Forget my mum. What about me, Stacy?

I hear a splash from my backyard and lift my magazine off my face with a groan. To my great dissatisfaction at the same time I groaned my heart also started beating really fast.

Oh my God. I totally suck.

I dump my magazine on the floor and go out through to the slide door. Or should I say, I trip through it, the flyscreen falling down and me with it. I hear a howl of laughter and scowl into the grass sticking up through the flyscreen and up my nostrils.

Damien Blake. He'd been coming over to my house since the day he hit thirteen and hadn't left me, or my mum for that matter, alone. Especially my mum – my mum's the reason he's here, why he comes. He's totally in love with her and is deluded that some day (and some day soon) my mum's going to leave my dad for him.

"Stacy, oh my God, Stacy," he laughs, gasping for breath as he splashes around in my pool. He laughs some more before saying what he has to say, "Stacy you're such a klutz."

That's it. He did not. He can't have just called me klutz. He did not.

I stand to my feet and stomp over to the pool edge and kick some water at his guffawing face. I glare and cross my arms, "Damien Blake get out of my pool."

"It's your mums pool," he says with a grin, brushing the water I'd splashed at him from his face and then continuing to float around in my pool on my pink float bed. Though what he says is true, it's not just my Mum's. It's my dad's, too. I highly doubt he'd appreciate a boy pining over his wife in the vicinity, let alone his pool. Then again – he'd probably just laugh at it. So would mum.

"She said I can come over whenever I want." He tells me with that same grin, yawning and stretching his arms back behind his head.

But my parent's didn't even have to deal with him most of the time – I had to.

"You're on my floatie, she didn't give you power over my floatie." I point out, glaring at him. He rolls his eyes and paddles around. "Besides," I stick my hands on my hips and give him a look, "my parents, and my mum, aren't here. So –"

"They're not here?" he says with interest, perking up. I blink at him.

I decide to ignore his question, because um. I already gave him his answer before he asked it. "So I'm in charge – and you, well you have to go about now."

I stand there, tapping my foot on the cement impatiently. There's really no reason for him to be over here, anyway. Not while my mum's not here. He just looks up at me from down on my pink float bed and smiles. I don't even notice he's gotten closer until he hooks a finger around my leg and I topple forwards out of shock.

I face plant into his stomach and then follow the rest of my body into the water beside him. The water is nice, to say the least – but what isn't nice is the way I entered it. I emerge, glaring, spluttering and spitting out water.

"You...you..." I clench my fists in the water. I can't seem to find a word to describe how horrible that boy is, and it's even worse...because I'm totally, irrevocably in love with him.

"Hot piece of meat?" he offers from my pink float bed, his arms back behind his head but not for long. He hooks one of his fingers, and beckons for me, "Come here," he says in a seductive kind of way.

"Oh for crying out loud," I groan and start towards the steps of the pool. It's not enough that he's in love with my mum, and that I'm in love with him. I hate him. I totally hate him. Oh my God, why am I even in love with him? He's such a jerk...he's so...so annoying!

"Hey, hey, hey," he calls after me and is in such a rush to paddle over to me that he falls off my pink float bed and back into the water. "Come on, I'm just kidding, and it's only a bit of water."

I climb up the steps and start heading quickly towards my house, picking up the flyscreen door as I go, "He's so lucky I was already wearing swimming clothes," I mutter to myself about to go back in but he catches my hand and pulls me to a stop.

"Hey Stace," he pleads and I frown at the door. He can't plead with me like that; he doesn't even know what it does to me. "Stacy, please." He says again, and at the corner of my eye I catch his pout. I sigh inwardly. He's already got me, whatever he wants to do. I'll probably let him. "Please, Stacy,"

"What do you want?" I say, dropping the flyscreen and turning to him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Oh," he says with a shrug and a grin, he opens his mouth, shuts it, and then opens it again. "Just want to know where your mum's at?"

I stare at him. I suppose I'd been hoping he was wanting something else. But no, he just wants to know where my mum is, why she's not here – when she'll be back. I can't really blame him, actually. My mum's a pretty girl, prettier than me.

Which really isn't hard. I mean, I've got a pretty short hair cut.

