Okay, so I know it's been forever since my last update...I've been doing so many things (not to mention a killer writer's block!) But the summer is winding down for me, and updates should be more regular now. I'm gonna be a senior...go me!

Anyhoo, thanks for all the reviews, they've been bitchin'. They make me happy, like little cupcakes! But enough of my strange metaphors. On with the story!

Chapter 4: California Boys

Three days later, we left. Jackie was sad to leave her loverboy, but I couldn't get out of there fast enough: watching Jackie and Charlie's incessant canoodling only made me more painfully aware of my own nonexistent love life…to say nothing of the fact that the only other male in suite 513 at the Atlantic City Hilton was a total asswipe who couldn't even hold his alcohol.

"It's just not right," I communicated to Charlotte over Frappucinos at Starbucks one particularly scorching day in early July. "I mean, Jackie just walks by and every guy in a one-mile radius is hopelessly in love with her."

"I know exactly what you mean," Charlotte replied. "She's got a rich, good-looking, nice guy without even trying, and here we are…rejects."

"I know, right?" I absentmindedly said. "What's wrong with us? Are we defective or something?"

"Maybe." We both stared at each other, scrutinizing, hoping to find the answer: there was Charlotte, five foot five inches, with high cheekbones, dazzling almond eyes, slightly chubby, dressed head to toe in Urban Outfitters wares. She wasn't the ideal American Beauty, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with her. And then there was me: size 10, choppy pink hair, torn up Levi's and even more torn up flip-flops, slouching over in my chair.

I sighed, taking another sip of my mocha Frap. I probably got mistaken for a homeless person a lot.

"Don't sigh like that, Duckie," Charlotte scolded, pounding her fist on the table. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with either of us, god dammit! Some day we will both find men who appreciate us for what we are!"

"You're damn right!" I answered in equal volume, standing up. Charlotte was my soul sister—we didn't need some stupid guys to make our lives complete! This was the 21st Century!

Unfortunately, I decided to look around from my spot on my proverbial high horse: we had attracted quite a bit of attention. Everyone in Starbucks was staring at us like we were escaped mental patients. I picked up my Frapuccino and cleared my throat.

"Well," I said, doing my best Peter Griffin imitation, "time for me to be hittin' the old dusty trail." I turned to Charlotte. "Thanks for the coffee."

As I opened the door, I ran smack into Kat, spilling my Frapuccino all over my chest. She grabbed my shoulders and began jumping up and down anxiously.

"Lizzy, Lizzy, you won't believe this!"

"What?" I asked, pushing her off of me and grabbing a handful of napkins.

"You will not believe who's in our living room right now!"

"Who?"

"Guess!"

"Come on, Kat. I don't have time for this." She just stared at me without any intention of telling me until I made a guess. "Michael Jackson?"

"Close, but no," she answered, latching back on to my shoulders. Her face suddenly took on an expression of dread and anxiety, like she was about to tell me that the four horsemen of the Apocalypse were in our living room. "You remember our cousin Colin Summers?"

My eyes widened in horror. Remember? How could I forget that? "Creepy Cousin Colin?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yup," Kat said, returning to her usual cheerfulness, "that one."

Now it was my turn to grab on to Kat's shoulders. "What do you mean, he's in our living room? How? Why?"

"He says his house is being renovated, and he just showed up at our door this morning expecting us to let him shack up with us for the rest of the summer!"

My eyes pretty much popped out of my head. Creepy Colin, here, for the whole summer? Could things get any worse?

"What's going on here?" Charlotte asked, handing me some more napkins. "What's up, Kat?"

"Our cousin Colin just showed up unannounced at our house," Kat answered, like she was tired of saying it. I didn't blame her.

"Creepy Colin?" asked Charlotte. "The pasty nasal breather threw a baseball at you and broke your nose at a family reunion when you were thirteen?"

"That's the one."

"Oh god, I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault," I absentmindedly replied, throwing my napkins away. "It's my bad karma. This is what I get for making fun of hobos."

