For all you ignoramus' netball is an Australia based game (although I think New Zealand and South Africa and a few other selected countries have it), and it's like basketball, but with more rules and stuff.

Sorry for lack of updates. Hectic schedule. ~**~ Part Seven

"I, uh, gotta cancel for this arvo," I said nervously over the phone. "Mum arranged something beforehand, and I forgot about it."

I could imagine Frost frowning.

"I can't get out of it," I shot in before he had time to say anything.

He sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Laura can fill you in."

End conversation.

By the way things were going, I wouldn't even have to contemplate about what I would do if Frost asked me to the dance. Now that Brad was a dead bloodsucking vampire, I had no one to take me. Frost and dancing probably weren't even compatible. I bet dancing wasn't even in his vocabulary. He probably didn't know how to dance. See? It was a good, good thing that he would never ask me to the dance. Or so I tried to convince myself. No dilemma about Laura putting dibs on him.

Meanwhile, we'd lost the netball match against Waverly High, ten to nil. Sullivan High was not known for their fantastic netball team. In many places, Sullivan High was not even known. Like today. Waverly thought they were playing against Richmond or something. I don't think Richmond even has a high school.

I checked the clock on the wall. Three. That meant that he was going to be here anytime now. Anytime. I had this all planned out. Keep him away from Frost, Amber and Laura. Considering that they were all going to be at Frost's house, it was going to be pretty easy. The park and the house were on the opposite sides of Sullivan. Okay, Sullivan ain't that big to make a difference, but at least they weren't next door to each other. Like us and my grandparents for example. They lived about three houses away. Thank God it was a business meeting, otherwise they would have had to come.

My grandparents are crazy. Mum just calls them senile. Dad doesn't even talk about them, much less talk to them. I think he's ashamed that his wife has crazy parents. From when we were little, Brian and I made a pact to never, ever, ever leave each other alone with them.

My grandfather was in the army, and constantly talks about his time in the war. That wouldn't be so bad, if we all hadn't known that he was actually a cook in the war, and never did any real fighting. Not that he talks about fighting. A conversation with him usually goes like this:

"How are you today, Jennifer?"

They insist on calling me by my whole name.

"Fine, thanks."

"What did you have for breakfast?"

"Just some cornflakes-"

"Cornflakes? Why you younglings have it easy, don't you? We had no corn in the war, much less cornflakes! And I suppose you had milk with those as well? In the war, the only way we'd get calcium was by chewing the bones of the dead! And fresh juice too? Ha! Nothing fresh for us! The only juice we'd be able to get was from them poisonous red berries. They were the only way we could get vitamin C, and soldier's died from consumption if they ate too much, but they died from vitamin C deficiency if they ate too little..."

And so on and so forth.

The sound of electronic "Jingle Bells" echoed through the house and I jumped. The previous occupant had installed the stupid doorbell, and as of yet (we've been here for about ten or so years...) we haven't got around to changing it. I think mum secretly likes it. I know dad hates it, because he complains every time he hears it.

"Goddamn it Lydia!" I heard him curse. "When are we going to get rid of that goddamn bell? It's like bloody Christmas every bloody time someone rings it. Jesus H. Christ."

I checked in the mirror for the last time. I'd dressed in a blue tee, and a regulation length denim skirt. Uhuh, that's me, Jennifer Mackay, cool, calm and casual.

"Just call me Jen," I said, and winked at my reflection.

Ugh. Too flirty.

I held my hand out. "Hi, I'm Jen. What's your name?"

Too preppy.

"Whatsup?"

Too try-hard.

"Hey, my name's Jen. My folks said I had to show you around."

Too sullen-teenager.

"Jen! Are you coming down?"

Maybe I could just pretend to be mute.

I hopped down the stairs, peering over the banister, hoping to catch a glimpse of him before he caught a glimpse of me. You know, just in case he was butt ugly.

"Unmph," I said, as I hit my arm against the wall, which consequently led to my tripping down the stairs, and falling into a heap at the bottom.

"Shiii-iiishkabab," I said, remembering that we had company just in time. The awful humiliation. The awful curse of the Dawn. The awful clumsiness that had skipped a generation from my parents, and was passed on to me, but not Brian. It was not worth opening my eyes.

"Are you okay?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

My eyes snapped open against my will to the sound of the delicious sex-on- wheels Irish accent. Not that I've had sex or anything. Being next to Frost was probably the closest thing to sex I'd ever had. Laura - the prettier and more experienced one - had had sex with her last boyfriend, and told me so many details that would put a virgin off sex forever.

I wouldn't have minded having sex with this guy though.

Green eyes were probably the first thing I noticed. Then it was the body encased in t-shirt. Then it was the slightly upturned lips that hinted at a smile. Then the dark hair that reminded me of Brad Pitt with dark hair before the days he decided that he wanted to be a victim of fashion and grew his hair long. He looked nice, and rugged, and had the wholesome, boy- next-door, innocent eyes thing going on. As opposed to the dark, mysterious, dangerous, bad-boy thing that Frost had going.

"Gee you're pretty," I said, and died of humiliation the second time in the space of two minutes. It had to be a record. The last time I was so embarrassed had been when I slipped on my ass into mud, and looked like I had shitted my pants for the rest of the day.

"Thanks," he said and pulled me up. "You must be Jennifer."

"Jen," I said automatically. I was determined not to make a fool of myself the second time round. "Who are you?"

"I'm Lachlan."

Lachlan! What a name!

"You can call me Lock."

Lock! And I was the Key! As in MacKEY. Ok, it was Mackay, but Kay sounded a bit like Key, right? Right?

Dad cleared his throat. "This is my daughter, Jennifer."

I looked at Lock's parents. I looked at Lock. Then, I looked at his parents again. He looked vaguely like his father, but all in all, there wasn't much resemblance except for the colouring.

"Lachlan's always taken after his grandparents," his mother said, as if reading my mind. Her mother looked like the type who'd never worked a day in her life, and sat at home watching The Days of Out Lives. I would've said she looked like the type to watch Jerry Springer, but she seemed too classy to watch something so low. Expensive, exotic perfume permeated every pore of her body. She stank like a bouquet of flowers. Her makeup matched her dress as well, and I could see none of the discoloured skin, which was the tell-tale of bad foundation applying. Everyone in Sullivan, except for my grandmother who thought that makeup was the work of the devil, wore discoloured foundation to some extent.

His dad wasn't much better, in his classy business suite and tie. He looked like a lawyer. Goddamnit, why did he have to have more respectable parents than me? Sure, my mum is nice, but she thinks that peddle-pushers were the height of fashion, and my dad...well, I don't want to be here forever, do I?

"Honey, why don't you take Lachlan out and you can get to know each other better, and you can show him around. Remember to be home at six," mum said.

"Oh, that's alright Mrs. Mackay-"

"Lydia, please."

"-I'm sure Jenni...Jen has other things to do."

Not only did the perfect parents come to our house, but they also had the perfect son! The perfect son with the perfect body. I had to check that I hadn't drooled on my t-shirt.

"No, no, no," I said. "That's fine. I'll take him to the park." I gave Lock a brilliant grin that meant, 'I'm really, really friendly and you'll love going to the park'.

"Well, if you're sure..."

"'Course I'm sure," I said, and all, but shoved him outside.