Parker fails a class and is forced to take a summer Shakespeare workshop. He's assigned Lexi, a fiery redhead, to get him up to speed on all things Shakespeare.
Between co-directing, her part-time job, and staying in shape for the track team, Lexi...
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Emma Kate once dared me to google a picture of Maddox's parents' multimillion-dollar mansion. While Parker's family didn't appear to be as rich as the Maddox family, his father's house still should have belonged on the cover of a magazine.
The house was a combination of white stone and stunning brown brick. Each window was molded in white and had dark blue shutters to match the roof. Based on the outside, I guessed it had at least four if not more bedrooms, and I could see a pool beyond a perfect picket fence.
We pulled into a massive driveway that could have held a dozen cars, except there was only a BMW parked outside a closed triple garage. The grass was so green I wondered if it was AstroTurf.
Parker didn't seem to hold the same awe I did. He climbed out of his truck and slammed the door with a hard thump. I got down from the cab and gaped up at the picturesque trees and the violets planted in the front flower bed.
We walked up the driveway together. Parker punched a code into the front door, and the lock clicked. Then he led me into the largest house I'd ever been in.
"Lizzie?" Parker removed his shoes and left them on a rack.
"Kitchen, sweetie," chirped a distant voice.
Parker looked mildly alarmed. I took my shoes off quickly and left them beside Parker's Nikes. I followed Parker through a formal living room and back into a massive kitchen. A petite woman in her late twenties stood in front of a chrome-finished microwave waiting on a TV dinner to heat.
She beamed at Parker and raised an eyebrow when she saw me. "Parker, who's our guest?"
"Lizzie, this is Lexi," Parker said. "Lexi, meet Lizzie, my stepmother."
Based on her age, I expected him to introduce her as the housekeeper or babysitter. She was maybe ten years older than Parker. Based on the way that Parker had introduced her with a tone of formality rather than cheer, I supposed that Parker didn't really approve of Lizzie.
"Nice to meet you," I said.
"We're going upstairs to work on my monologue," Parker said.
"Go on right ahead," Lizzie said. "I don't need to ask you to leave any doors open, do I?"
"Lizzie," Parker looked embarrassed. "We'll be using the playroom."
"Sorry, sorry," Lizzie held up her hands. "I'll get out of your way. Snacks are in the cupboard, and there's juice in the fridge."
"Thank you, Lizzie," Parker said, opening a cabinet and pulling out a pack of Oreos and a bag of chips.
Parker pulled two Cokes from the fridge and led me through the massive house and up the stairs into what I guessed had to be the playroom. It was an open area in the center of the floor littered with toy boxes, Legos, and dolls.
A hallway stretched on either side of the playroom leading to what I guessed were bedrooms. The hallway to the right was littered with toys, and daisies were painted on the walls, while the hallway to the left was painted a somber gray.