"But Elizabeth, you're Episcopal," said Kat unintelligently. "You don't believe in karma."

"Well," I answered, "how else can you explain Colin Summers in our house right now?"

"Okay, maybe it is karma," Kat concluded. "Anyway, there's no time to waste! You have to get home before he bores us all to death!" She grabbed me by the wrist and began dragging me out the door of the coffeehouse.

"Bye!" I called to Charlotte as I passed through the doorway. "Thanks for the coffee!"

"Elizabeth," Colin called, standing up from his seat on the couch, "it's so nice to see you again. You've grown into quite the lovely young woman."

Oh god, kill me now, I thought. He was still as pale and chipmunk-cheeked as ever, but had tiny metal-framed glasses covering his squinty eyes, not to mention a pink Lacoste polo shirt and Birkenstock sandals with white Gold Toe socks. He screamed metrosexual in a really, really bad way.

"Colin," I replied absentmindedly. "Um, hi." He reached out to me and wrapped his chubby arms around me in a crushing hug. He smelled like he had bathed in Ralph Lauren cologne; it wasn't until I found myself in a coughing fit from the stench that he pulled away.

"To what—ahem—do we—ahem—owe this—hack—pleasure of your—rrrreck—visit?"

"Oh," he began, patting my hand, "My employer, Catherine Burton—the widow of the famous movie tycoon Andre Burton—is having her house redone, and the guesthouse I live in has been completely gutted." I snapped my hand away and focused on the tiny alligator applique on the left side of his shirt. Not even five minutes and already this was spiraling down a violent path to the Twilight Zone. "So I'm hoping that you and the rest of your wonderful family will put up with me for a comparatively short period of time. I'll try not to be an inconvenience to you, Elizabeth."

Fat chance of that, I thought, rolling my eyes.

"Lizzy," hissed my mother, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to the side.

"What?"

She whispered in my ear, "Be nice. Colin works for an A-list celebrity, and he makes quite a lot of money. Plus, he's our relative. I will not have you making us look bad."

"Chill out, mom," I seethed back, shaking off her grip and walking over to the stairs. "I'm going to my room," I announced to the rest of the party. "If you need me, I'll be listening to the Killers."

"Hey, waidaminnit!" Gabrielle called, as I approached the staircase. She grabbed my wrist and stared up at me with her beady blue eyes. "You're supposed to take me and Kat to the mall!"

"I am not," I groaned, walking up two stairs and hoping she would let go. What was it with people holding onto me for dear life today?

"But mom said you would!" I turned around and shot her the Death Glare that she was so fond of bestowing on others.

"She did? Well, if she did she certainly didn't talk to me about it first. And as far as I'm concerned, I'm not taking you."

"Oh yes you are," mom called from the living room. "You are taking your sisters to the mall whether you want to or not."

Gabrielle grinned smugly up at me and stuck her tongue out. I had the urge to grab it and rip it out of her mouth, but I decided against it.

"Fine, whatever," I said indignantly. I was going to take this with dignity. "Anyone who's going, come on." Gabrielle and Kat lined up behind me. "Coming, Sharon?" Sharon shook her head halfheartedly and I rolled my eyes. Go figure.

"I'm coming," Jackie said, rushing toward the coat closet. "Just let me get my stuff." She pulled out her purse and a flossy knit shrug and stood at the front door.

"Oh, why don't you take Colin with you?" suggested my mother.

"But—"

"Hey, you know, that would be fantastic," Colin enthused, clasping his hands together. "There's this shirt I've been dying to get from Hollister; you do have a Hollister at your mall, right?"

"Duh," Gabrielle said. "We've got, like, everything."

"Splendid, then," squealed mom. "Colin will go with you, and you can take the minivan. Sharon, go with them."

"How about no?" Sharon answered, delving back into The Perks of Being a Wallflower. How fitting.

"Go!" Sharon scrambled off the couch and slammed her book shut. She glared at me and grabbed her messenger bag from the landing on the stairs.

