The Boy Next Door by Annabelle Costa Read Free Book Online Page A

can’t. . . . Nobody will . . .”
    “Hey,” he said. “Tasha, it’s okay. Geez, I didn’t expect you to set me up. I can get my own dates.”
    I looked at him s keptically .
    “I can,” he insisted. “Really.”
    The truth was, I didn’t believe him. I thought Jason was destined to always be alone because no girl could look beyond his disability, realize how awesome he was, and fall madly in love with him.
    Even, I guess, me.
    But anyway, Jason did manage to prove me wrong. About six months later, he started dating some girl named Rachel. A librarian. The Rachel relationship seemed a little rocky from the start, though, and they broke up a few months later. Then there was Carol. And Ann. And Yvette, the masseuse.
    Prior to Melissa, Jason’s longest relationship was with a girl named Danielle. I know you’re going to say it’s a pattern, but I almost immediately despised Danielle. There were a few reasons for that, all of which I think were very good reasons. Danielle wasn’t terribly pretty, but there was something kind of   perfect   about her. She had this perfect, straight blond hair; perfect, straight white teeth (caps?); a perfect, straight nose (rhinoplasty, I’m pretty sure); and perfect, pert boobs (boob job, I’m positive).
    Jason, while an amazing person, is not perfect. That kind of goes without saying. I think she liked him because he had a great job and made a lot of money, and was very generous, but I don’t think she liked him very much. And that’s why I grew to hate her. I think the first time I really disliked Danielle was when we took a drive down to Coney Island together: her, Jason, me, and my current boyfriend, this Latin type named Mario who was a model/waiter. Jason wanted to stick to the boardwalk, but Danielle was really adamant about wanting to get a great tan. I could see Jason struggling to wheel in the sand, and she just didn’t give a shit.
    When we finally reached a location on the beach that was acceptable to Danielle, she quickly stripped down to her bikini. I have to admit that Danielle had a fantastic body, between the silicon boobs, eating only carrots, and the gym work that left her without an ounce of cellulite. Then again, I have a great body too--even more so back then--and I think my red string bikini gave Danielle’s a run for her money.
    Mario probably was the winner between the three of us, though. When he pulled off his T-shirt, Danielle’s jaw dropped when she saw his bronze Latin body, with the six-pack, the bulging biceps, and the snake tattoos. Yes, my boyfriend was mega hot. You can still see that incredible body in magazine ads.
    Then Jason took his shirt off, which, you know, was a perfectly natural thing to do at the beach and all. But the timing just kind of sucked because Mario had just taken his shirt off and Jason kind of paled in comparison. He paled a lot, actually, both literally and figuratively. Obviously, Jason spent nowhere near as much time with his shirt off as Mario did and didn’t have the advantage of a naturally dark skin tone, so his skin was very white. I’d seen Jason with his shirt off several times so I knew what to expect, and he’d also told me that due to the level of his injury, he had no muscles from about mid-chest down. That’s why he needed a wheelchair with a bit more back support. Anyway, as a result, he had what I guess looked like a beer gut bulging out (despite not being a particularly heavy drinker).
    Jason’s chest wasn’t anything that would cause you to want to lose your lunch or anything. I mean, looking around the beach, there were plenty of not-so-attractive people out there with huge guts and cellulite and whatever. But like I said, Mario had just taken off his shirt.
    “Please, honey,” Danielle said to Jason, shaking her head at him. “Put your shirt back on. Nobody wants to see that.”
    And I could see Jason’s pale skin turn bright red as he quickly obliged and threw his shirt back on over his