"Oh, bug off Blake," I say scathingly as I attempt to put the flyscreen back on to no avail. Why did he have to like my mum...why couldn't he like me, instead? I shook the flyscreen with annoyance, "Oh come on!"

"Give it here," Damien rolls his eyes and takes the flyscreen door off me, fixing it easily back into place and clapping his hands, "and that's how it's done."

"Thanks," I say curtly and walk inside, but not before he can walk in right after me. I grimace. Didn't he hear me say that my mum's out? I go over and sit back on the couch, picking up my magazine and beginning to read. Damien sits on the carpet in front of me and starts playing on the playstation.

I look down at him. "What's the point? You're totally bad at it." I say truthfully, seeing as I'm the one who's good at the games, not him.

He switches it off and glares at me pointedly, "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Go home? Mum's not here for you to perv on." I say, and return back to reading my magazine and grimacing at the watermarks my wet hands had gotten all over it.

"You know I love your mum but..." his gaze is intent on mine, although mine is on the magazine. "I've thought of something."

"Oh?" I say, not sounding very interested at all. Because I'm not really. If it's anything he's interested in, usually I don't want to know about it.

Next thing I know I'm being crushed against the couch, "You're squashing my magazine," I cry out and it's flung across the room; his lips on mine, moving against mine.

It's nice. It's so nice. But he's only kissing me because I'm second-best, I'm her daughter; he doesn't like me, he likes her. He can't have her, so he's settling for me. I don't want to be 'settled' for. I want to be wanted. I want to be wanted most.

He opens his mouth and kisses me more vigorously. But by now I've turned to stone, alas, I can't kiss someone who doesn't really want to be kissing me. Even if it's very enjoyable; I'm already in too deep to let myself fall too much deeper. I'll lose it. I'll drown.

He makes an aggravated noise from the back of his throat and rips his lips from mine, "What's the problem, you were kissing me back before?"

"Damien, I'm not her." I point out to him, crossing my arms defensively over myself

"What are you talking about?" he sputters.

I shove him off and go over to get my magazine again, "You threw it across the room, Damien. That wasn't very nice of you."

"I don't really give a damn," he says harshly, "what were you talking about? Who's her?"

I walk about the house, magazine in hand, and though he doesn't know it...towards the backyard slide door so I can push him out, making sure the flyscreen doesn't fall off this time.

"Who's her?" he repeats impatiently as we approach the slide door.

I push him out and shake my head at him, "My mum, don't go confusing the two." I slide the doors shut and lock them. He blinks, furiously, and then begins pounding on them.

"Come on, Stacy, lets talk," he argues, still beating his hands on the glass. I glare at him, he doesn't have to go all ape on the glass; he might break it, and I'll be in big trouble.

"Stop banging on the glass you'll break it and my mum will hate you." I point out, and he stops. Of course he stops – wouldn't want that, my mum hating him and all...although she totally wouldn't, but he doesn't know that.

"Stacy," he uses that pleading tone with me again and I roll my eyes.

"Not going to work, Dame," I tell him, crossing my arms and arching an eyebrow at him.

"I'm going to go swim in the pool all night if I have to, waiting till you come let me in." He threatens, also crossing his arms.

"You wouldn't dare." I hiss, narrowing my eyes at him. He can't stay out there, and he knows it. He especially can't stay out there all night, swimming in the pool. I can't let him. He'll get sick. Worry starts to fill me, he's got to be bluffing – he's not stupid.

"Oh I think we both know I would," he tells me, giving me a look.

"Fine! Catch a cold – see if I care." I spin around and walk off into the house. I don't look back, because if I did I'd cave. You know what they say about puppy eyes – completely and totally irresistible.

Just like him.

"Honey, would you pass the sugar?" my mum says the next morning, "and why was your little friend out on the lawn? He got hit right on the head when the paper boy came past a half hour ago."

Oh no. He really has camped out there all night, like he said.

"What do you mean was?" I want to know, passing over the sugar.

She nods her thanks with a sweet smile, "Oh, because I let him in darling. Sweet pea do you know where I left my magazine? The one I left on the couch yesterday?" she asks my father.

Oh no. He's inside the house. He's inside these very walls, lurking, waiting to pounce on me at any moment.