"God help me," I mouthed to Jackie. She chuckled and we headed out the door.

"Where could they be?" I asked, sucking down my strawberry banana smoothie. "She said they'd meet us her at 3:30!"

"I wouldn't worry about it," Colin offered, trying to sound helpful. "They're probably just trying on skirts in Aeropostale. It's a shame you guys don't have more money; Catherine Burton's daughter Melanie is a total designer clothing horse! She can barely keep track of all the Chanel and Valentino and Louis Vuitton! Melanie has this gorgeous tiered Cavalli miniskirt that would look so fabulous on your youngest sister Gabrielle, if only you could afford it—"

"Colin, please shut up," I interrupted, slamming my smoothie on the food court table. "I don't want to hear about Catherine Burton or her daughter!"

"Pardon?" he asked.

"What Elizabeth means," Jackie covered for me, "is that it was kind of you to compliment Gabrielle, but that it makes her very sad that we do not have the money to afford such wonderful couture."

"Ah, of course," Colin replied, peering at me from over his nose. "Envy is a powerful emotion."

Envy! Hardly!

I clenched my hands into fists and sat on top of them to keep from pounding Colin into a pulp. Envy? Why would I be envious of some rich bitch and her daughter, with so serious a lack of brain cells as to actually hire Colin?

Maybe I should have punched Colin, just because it would have been so easy. But the sound of Gabrielle calling out, "Hey! Hey, Lizzy!" diverted my attentions. She and Kat had shopping bags on their arms and were grabbing two guys by the wrists. "Hey Lizzy, Jackie, guess who we found!"

"Jesus?" I asked sarcastically.

"Just turn around, you stupid girl."

"Oh, for the love of—oh, hey Denny!" I turned around once again to face my friend; only this time, he had someone else with him. And this someone else just happened to be absolutely stunningly gorgeous. I swear, if there were ever a time to believe in love at first sight, this was it.

This angel who was standing slightly to my right had a mop of wavy golden-blonde surfer hair, a tight The Bravery shirt, skinny Levi's jeans, dark green Converse, and a sort of half-smirk-half-nervous-smile that made me want to jump him right there; in short, total California Urban Outfitters poster boy. I had already fallen hard.

"Oh, yeah," Denny said, quickly glancing from me to the Golden Boy, "um, Elizabeth, Jackie, this is my friend Aaron Wickham. He's our band's new guitarist."

"Hi," Aaron said cheerfully. "Nice to meet you ladies…and your friend." He gestured at Colin, who held out his hand readily, squawking, "Colin Summers, nice to meet you," like the parrot he was.

Gabrielle giggled flirtatiously and grabbed my arm. "Isn't he scrumptious?" she hissed in my ear. "I'd totally do him anytime."

"Ew," I mouthed, pulling my arm away. It was one thing to think about shagging the living daylights out of Aaron Wickham on a food court table (my idea) but it was something just better left unsaid; unfortunately, my fifteen-year old sister had to say it.

"Aaron just moved here from Los Angeles," Kat announced, trying to bring attention to herself (which was a good idea, because we had pretty much forgotten she was there, per usual.)

"Yeah," Aaron added. "I tried to break into the music world, but the cost of living in LA just got to be too much."

"So that explains the surfer look," said Jackie. "Did you grow up there?"

"Uh, no. Actually, I grew up on Cape Cod. I only lived in Cali for about a year."

"Cool," was all I could manage to say in an uncharacteristically breathless way. I gazed up at him, and our eyes locked for a split second, before something else (unfortunately) caught my eye—Charlie Bingley and Adam Darcy at 12 o' clock!

"Oh Jackie," I said, gesturing for her to look behind, "there's your loverboy." I smiled evilly at her, my eyes narrowed. This would be payback for Atlantic City. I stood up and cupped my hands around my mouth. "Yoo-hoo, Loverboy," I called in Charlie's direction. "Over heeeeere!"

"Duckie, please," Jackie yelped, burying her head in her hands. "This is so embarrassing."

"What's going on?" Colin asked, looking around frantically.

