I am jolted awake when my bedroom door bangs open. Groaning, I turn and see my brother standing in the door frame, his board shoulders filling the narrow space.

"Bree, I'm leaving in ten, with or without," he says.

I flop back onto my bed as he spins around and walks back to his room. For a minute I mentally urge myself to wake up, but make no progress other than shifting slightly. The sharp sound of an incessant beeping burns away the last of my grogginess. I toss aside my comforter, causing the book, I had fallen sleeping reading, to tumble to the floor. It joins the numerous stacks of books that already lay there. 

Sitting up, I look around, searching for the source of the annoying sound. I climb out of my bed, the large t-shirt I sleep in dropping to cover the top half of my thin thighs. Books, clothes and blankets fly around the room as I try to find the object that is letting loose the never ending beeping. Eventually my search leads me to my balcony.

Across the way is a house identical to my own, my neighbor's balcony a few feet from mine. The doors are open and I spot the beeping source, a phone on the night stand. Asleep in the bed is Tyler, his muscular bare chest sticking out of the blankets. His head is turned to the side, his brown curly hair draped over his forehead.

Turning away, I kick aside a blanket and pick up the hacky sack I had spotted seconds before. I brush my wild, blonde away from my face and focus on my target. Biting my lower lip in concentration I hurl the hacky sack at my sleeping neighbor. It hits Tyler's chest and bounces onto the bed. Tyler stirs, his handsome face crouching up in confusion as he pulls himself from sleep. He rubs his eyes and looks over, spotting me standing on my balcony.

"Did you just throw a ball at me?" he asks, his voice raspy with the last bits of sleep.

"No," I say, "a hacky sack. Turn your dang alarm off."

Tyler sits up, the blankets falling away to reveal a toned body and the top of a pair of boxers. Climbing out of his bed, he shuts off the alarm, then looks at me.

"You sure you didn't just do that to see me shirtless?" he asks. 

I roll my eyes and turn away.

"Put on a shirt," I call back.

"Hey Bree," he says.

I glance back to find him leaning on the door frame of his balcony, his eyes scanning my bare legs and worn Metallica sleep shirt.

"You look good with hardly any clothes on," he says.

I step into my door and slam the balcony doors shut. Tyler laughs, the sound warm as a summer night by a bonfire. I hear the sound of an engine and curse. I rush across my chaotic room, heading for the closet but trip on a pile of books hidden beneath my comforter. I go crashing to the floor, arms and legs failing. Hurriedly untangling myself from the blanket, I get up and go to my closet.

A few harassed minutes later, I'm dressed and stuffing my notebooks and binders in my backpack. I run to the window but see the driveway is free of my brother's car. Letting out a string of curses, I sling my backpack on and walk out of my room. On the stairs I stop at the sound of harsh voices. My stomach clutches and I grip the railing.

"James, we need to talk about this!" my mother says.

"Tess this is not the time and you know it!" my father snaps back.

I slowly edge my way down the stairs, not looking at the frames that dot the wall. Frames holding smiles and the after effects of laughter. Trying to ignore the fire behind each word and the snap to every cutting remark, I slip out of the front door. The empty driveway is still waiting for me. I trudge down the steps and move to the sidewalk. The distance does nothing to lessen the volume of the argument, each back biting retort is still clear to hear. A door slams closed and I turn. Tyler jumps off his front porch, a helmet gripped in one hand. When he notices me, he walks over. A few feet away, he tosses me the hacky sack.

"Here," he says.

I catch it and roll it around in my hands.

"Can't you find someway of waking up to your alarm?" I say.

"You seem to work pretty well."

I let out an annoyed huff.

"Why can't you get the bimbo that's in your bed to wake you up?" I ask.

Tyler barks out a laugh.

"They don't stay till morning," he says.

"How classy of you," I say. "It explains how the girls are constantly making an appearance in your bedroom."

Tyler smirks, the look accenting his dimples and making his green eyes light up with a mischievous glint.

"They don't come because of my class. They come for my-"

I hold up a hand. "Please spare me from your crude poetry."

Tyler winks and I roll my eyes. In the silence between us the argument of my parents slips out through windows and under the door. I turn away from Tyler and stare down at the ground, focusing on a tuff of grass sticking out from between the sidewalk.

"Where's your bother?" he asks.

I make a face.

"He left without me," I say. "My mom could give me a ride but..."

I scruff my red converse shoes on the concrete, messing with the thin green blades.

"You want me to give you a ride?" he asks.

I look up at him, my blue eyes meeting his.

"Are you referring to your motorcycle?" I ask.

He smirks, the look playful.

"Yes, I'm referring to my motorcycle. But the other option is always available."

"Gross, I would rather die."

"They say death is the next big adventure."

I scowl and he laughs, holding out his helmet. I take it and pull it on.

"Would you look at that," he says, cocking his head, "it looks better on you."

I shake my head in amusement and we walk over to his bike. He climbs on and starts the engine. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I slip onto the back. He revs the engine and I drop my hands to my knees. Tyler looks back. Reaching behind him, he takes my hands, making me jump in surprise. He puts them around his waist.

"Safety first," he says.

"Sure."

Tyler turns his head to me, the playful look gone from his expression.

"Family sucks, Bree," he says.

He faces front and pops the kick stand as I fight back a smile.

*************

What's up!

So totally not my style at all, right?? Well, I wrote this first chapter on a whim. I saw so many story titles with the bad boy in them and wondered what story I would write if I took that same kind of concept. So this is what I got!

It should be known that I will never write this story, it was purely for the fun of it and I thought I would share it with you. Also I never write first person present. I just can't, it doesn't come naturally and I find it awkward to write. Props to those who can. So anyways this is what it is and I hope you enjoyed the more teen fiction side of my writing.

Vote, comment, follow! Who doesn't want a hot, shirtless, bad boy living next door?!