The surprised yelp immediately told me where Mary was within the house. I scrambled up the stairs and entered the room of what appeared to be a little girl's in a panic, taking in Mary standing in front of an older woman. She couldn't have been older than her mid-forties, with long, beautiful blonde hair that cascaded down her back like a sheet. Her mouth was agape in surprise, a box filled with toys laid at her feet, the contents spilled out over the floor.

Mary pointed to a plastic horse on the floor near the box, and exclaimed, "I love horsies!"

I surged forward and grabbed Mary's hand, then addressed the woman, attempting to defuse the situation with my lack luster social skills.

"I-I'm really sorry ma'am. Mary didn't mean-"

"Mom? What happened?" Another voice interrupted me- a deep, smooth voice. I looked over my shoulder to see a tall boy around my age with chestnut colored hair, his fringe stopping just above his emerald green eyes. He looked between Mary, the woman, and me with a fast flicker of his eyes. He was like a genetic opposite to me, with tan skin, broad shoulders and lean muscles, and most likely, a functioning brain. A black tank top was the only thing that covered his torso, and there was a darker spot towards his chest where sweat had dampened the dark fabric. This guy really was a sight.

The woman shook her head, eventually coming to terms with the situation, as she kneeled down in front of Mary and smiled.

"Hi there, what's your name?"

Mary gave a gummy smile back, showing her absent front teeth. "Mary."

"Well, hello there. You gave me quite the scare, didn't you?" She then looked at the boy behind me. "It's okay, Ethan. Could you go get Ally?"

I heard the boy leave, but my lips were still parted in surprise at the circumstances that resulted in me standing in some little girl's room, in some stranger's house.

"I have a daughter that I think is around your age. I know she would love to make a new friend," the woman told Mary, whose eyes widened at the prospect of making a friend. I continued to awkwardly stand there with a deer in the headlights look until the woman finally addressed me. "What's your name, young man?"

"Ivan . . . we live in, uh, the house down the street," I muttered, rubbing my forearm in discomfort. Reminding myself of the situation, I kicked myself to continue on with the right thing to say when your little sister trespasses onto someone else's property. "I apologize for Mary. . ."

The woman threw her head back and laughed, a really light, carefree laugh. "Oh don't worry about it sweetie," she waved her hand and continued, "she meant no harm."

"Mom?" A tiny voice questioned behind me. I glanced behind my shoulder once again to see Ethan, only this time he had a little blonde girl around Mary's age by his side.

"Honey, this is Mary, and she likes horses just like you!" The mother beckoned her daughter over, introducing the two girls. I slowly inched out of the room, unsure exactly what to do. It was my responsibility to watch after Mary for Mrs. Clarissa, after all. The mother in the middle of the room must have sensed my hesitation, and reassured me that she could watch the two girls as they got to know each other. I gave her Mrs. Clarissa's phone number just to be sure, and then exited the room.

"Hey," the smooth and calculated voice of Ethan sounded from behind me in the hallway, and I turned around to face him. Standing in front of him, I realized just how tall he was, and I immediately felt my mouth go dry. "Are you busy the rest of the day?"

"Um. . . well, I-" I began, before cutting myself off. I was going to make up some excuse, some nonexistent chore to use as an unfortunate reason to explain why I couldn't hangout with this guy. I paused though, Mrs. Clarissa's words echoing in my head, and the words came tumbling out of my mouth before I could regret them. "No, I'm not," I said, shaking my head.

"Oh, awesome. I just moved here, as you now know," he chuckled warmly. "I would be really thankful if you could show me around town a bit? I could use a friend since I'm the new kid and all."

My primitive response was again to decline, the itch still there to back out and let the possibility of a connection rot away into nothing, but it was extremely difficult to say no to Ethan's soft green eyes.

"Um, sure, no problem," I ended up saying in response, already preparing myself for the embarrassment and awkwardness that was to come.

"What's your name?" The tall boy asked me as he led me down the stairs. He walked over to the front door and pulled it open, holding it for me to walk through.

"Ivan," I replied shyly.

"Pleasure to meet you, Ivan."

~

"How far away is Seattle from here?"

"Oh, uh. . . about half an hour?" I replied, but my response sounded more like a question.

"Sweet. I've never been to Seattle. What's it like?" Ethan asked. We were currently walking down the sidewalk of the local town, a frequent route of mine.

I furrowed my eyebrows thoughtfully. "It's different I guess. Lots of dispensaries and smoke shops if that's the sort of thing you like."

Ethan just laughed, "not so much, what else?"

"When you look at the city from a distance, it just looks like every other urban area, with the high-rise buildings and big construction cranes, but when you actually walk around on the streets, you're surrounded by culture. That's what I like about it."

"What do you mean by that?" Ethan asked, confused, but interested.

"There's a lot small businesses and farmers markets, you know, people just trying to make a living doing what they love. There's usually a band playing somewhere, and street performers are always around. It's a really nice place."