"My boyfriend, apparently," Jackie replied, taking a deep breath and smiling. She stood up and walked over to him; he pulled her into a deep kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist. It was a totally unnecessary public display of affection, but I suppose they deserved it. They were both wonderfully sweet, generous people. That…that was something to be envious of. I turned to Adam Darcy, who was looking on with an expression of mild disgust. I whipped back around to face Aaron.

"Ignore that, please," I said, pretending to wave the situation away. "They haven't seen each other in a while—which is weird, because he only lives, like, a few streets away from us."

"It happens," Aaron replied. I nodded vigorously, getting lost in his blue eyes again. But Gabrielle jabbed me in the side with her elbow and woke me from my unspeakable daydream.

"Oh my god," she hissed, furrowing her brow to look serious, "that dipshit Darcy is coming over here!" I thought I noticed Aaron twitch slightly at the mention of Adam's name.

Whoa, what do we have here?

"Well, that made my day," Adam said, announcing his unwelcome arrival. "Nothing like two people sucking face in the middle of a mall food court to make you feel good about yourself."

"Yeah, whatever," said Gabrielle, latching on to Aaron as I walked closer to Adam (probably a bad move.)

"You're a bit more sarcastic than usual, Adam," I observed, placing my hands on my hips and cocking my head to one side. "It is alright if I call you Adam, isn't it?"

"I guess," he said detachedly. "I really don't care what you call me…I'm sure you've called me plenty of things."

"You know it." He looked over my shoulder at what was happening behind me. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he took a deep, labored breath. Jealousy, perhaps, at the California god my sisters and I were hanging with? I decided to reserve my theorizing until I knew more.

"Oh, Adam," I said, gesturing in the direction of Gabrielle, Kat, and Aaron, "This is our new friend Aaron Wickham. And of course you remember my youngest sisters, Gabrielle and Kat. And this is Colin Summers, my cousin." Adam grunted and nodded his head, and Aaron nodded back. Colin looked auspiciously from one to the other, trying to comprehend this sudden influx of new people.

"Well, it was, um, nice to see all of you," Adam finally said hazily, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking off.

"That was weird," Kat announced. "Why did he come over here at all?"

"I don't know," Gabrielle answered the rhetorical question. "Probably just to bother us." She suddenly switched on her biggest smile and turned it at Aaron Wickham. "But enough about that guy. Aaron, you should totally come to my Aunt Alice's Fourth of July party tomorrow night! Everyone who's anyone in Meryton will be there, and you should meet them all!"

"Yeah, totally!" Kat agreed.

I would have said something, but I was much too preoccupied by the meeting between Adam and Aaron. When I mentioned Adam, Aaron twitched. When Adam saw Aaron, his eyes bugged out. Weird things, indeed. My head had gone to outer space.

"I'd love that," Aaron enthused, "but I don't think I've been invited."

"Oh, that doesn't matter," said Gabrielle, grabbing his arm. "You will be universally loved."

"Yes," I added absentmindedly. "At least more so than some people."

"Duckie," Jackie called from across the food court, "Charlie and I are going to a movie! I'll see you later!"

Oh, to be young and in love, I thought, chuckling.

"Hey, you guys actually made it," Gabrielle said, dragging me over to the arch-shaped trellis in my Aunt Alice's backyard where Aaron, Denny, and Denny's younger brother Quentin were gathered. She plucked two bottles of beer from a nearby bucket and walked across the lawn to the three boys. "What's up?" She handed one Miller Lite to Denny and the other to Aaron. They twisted off the caps and held out their bottles in cheers.

"Such service," Aaron laughed. I held out my wine cooler and Gabrielle stuck her highly illegal beer in the jumble. Drinking when you're fifteen and surrounded by everyone you know? Hey, I never said Gabby was the sharpest tool in the shed. But I didn't bother saying anything. "What shall we toast?"

"America, I guess," I announced, looking up into Aaron's deep blue eyes. He smiled at me and clinked his bottle against mine.

