The girl in front of Tara might have passed for cute, had her looks not been diminished by the fact that she hadn’t grown into her features, and, the fact that she currently looked like a half drowned puppy dripping out on the Brooks family garage floor.

Chrissy gave a thin smile and added a pleading pair of eyes, that very much complemented the puppy-simile, before sense reared its head inside Tara’s.

“You want a towel?”

Chrissy nodded.

“Wait here. Mom’ll kill me if I let you get the carpet wet.”

Tara rushed inside the house, through the sully, leaving Chrissy briefly alone in the garage.

She returned with several towels to find Chrissy had helped herself to a bouncy ball, which had been in a large bucket that Tara and brothers had filled with the balls for years, much to the annoyance of their mother.

‘you have fifty of the things, why do you need another?’ was a common phrase, with the number growing exponentially with each new ball.

...The siren call of the vending machine was just too strong to resist.

The brightly colored tie-dye ball bounced rhythmically against the concrete.

Plnk, plnk, plnk.

“Oh,” Chrissy said when she saw Tara approach, trying to catch the ball mid bounce. She failed to grasp the ball, hitting it away and turning it into an unguided projectile instead. It bounced off her hand, then to the floor, found its way through the frame of Tara’s bike, then bounced off again. Tara followed it with her eyes.

plnk, plnk, plnk.

It took trajectory towards her brother’s motorcycle, mercifully missed it, then finally found its way to its final route, which ended, unfortunately, just above Tara’s eye, from where it landed neatly on the towels she was still holding.

It took a second for her to register what happened, then simply mumbled to herself, ‘ouch.’

“Oh!,” Chrissy said, her face falling, “I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?”

“It’s fine,” Tara mumbled, not finding it in her heart to stay angry with the girl, looking as she did. She put the bouncy ball in the pocket of her shorts, then held out a towel for Chrissy.

Nervously, she took it and when she was sure there was no retaliation coming for the bouncy ball incident, ran it through her hair. Tara frowned as the girl apparently had forgotten she had her sunglasses in it, sending the shades clattering to the floor.

Tara shook her head as she ran a towel through her own hair, then frowned at the house across the street , as far as she could see it through the inclement weather.

“Forgot your keys?” she tried.

Chrissy sighed and explained to Tara how she had gone out for a walk, then lost her way and latched to the only thing that seemed familiar.

“...I’m staying with my grandpa,” she concluded the story.

“Oh. What’s his name? Maybe I know where he lives…”

Chrissy blinked. She’d never considered her grandfather’s surname. He was simply ‘grandpa’.

“He lives on a farm,” she said lamely, “Not far from here, I think. He has a donkey and a llama…”

“And a zebra?”

“You know him! Can you tell how to get there? I’ll be out of your hair.”

Tara looked at Chrissy, then outside. The rain seemed to have gotten worse.

Chrissy followed her eyes, put her hands behind her back and tried another pair of puppy eyes.

“...can I borrow an umbrella?”

Tara arched her brows, “Are you nuts? We’ll wait for somebody to get home and they can give you a ride back to the farm.”

“Oh, thanks! ...I’ll try not to get in the way. I can wait in the garage if you want…?”

Tara shook her head, even though she wasn’t allowed to have guests over without permission, she was sure that in this case her parents would be fine with it.

“Come on in. I’ll get you a drink and we can… I don’t know, watch TV or something.”

Chrissy sighed in relief and followed Tara inside the house.

Having provided both herself and Chrissy with a drink, Tara led the girl into the living room. Chrissy sheepishly followed, unsure how to act in the strange house, then walked into Tara’s back when the other girl suddenly stopped moving.

“Mom? You’re here!”

Mrs Brooks up from the TV show she’d been watching, “Oh. Tara… Who’s your friend?”

“Not my friend…”

“Yet, I hope…” Chrissy mumbled to herself.

“She’s lost and needs a ride to the Hobbs farm, but… where’s your car?”

“You didn’t hear? It broke down. Took a cab home…”

It suddenly occurred to Tara that the car hadn’t been there when she left for her bike ride either.

“And where’s dad?”

“Bringing back the station wagon he borrowed. Told him to wait till tomorrow, but he insisted…Now, what was that about needing a ride. Oh, you’re the new neighbor aren’t you?”

Chrissy, hadn’t noticed, she was staring at the TV, trying to understand what Mrs Brooks was watching.

“Christina, right? … Christina?”

“Oh, yeah!” Chrissy responded, snapping back to reality, “Christina Brigman… That’s me.”

“Chrissy for friends, I remember. So, have to get you back to the Hobbs farm?”

“My grandfather’s place, yes… I hope they’re not too worried about me…”

“I’ll call Mister Hobbs. Maybe Sawyer’s still there…”

“I think Christina wants to get there alive,” Tara grinned, then gestured to the couch, “Just… Help yourself to a seat.”

“Don’t change the channel!” Mrs Brooks called over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen to get the phone.

Chrissy sat down, slightly nervously, at the edge of a couch that would have seated seven more people comfortably. She glanced at the TV every now and again, barely registering the commercials, then to Tara, hoping the other girl would start the conversation.

“So…” Tara, who wasn’t that interested in the television, said, “Where are you from?”

“Delaware…”

“Delaware,” Tara echoed. She didn’t know the first thing about the state, not even the capital, so with nothing else to say, she simply added, “Cool.”

“Kinda boring,” was Chrissy’s response…”

“Then at least you’ll fit right in,” Tara giggled.

“Nothing to do here? I know what that’s like, but I like to read, so it’s okay. Do you read?”

Tara nodded and Chrissy’s eyes lit up, “Read anything good lately?”

“Lord of the rings,” Tara listed, omitting that she read it several times over the summer, “Ivanhoe, The Hobbit… I think I want to read Mists of Avalon next.”

“I hear Mists is good,” Chrissy said in approval, “And the others are classics, but have you read Dracula … Or Interview with the vampire?”

Tara noticed that the girl’s eyes had widened in excitement, as if she were sure to have found a kindred soul. Tara meanwhile only saw vampires as enemies for her heroes to defeat. She was about to say she didn’t like vampire novels, but she also didn’t want to stomp on Chrissy’s excitement…

“They’re on the list…” she said lamely.

“You can borrow them if you want!”

“That’s okay. I’m still in the middle of something…”

“Oh, but Interview is really good, because…”

Much to Tara’s relief, Chrissy never got to tell the reason as Mrs Brooks yelled at them from the kitchen.

“Christina! Your mom’s on the way to pick you up! Do you want a cookie or some chips while you wait?”

The answer to this question very much interested Tara, who tried to make it look like she wasn’t staring at Chrissy.

“I’m good, ma’am! Thank you!”

Tara barely managed to hold her sigh of relief back. She knew there were still twelve cookies left. The good ones, that Mrs Summers had baked before she left for California. There would never be new ones… Glad she wouldn’t have to shared the cookies with the new girl, Tara turned her attention to the television. The commercials were just over and she hoped her mother had chosen something good. To her chagrin, it turned out to be a documentary on vaccines against hepatitis B.

She sighed and got up, “Enjoy your dull show, mom. I’m going to my room…”

Chrissy gave Tara a pleading look, not wanting to be stuck watching a boring documentary.

Tara considered for a moment, then relented. Her A’rat stuff was hidden well enough, that she wouldn’t have to deal with teasing from the new girl.

She relented, “You want to come up?”

Chrissy got of her seat and was out of the room faster than Tara had expected. She led her up the stairs.