"I don't know honey, do you know where it is Stacy?" my dad wants to know.

"Yeah, it's in my room," I get up from my seat and looking around everywhere. If he's inside, where is he? He can be anywhere. I'm going to have to be wary. "I'll be back in a second."

I tiptoe through the halls, sticking my head out discreetly at corners.

Target: Room.

Status: Spotted.

Nemesis: Nowhere to be found.

My room is in sight, only a few more metres and I'm there – touch wood. I'm safe from his clutches so far, let's just hope it stays that way.

One metre.

I scramble into my room and pump my fist in the air, magazine in hand. Victory!

Nemesis: falls from and out of the roof headfirst and collides with the carpet.

"Ah!" I say, and drop the magazine in shock.

"That did not go the way I planned, oh man," Damien grumbles into the carpet, and I notice he's bleeding. He'd landed on my nail file! Oh my God. "Sorry for bleeding on your carpet Stacy."

"Shut up!" I tell him and kneel down beside him, taking his head in my hands and brushing at the blood with a thumb. I eye him worriedly, "Are you okay? Do you want me to go get my mum?"

I'm already up and scrambling to go get her for him – after all, she's the one he wants in his time of need. Not me. But he loops an arm around my ankle and I stumble, looking back to him in confusion. "What?"

"Stacy," he mumbles, pressing his face into my calf. Heat runs up me at his proximity. I shiver and he feels it and smiles into my leg. "Stacy can't you see, you're just the girl for me – I know it's different in the song but, I'm not in love with your mum."

"I think I really need to go get my mum." I say, staring down at him with wide eyes. I jiggle my leg around, trying to loosen his grip but it doesn't work. He holds on tighter and with both arms. "You're going to make me trip."

"I'll catch you." He tells me. "I'll catch you Stacy, don't be afraid to fall."

For some reason I get the picture he's not really talking about me falling over. More about me falling for someone, rather than falling over something – his hands.

"You've hit your head way too hard." I tell him. "Let me go!"

"Sta-ccyy!" he groans and gets to his feet, letting go of my leg and taking hold of my hands. "You know I had this all planned out – I was going to come land gracefully out of the roof at your feet like a superhero, and sweep you into my arms and kiss you and live happily ever after."

"Let go of my hands, you're insane," I tell him, turning bright red. What can he be thinking? Jumping out of my roof like some kind of monster and hitting his head on a nail file. Sweep me off my feet, my ass. He wanted to scare me, not seduce me,

"I love you Stacy." He admits with a sheepish grin. But he's lying. I know he's lying. Nonetheless, at the sound of those words, my heart starts beating really fast.

"You're mental, do you want some Panadol?" I want to know, rolling my eyes at his false admission and trying to tug my hands out of his.

He squeezes my hands, and takes one and holds it to his chest. "Feel it. Feel how fast it's beating. Beating for you."

I try to rip my hand away but he keeps my hand firmly there until I relax. I sigh – and then I feel it, it is beating fast. I gasp and look up at him, he's so tall. Too tall. I remember back when he first came over, he was a little shrimp compared to now. He smiles at me, and then presses my hand to his cheek, "See, I've always liked you, not your mum, Stacy."

He leans down and gently plants his lips on mine. My eyes flutter closed and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling myself up more to his level and stepping on tiptoes once more. Though this time, not for sneaking purposes.

His hands weave through my hair and this kiss is much slower than the one the day before, and this time I don't stop when he deepens it all. "Can we live happily ever after?" He breaks from kissing to whisper in my ear.

I take one of his hands, "Oh, I'm not afraid to fall. Besides, you'll be there to catch me won't you?"

"Of course." He promises being uncharacteristically sweet to me for once.

"Then let's go fix you up," I brush a hand over his forehead and, still holding his hand, start leading him out of the room to do just that.

"Really, who wants Stacy's mum when they can have Stacy!"

Indeed.

The magazine lay forgotten on the floor of my bedroom.

My brother's coming to visit in just two weeks and a bit! I can't wait. I loves my brother and miss him so much. Talking to him always makes me smile, no matter what kind of mood I'm in! And NO ONE can do that. No one but him!

Hope you liked that milf! Lol. Not really.

You know you love trees, xoxo.