"To America," he replied, and we all took swigs. It was definitely the cheesiest moment of the entire summer. In the meantime, Gabby had linked her arm with Aaron's and was leading him off in the direction of all the adults.

"Come on, Aaron, I want you to meet everyone," she said, pulling on him. As I watched them walk across the lawn, Charlotte came up to me.

"Hey," she asked, peering in Aaron's direction, "who is that fine hunk of man over there with your obviously underage sister?"

"Are you trying to tell me something, Char?" I laughed, taking a sip of my Bartles and Jaymes.

"Just answer the question."

"Well, if you insist on knowing, his name is Aaron Wickham. We just met him yesterday at the mall; he's the new guitarist in Denny's band."

"Uh-huh, is that right?" We stared at each other awkwardly for about half a minute before we both burst into laughter. We were quite a spectacle.

"Oh my god, seriously," I choked out in between school girl-ish giggling, "he is so gorgeous, though!"

"If you like that sort of thing," she said, cocking her head to the side.

"What sort of thing?"

"You know, the surfer pretty boy types. Definitely right up your alley."

"Well thanks, Dr. Ruth," I snorted, resting my hands on my hips.

"Dr. Ruth is for sex, not matchmaking," retorted Charlotte, smacking me on the side of the head. "Retard." We both had a good laugh about it, and sat down on the backyard swing.

"But really, Char," I said, moving my feet back and forth with the creaking swing, "the weirdest thing happened yesterday when we met him."

"Do tell…"

"Okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone, got it?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye and all that junk."

I pulled her in close to me and whispered in her ear. "We were at the mall—you know, Gabby and Kat and Colin and Jax and me—and we're all sitting there talking to Aaron, right?"

"Uh-huh, I'm with you so far."

"Anyway, and then Charlie and that Adam wanker Darcy came up to us and Aaron got all twitchy."

"What do you think it was?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"That's not the end of it though. And then when Adam saw Aaron, his eyes went all huge and buggy and--"

"So do you think they know each other or something?"

"That's gotta be it," I said matter-of-factly, "unless they both had minor heart attacks at the same time or something else highly improbable."

"Well, why don't you ask him, then?"

"Who? Aaron or Adam?"

"Either one. But I think you have a better chance of talking to Aaron. He's walking right towards us."

I immediately straightened my posture, quickly flipped my hair, and acted like my conversation with Charlotte was completely casual. Completely casual. As if I could ever pull that off.

"Hello ladies," Aaron greeted us, waving nonchalantly. "Some weather we're having, huh?"

"Weather?" Charlotte snorted. "Who talks about the weather? We wanna know all about you."

"Yeah," I continued. "Like what music do you like, or are you into scrapbooking—"

"And how do you know Adam Darcy?"

"Charlotte!" I squeaked, going completely bug-eyed. How dare she ask him something like that right off the cuff?

"What?" she answered sheepishly. "It's a perfectly legitimate question."

Aaron smiled and sat down on the grass in front of us. "Actually, I was hoping nobody would pick up on it, but I guess you ladies are far too sharp for me."

"And?" Charlotte pushed. Honestly, how could she be so tactless? I mean, I was dying to find out too, but come on!

"Well, it's kind of complicated," he began, "and you have to swear not to tell anyone. I don't want to make a big deal out of it, okay?"

"We promise."

"Okay, so…honestly, I've known Adam Darcy my entire life."

"No!" I gasped.

"Yeah. We grew up together. My dad worked for his dad, and they were very close friends. The old man thought of me as a second son. Adam was never really popular, so I was kind of his best friend by default. We went to the same boarding school and everything." Suddenly, he stopped speaking and looked off into the distance.

"And then what happened?" I asked, more than a little anxious.

"Well…my freshman year of high school, my dad died. Mr. Darcy basically took me in and cared for me. Adam and I both graduated at the top of our classes. But then Mr. Darcy died that summer before I started college. In his will, he had set aside money to pay for my tuition to go to Yale just like Adam."