I was looking ahead as Ethan and I walked, a smile on my face. I always had fond memories of Seattle, everyone and everything was unique, and people just accepted that. I glanced over at Ethan for a split second, only to find him staring intently at the side of my face. I blushed and averted my focus back in front of me, and I was somewhat embarrassed I had expressed my feelings that much to someone I just met an hour ago. Ethan was a very charismatic and genuine person, I guess he's just an easy person to talk to.

"Where did you move from?" I asked to cut the tension.

"Boulder, Colorado. You know, when we first arrived here in Washington, this was not the type of weather I was expecting," he said, tilting his face up towards the bright sun.

"What were you expecting?" I asked, looking up at Ethan's handsome features.

"Dark, kind've gloomy. Raining most likely. You know, like in Twilight."

"It's August."

Ethan laughed again, his pearly white teeth on display. "I know! I know!" He exclaimed. "It just, the movies always show Washington as overcast and constantly raining, so sue me, but- it's bloody hot out now!"

I smiled at Ethan's antics, looking down at my dirty converse.

"Well, I guess it isn't this sunny all the time, going off of your complexion," he mused.

"My complexion? Why? Because it's pale?" I snorted.

"Your skin isn't pale, it's porcelain. And it's beautiful," Ethan responded, a very serious look on his face.

I opened my mouth to respond, but closed it again. How does someone respond to something like that? Ethan must have sensed the weird atmosphere between us, and quickly changed to another subject.

"How good is that ice cream shop right there?"

~

The sun had begun to set behind Ethan and I as we made our way back home. We continued to talk about random things, getting to know each other in the process. I was still in awe with how easily Ethan got me to open up, and I wasn't really sure of how I felt about that.

"That's my house right there," I said, pointing next to the house we were currently walking past. Ethan nodded, and we continued to walk until we stopped in front of my house.

"Hey, Ivan, are you free tomorrow?" Ethan asked, his emerald eyes sparked with curiosity.

"I mean. . . yeah," I chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of my neck and toeing at a crack in the sidewalk with my Converse. Ethan grinned.

"Nice! There's a record shop around here I wanted to check out, and I would be lost without my tour guide," he winked, which made my cheeks go warm. "Is ten a good time for me to come over?"

I looked up at Ethan in awe. He was asking to hang out. With me. I realized then that I still hadn't answered Ethan's question, so I shook my head a little to clear my thoughts and responded with a sheepish "yeah".

"Cool. I had fun today, Ivan. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, Ethan gave me one last smile and a wave before he continued down the street towards his house.

I stood on the sidewalk for a second longer to give my mind a moment to stop whirring with thoughts so I could walk up my porch and enter my house.

Once I had finally pulled the front door closed behind me, I noticed Mrs. Clarissa sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of her, as she fanned her face dramatically.

"Oh lord, Ivan. Where on Earth did you manage to find a boy like that," she grinned as my cheeks began to burn, and I booked it up to my room in embarrassment, knowing I'm never going to hear the end of it from her.

~

"Morning, sunshine. I heard from Mary that she made a friend yesterday, and I see you have as well," Mrs. Clarissa winked at me, and I simply rolled my eyes as she dished up breakfast for Mary and Benji at the table. Mrs. Clarissa had some old Motown songs playing from the radio in the kitchen, and Mary was chattering in excitement about her new friend, Ally.

"I know Mary Lou, that's so exciting! I'm so proud of the progress you've made," Mrs. Clarissa beamed, sliding a glass of orange juice towards me. I sat down at the table with a smile on my face, watching Benji brush his fingers through his tangle-free hair over and over again.

"Ivan, since when were you one to be dressed at nine in the morning?" Mrs. Clarissa asked, her thin eyebrow raised in question. I hid my grin by looking down at the table, and replied:

"Ethan is picking me up at ten. We're going to the record shop in town."

Benji began smacking the table with his palms and making half-assed cat whistles. "Ivan has it so bad!"

"Shut up Benji!" I shrieked. "I met him yesterday! He's my friend!"

"Benji eat your cereal, stop bugging your brother," Mrs. Clarissa ordered, pushing Benji's bowl closer to him. I sighed in relief, now that the spotlight was no longer on me. Everyone's usual antics continued to ensue at the table, but I had developed a habit of glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall every few minutes. It seemed like time was never actually moving at all; but at a quarter to ten, I gave up watching the clock and decided to just wait for Ethan outside.

"Bye guys! See you later-" I called behind my shoulder as I rushed to the front door.

"Ivan! Your phone!" I heard Mrs. Clarissa shout from behind me. Just as I turned around, I saw my relic of an iPhone that was once Mrs. Clarissa's come flying towards my face. With catlike reflexes, I caught it and yelled my thanks back to her.

