Chapter 1
James
Rocky Hayward slaps my back playfully as I run into the locker room after practice. “Nice work today, Walker. See you tomorrow at school.” I smile widely and nod. “Yep! See you then, Hayward!” He takes his bag and walks out, leaving me alone in the locker room yet again.
I’m usually the last to leave, as I like to make sure everyone is able to get home first. I go ahead and pack my belongings and head to my car, piling my stuff in the back. The drive home is quiet and peaceful after a draining practice.
When I pull into my driveway, I see cars in the driveway of the house to my right. Is someone moving in? I take the keys out of the ignition and hop out, pulling my bag with me and slinging it over my shoulders. A movement catches my eye, and I watch as a blonde guy carries boxes into the house. He’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, but it’s fairly warm out.
Someone is moving in. I should go over and offer some help. I throw my bag to the ground and wander into their yard, waving happily at the boy setting down boxes. He looks up at me, pushing his glasses back and running a hand through his light, golden hair. His lips twitch, and he stares at me for a moment.
“Can I help you?” He asks, crossing his arm, and I flush. I’ve been standing here like an idiot. “Oh, sorry. I live right here,” I point to my house. “Looks like we’re neighbors!” I laugh, and he glances at me and my house. “Cool. See you around.” He bends to pick up another box, and I step before him.
“I wanted to offer my help. Is there anything I can do for you?” He thinks and shakes his head after a while. “I can handle it. Plus, you smell like sweat.” I blush and laugh lightly. “Yeah, football practice, haha. I can shower after I help you. I can carry the boxes, you should with your legs-“ “‘Not your back.’” He finishes for me.
“I’m well aware and capable of carrying some simple boxes. I don’t need help. Move along.” He rolls his eyes, and I stand there, momentarily shocked by the behavior of my new neighbor. I turn and see a mountain of boxes and bags still piled in the back of a car, and decide to take my chance and help anyway.
I pick up a fairly heavy box and struggle to walk up the steps to the house’s door. I hear a groan and pause. “What the hell are you doing?” I turn sideways to look at the boy. He’s kind of cute. I smile, “I’m helping! Where should I put this?” He furrows his eyebrows and looks at me as if he cannot trust me.
Then, I see amusement lace his features as he says, “Can you even carry it up the stars?” I blush, embarrassed and stubborn, and try to take wobbly steps. He chuckles softly and takes it from my hand, carrying it with ease the rest of the way. I follow him into the house and comment on it. “Wow, you’re strong. Do you do sports? Maybe you should try to join the football team.”
He glares at me and pushes the box beside the rest in the bare living room. “I don’t do sports.” He moves past me to continue bringing things inside, and I chase after him. I slide beside him to grab another box, but this time he does not say anything. I walk with him to put it down, and we do that several more times until every box is safely tucked away in his new house. At least he actually let me help; it would have taken him so long to do it by himself.
He closes the car’s trunk and glances at me. “That’s all.” He tells me and turns on his feet to settle inside, but he’s startled when he sees me behind him. “W-What? Don’t you have anything better to do?” He questions, and I contemplate for a moment. I mean, I could be doing homework or something, but nah. “Nope!” I tell him cheerfully. He grimaces but lets me inside alongside him.
I fall behind to allow him to lead me wherever we are going. He enters the kitchen and begins unpacking, so I do the same. Since I do not know where anything goes, I leave everything on the counter. We get into a steady flow; I unpack each box, and he puts the objects away. After the third box of silence, I try to start up a conversation.
“So, do you like to cook?” I ask, and he replies, “Yes.” Alright, not much of a talker. Maybe I can do the talking. “That’s cool. I’m not very good at cooking. I’ve always wanted to learn some recipes, but they always end up so bad! Maybe one day you could cook with me and teach me some stuff.” I look at him excitedly, and he fights a small smile.
“You’re annoying,” He tells me with a small exhale of air, but adds, “but fine.” I perk up and continue to take out the kitchen items. “Awesome! I could show you something, too. Let’s see… I don’t have a whole lot of skills, but I could teach you some sportsy stuff. Or show you some good camping and hiking spots, if you’re interested.” He does not respond verbally, but gives a curt nod. Good enough.