"Wait—you went to Yale?"

"Yeah, but I dropped out. I woke up one morning and realized that this wasn't the life I wanted, you know? It might have been fine for Adam, but I wanted to travel the world and learn my own way. Adam was a few years older than me, and he had already graduated, so he was in charge of his father's estate; so I asked him for the rest of the money that was set aside for my tuition so I could travel."

"What'd he do?" I asked, eyes wide.

"He said no. Not only that, he totally cut me off. I had nothing. I had just enough money in my savings account to buy a plane ticket to Los Angeles. I went through bartender training and got a job at a club. I tried to make it as a musician, but it just didn't work out. Life in California got too expensive. And I heard that a band here was looking for a new guitarist, and rest is history."

I shut my eyes tight and tried to take in everything Aaron had just told me. I couldn't believe that Adam Darcy would be so cruel! I mean, I knew he was a prick, but I didn't think he could be capable of something like that.

"That…that asshole!" I seethed, standing up. "That is so terrible! The next time I see him, I am totally going to kick his ass!"

"Errr…" Aaron stammered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "That's not really necessary. I mean, my life's not so bad. If it weren't for all this shit that happened, I wouldn't be here. I'm surrounded by friendly people, the weather's nice, and I have a roof over my head."

"Well, when you put it that way…" I answered, sitting back down.

"Plus, I don't want to make a deal out of it. It's not my place to disgrace him. Eventually, I'm sure he'll do that himself."

"Oh, I think he already has," blurted Charlotte.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, nothing." We stood in silence, glancing shiftily at each other, until I saw Gabrielle running toward us in the distance.

"Aaron, Aaron, you gotta see this! Mr. Wong got so many fireworks!" She jumped onto his back and latched onto him. "Come on! Gimme a piggy-back ride!" Aaron laughed and hauled her away to where Charlotte's dad's truck was parked, the bed full of fireworks.

"Oh, now that's just sad," I said, turning to Charlotte.

"What: your sister, Adam Darcy's heart of stone, or the fact that my dad didn't get arrested for transporting all those fireworks?"

"All of it," I answered, taking another swig of my wine cooler. "Oh well. Happy Independence Day, Charlotte."

"Are you serious?" Jackie asked, her mouth full of toothpaste.

"Jackie, if my hair were on fire, I couldn't be more serious. He told us himself! I really don't think Aaron would lie to me."

"Well, you know him better than I do, Duckie." She spit into the sink as I sat on the chair in the corner of the bathroom. "But even so, you've only known him for a few days; he could very well be lying. If I were you, I would try and get Adam's side of the story before you make up your mind on who to believe."

"Ugh! No freaking way! That would mean I'd have to talk to him! I might just die!"

"But at least you'd die with an open mind."

"Jackie, there's a difference between an open mind and a hole in the head."

"Fine, whatever," she said, wiping her mouth with a towel. "If you won't find out, I will. I'll ask Charlie." She grabbed her cell phone off the vanity and waved it around. "I'll text him right now."

"Don't you dare!" I shouted, grabbing the phone from her and running into our bedroom. "I've had enough turmoil today!" I flopped down on my bed and tossed the phone in the air.

"Come on, give it back! You're gonna break it!"

"Promise not to say anything about you-know-what to Charlie?"

"Okay, I promise." I tossed the phone back to her and crawled under the covers. Jackie turned off her bedside lamp and we both lay on our backs. "Good night."

"Good night, Jax."

We lay in silence for about two minutes before Jackie began talking again. "But seriously, Lizzy…do you like Aaron? I mean, like like?"

"What are you, five years old?"

"You do like him!"

"I'm not listening."

"Lizzy and Aaron, sitting in a tree—"

"That's it." I turned on my side and pulled on my iPod headphones. Despite the soothing sounds of Death Cab for Cutie, I didn't sleep very much that night. Was it true? Did I like Aaron?

Oh my god, I do!

Next time: Dancing the Night Away!

P.S.: I love reviews like a fat kid loves cake. Gimme cake!