It was already a warm morning, and suddenly I was regretting wearing my usual attire of a grey t-shirt, cuffed jeans, and my dirty black converse. With a sigh, I sat on the porch steps and waited for Ethan. I was in the middle of watching a ladybug on the leaf of a nearby bush, when I noticed a smooth, black Chevrolet pull up to the front of my house. It wasn't exactly new, but it looked damn good.

As I stood up, I saw Ethan come around from the drivers side and waved, pulling open the passenger door for me.

"Uh- Oh, thank you," I stumbled, taken aback a bit by the kind gesture. Ethan beamed and nodded, before closing the door and moving back around to the driver's side. He was absolutely radiating with excitement, and it really was an interesting thing to see. He was wearing a dark tank top and khaki shorts like he was yesterday, and I smelled something woodsy wafting from him- almost like pine trees. Was he wearing cologne? That's new.

"So, Ivan. What kind of music do you like?" He asked, glancing at me as he pulled away from the curb and continued down the road.

"Uh, I don't think I really listen to music that often to know," I said, watching the scenery pass outside the window.

"Seriously? You don't listen to music? How the hell do you keep your head on straight?" Ethan spluttered.

I made some snide remark in my mind that drugs are the things that keep my head on straight, but I simply shrugged instead. "Well, that means I have a clean slate to influence," Ethan grinned, reaching over and turning his car stereo on. "I'll start with songs easier on the ears," he snickered.

The song that had begun to flood through the speakers was, no doubt, really nice. It had a good rhythm, the bass was something you could groove to, and I think I liked it.

"Who is this?" I asked, moving my head a bit to the beat.

"Redbone's 'Come and Get Your Love'. You like it?"

Ethan must have taken my smile and movements along with the beat as confirmation, because he let the song play on, and contributed his own body movements to the beat.

~

"That's terrifying," I stated dryly, looking at the heavy metal album Ethan was holding up to my face.

"It is, isn't it? I don't really like heavy metal, but some do I suppose."

I hummed, flicking through some of the vinyl albums the store had. I had no idea what I was even looking at, but I was satisfied with just looking at the album art and listening to Ethan ramble excitedly about different bands.

"We had to drive half an hour to get to the nearest record shop back in Colorado. People really enjoy music here don't they?"

"I guess they do. . . " I trailed off, examining an album that I actually recognized. "I think I've heard of this group before," I said, pulling out one of the vinyls. Ethan looked over in interest, nodding along.

"You probably have. Lots of people like Pink Floyd."

"Do you?"

Ethan made a face, one that said he wasn't too big of a fan of them, and then he went on to confirm my assumption.

"Not really my style. I will admit though, their rock opera 'The Wall' is pretty cool. I mean we're talking about a rockstar losing his mind and thinking he's a Nazi. The concept is wicked, no other rock opera tops it, really."

I laughed a little at that, thinking about how ludicrous that really sounded, but art is art I guess, and I put the album back.

Eventually Ethan and I had ended up back in his car, now with a couple of new vinyls and some CDs. A new song had begun to blast through the speakers when Ethan had turned on the car, and it was just as upbeat as the last one. Different, but I liked this one as well.

"Who is this?"

"The Who."

"The band playing this song."

Ethan burst out into a fit of laughter, eventually being a hand up to wipe at the tears in his eyes.

"Oh my God that was adorable. The band is called 'The Who'."

I looked down at my lap and blushed in embarrassment, but Ethan assured me he wasn't trying to mock me, and I began to laugh along with him.

"So what's the high school like around here? I need to see what I'm up against," Ethan chuckles, turning the music down a notch. I shrugged.

"It's really not anything special. It's got good people, shitty people, and mediocre teachers. You'll fit right in," I smile at him reassuringly.

He smirked, and looked at me from the corner of his eye. "The school doesn't matter as much to me, after all, this is my senior year. I just want an opportunity to be. . . I don't know, different," he sighed, sounding wistful.

"Different?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Back in Colorado, I was that jocky kid who played football and went to lots of parties, and I guess it was fun back then. Now I just want something with more meaning, because life is so much more than football and making bad decisions at two in the morning," Ethan chuckled a bit at the end, trying to keep this absurdly random confession light-hearted. "I just want to grow up a little, you know?"

I stared through the front windshield, watching the dry evergreen trees whip past us. Hating the awkward silence that ensued, I decided to speak up and attempt some words of wisdom of my own.

"What was it like, though? Just. . . being a teenager?"

Ethan looked at me confused, before focusing back on the road. "Exciting, I guess. Wouldn't you know the answer to that, Ivan?"

Chewing on the inside of my lip, I hummed a sound of acknowledgement, but not necessarily of agreement.

I was forced to grow up far too soon because of my illness, and I guess I never really got over that feeling of bitterness, of never being able to just be a snotty teenager. It was like I had to be my own parent starting at ten years old. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to get over this feeling that my entire childhood had just slipped through my fingers like sand.

~

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