“Where are you moving from?” I ask, handing him a blender. “Wisconsin.” Always one-word answers, it’s odd. “Well, I suppose that’s not too far away. What made you come to Virginia?” I inquire, and he pauses. “My mom got a job here.” Makes sense, I suppose. I move to open the eighth box, but he puts his hand over the top.
“It’s late. You should go home. I’m done for the night, anyway.” He asserts, and I look around the room. Wow, I guess we did make a lot of progress. I grab his hand and shake it before he yanks it away. “I will stop by tomorrow and help.” I inform him, and he stops me, “No, there’s no need. You’ve done enough.”
His eyes are strange; I cannot tell what he’s thinking. Is it because he finds me annoying? Or is it scared to make friends? We look at one another, and I shake my head softly. “I’ll stop by. I can even bring dinner if you’d like, my mom is making spaghetti, and it’s super tasty!” I giggle and instantly cringe inwardly. What was that? I’m giggling like a chick.
He snaps me out of my thoughts of self-deprecation when he speaks. “I’m fine. I like to work alone, anyway. Plus, my mom and sister will be here tomorrow with the rest of our stuff. We’ll manage.” I peek into the living room, spotting the large pile of boxes lining the wall. “Well, the more hands you have, the faster it’ll go, right? And you can work alone, I’ll just be here, too!”
He furrows his brows. “That defeats the purpose of working alone.” I spin on my heels and walk to the front door, waving excitedly at my new friend. “See you tomorrow!” I call out as I leave, and I hear his sigh.
I grab my bag from beside my car, knowing I should not have left it out here for anyone to steal, but glad I went over to help. Even if he acted like he did not want my help, we managed to get a lot done. As I walk into my house and kick off my shoes, my mom calls out to me.
“James! You’re home late. Come sit down, dinner is already done.” Guess I’ll shower after dinner. I sit at the table and see my mother and father looking at me suspiciously. “So, son,” My dad starts. “What brought you home so late?” He questions, stabbing a piece of chicken, and I look at him blankly.
“Oh, I was helping our neighbor unpack,” I tell them, but they glance at one another. “Our neighbor… boy or girl?” I blush red and shake my head. “Oh my gosh, stop! I wasn’t off doing anything bad! He’s a boy, and I just helped him with some boxes!” I exclaim, and they laugh heartily. “We know, we saw you drop your bag to rush over and help. You’ve always been so kind, Jamie.”
My parents call me Jamie as a nickname, even though it’s the same length as James. I smile as I scoop mashed potatoes into my mouth. “So, what are they like? Are they good people?” My mom asks, sipping her tea, and I set my spoon down.
“Well, I only met the boy. He told me they moved from Wisconsin because his mom got a new job or something. He also mentioned that she and his sister would be here tomorrow. He was… I’m not sure how to word it. He was a little distant; he didn’t really talk much.” My mom clasps her hands together excitedly.
“Oh! Since his mom and sister will be in tomorrow, maybe we should invite them to dinner!” I laugh as I shake my head. “I already tried. He said he would cook.” My mom frowns, disappointed, as she loves inviting others over. My dad chimes in, “What’s this boy's name? How old is he?” It dawns on me that I never asked that, but he didn’t either.
“Oh… I’m not sure. I forgot to introduce myself… and he didn’t say much in general.” I pick up my fork for the chicken and start eating again. The rest of dinner goes smoothly; my dad asks about practice, and my mom asks about school. I ask about their work days as we clean up.
When we finish, I head to my room. I move quickly into the shower, rushing to get out so I can look over my notes from today. As I wash, my mind wanders back to the boy from earlier. He couldn’t have been much older than me… maybe he’ll start at my school. He mentioned his mom and sister, but I have no idea if he has a dad or if he has a younger or older sister. To think about it, I thought I was asking plenty, but I really didn’t learn much. Hopefully, I will be able to help out tomorrow, even if he finds it annoying.
