me again. "Susan, can I talk to you in the kitchen or something?" Anna gives a little sniff and disappears into the lounge, obviously not happy that someone is actually here to see me. I nod at Jesse again, and lead him into the kitchen. I'm a little freaked that he called me by my whole name though – I mean, even my mom calls me Suze, and she's the one who called me Susan in the first place (My mom is weirdly attached to the song that goes like "Oh, Susannah, oh don't you cry for me…" and she firmly decided that she would call her first daughter Susannah. It's just…well…when she found out she was having twins, she had to split the name between us).

"You want a soda or something?" I ask Jesse, as he sits down. I'm a little unsure as to what I do with a guest, having never had the honour of being a hostess before. And I mean that. In second grade or whatever, it was always Anna bringing home friends for cookies, not me. Jesse nods, and I throw him one – he drops it with a blush – and then I sit opposite him, expectantly. I truly have no idea what he's going to say.

"You're flunking math, yes?"

You know that faint pssht sound that the tab of a can of soda makes as you open it? I'm pretty sure that's the sound that came out of me after Jesse said that. It was so not what I was expecting. Of course, I also drop the can of soda I had been holding onto my foot, denting the aluminium and probably my talus (I'm not failing Biology…). Jesse blinks in my direction a few times, before asking if I'm O.K.

"Yeah…" I groan, massaging my foot. "And, um, yeah. I'm flunking math too." Jesse brightened – not the usual reaction. I raised an eyebrow, and he laughed.

"It only means that I won't make a fool out of myself," he explains, and I become intrigued. "Father Dom told me you were flunking math, and wondered if I wanted…and you wanted me, obviously, to tutor you." I almost choke on the first sip of my cola.

"T-tutor?" I repeat, coughing. "Um, are you sure?" I mean, there's a reason kids hang around my sister and not me. It may or may not have something to do the fact that I can touch and speak to the dead (I probably should have mentioned that sooner) or it may just be the fact that I'm subconsciously sarcastic and not really that much of a partier.

"Yes, I'm sure," Jesse assures me, with an unfailing smile. "What do you say then, Susan?" There he goes again with my full name. "Would you let me tutor you? I'm sure it will benefit you." He blushes. "I'm…I'm getting an A+." Geez. An A+? I guess that's what you get when you go in the library to actually study.

But in the end, I realise that a tutor will probably be as close as I get to a social life, and I throw my hands into the air, defeated. "Sure," I reply, eventually. "You can tutor me. If you really want." I can't help being a little unenthusiastic – I mean, I'm not exactly sure any amount of tutoring will ever help me out in math. Jesse, however, seems happy.

"Cool," he says, with a grin. We are then greeted by the, er, dulcet tones of Eminem and Jesse looks a little tentatively towards the lounge. I'm used to my sister filling the house with loud and sometimes offensive music, but I heard from someone that Jesse has five younger sisters. His house is no doubt filled with Hilary Duff and High School Musical, instead of Eminem.

"That would be my sister," I explain, but Jesse doesn't exactly look reassured. "She's watching MTV." He sips his soda wordlessly, and I do the same. The silence in the kitchen isn't awkward, but I still can't help wishing he would leave. I have a World Civ. Essay due in tomorrow, and I'm less than 100 words through it.

"Should we… set a time for me to come over?" Jesse asks, setting down his empty can. "That we stick to every week? I was thinking maybe a Thursday afternoon? Because I'm doing Mathletes on a Monday, and then I have Save Our School on a Tuesday…." I'm only half-heartedly listening, because something else has captured my attention. Anna had left Star Magazine on the kitchen table, and the headline catches my eye. Tonight Hector De Silva would be celebrating his 21st birthday. Jesse stops talking and followed my eye-line.

"Yeah," he says, sounded a little put out. "I guess he does kind of have that effect on people. The effect being that it stops you listening to anyone besides him." I smiled guiltily.

"I'm sorry…" I begin, but Jesse shakes his head.

"It's understandable. He's a great guy – tells great jokes," he adds, and I drop my can yet again – though thankfully this time it's empty. It was just a little surprising to hear Jesse speak so colloquially about a big-bucks-earning movie star.

"Great jokes?" I echo, a little humorously. "Never had you down as one to tune into MTV just to hear Hector De Silva's jokes." And then I realise for the first time that Jesse and Hector have the same surname, and immediately turn scarlet – I could see my reflection in the toaster. "Oh. Oh. You're his…"

"Cousin," Jesse replies, and I have to admit, I spot a little likeness. My cheeks still burning, I watch Jesse stand up and swing his satchel over his shoulder. "Maybe I'll just drop by and surprise you." I stutter something incoherent, and follow him to the door. Anna is now singing loudly along to the music, and Jesse looks a little pained as he passes the lounge door. "If I'm honest," he says, as I hold the front door open. "I prefer the sister that's not Vice President, cheerleader and member of the dance team." And then he steps outside.

"Go team," I say lamely, and Jesse just smiles.

"Indeed," he agrees, although I can see on his face he's dying to tease me for it. "I'll see you around, querida." I nod, and watch him walk away, before shutting the door.

Wait. What did he call me?