*Aiden
The teacher, for some absurd reason I knew nothing about, had set up the grey-slated tables in a circular fashion, giving students no choice but to be watched by every piercingly judgmental eye.

And I was the new kid. It wasn’t only the fact that I was entering in the middle of the school year as well as the middle of high school. It was the fact that I was new that made the students act cold and unfriendly, unused to seeing a new face.

They had better confront it sooner or later. When they went off to college, they would die of strangeness. No wonder my parents always stuck together, with only my old teachers as their social buddies—and that only happened so often because I got in trouble every other week.

I was determined to prove that I could handle a small town situation. Yes, my father’s words had struck me heavily: ‘We’re trusting you to be able to adapt to a new place. I know it’s tough, to have to start anew, but really Aiden, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble. Not like I did.’

Well, the circular tables were already irritating me. There was not a clue in the room to tell me why such an arrangement had been made. I couldn’t show my uneasiness, and I couldn’t reveal that I couldn’t fit in.

And then, as I took a seat I hoped was appropriate, she walked in. Not the teacher, obviously, since Mrs. Estrada is a big woman with a dire need for a workout. Besides, Estrada was seated at the front of the classroom with a book on her chest, eyes closed, and her mouth making the occasional yawn.

No, it was a student, Brooke Flores, though at this time her name was a stranger to me. She swept the room casually with her eyes and took a seat directly facing me before crossing her legs daintily. A few seconds later, she shifted and rested her head on her arm, trying not so well to be unseen.

Class started a few moments later, and my attention remained on her.

She looked too young to be in this class.
It wasn’t the petite height, or the unsure eyes. It wasn’t the way she kept quiet unless called upon, or the way she hesitated before answering each question. It wasn’t the fact that she didn’t bother to socialize with the other kids, or the fact that she paid attention to the teacher, yet seemed to be daydreaming at the same time. It wasn’t the occasional flicker of her eyes from person to person, as if watching and keeping track of every detail in the room, or that cross between a satisfied and resigned stare, as if she wanted to make people think she loved her life, but, in actual fact, yearned for more.

There was nothing specific. She just looked it.

And then the teacher called my name loudly. “Aiden… Aiden Thomas, is it?” Estrada licked her lips uncleanly.

“Huh? Oh, yes. Yeah.”

“The point of this seminar is to take part in the discussion. I know you’re new, but this material was given to every student at the end of last semester, and I sent you a copy as well. Your parents received the email. Did you not?”

Estrada’s tone was getting to me, and I forced myself to breathe. Email, email… What email? My answer would have been no, I had not received a bloody email from her, and I wouldn’t have checked it anyway, having gotten it from a complete stranger.

But that wouldn’t have been good for a first impression. What I did next, though, couldn’t have been any better. I just didn’t foresee the consequences before I said, “Oh, that email. Of course I received it.”

“I don’t want to fail you then. Please, contribute your thoughts.”

I nodded and looked around the room, waiting for someone to start up the seminar once more. Nobody did, and I realized Estrada’s impatient stare was on me.

Surprised, I looked at her unkindly face, the lines having multiplied from her scowl. “You want me to start?” I asked, clueless. Oh, shut up now.

“Yes.”

I tried to clear my throat, but failed in all respects, resulting in a sort of croak as opposed to words escaping my mouth. “Um, well… you see… My thoughts on this… Tell me again, what are we discussing?”

Who gave a crap anymore?

Estrada strode to the center of the circle, hands on hips. She barked to the students, “Please hold up your books so Mr. Thomas can see.”

A bloody sword stared back at me from every corner of the room, and I didn’t even have to read the title to know what the book was: William Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

Sometimes, life just can’t help stabbing you in the back of the neck so that you think you might suffocate.

The thing was, a requirement in my old school had been to read Macbeth, and, surprising enough, I actually liked to read. There was no need to go onto Sparknotes for every single answer on a quiz.

And Macbeth was one of my favorites of Shakespeare’s works. Too bad the glass that normally came with being new was finally shattered, and there was no way I could join in the seminar now.

Estrada gave me an evil smile. Then she turned her menace on another student, making a one-eighty turn to face her. “Brooke Flores,” She said. “I know you’ve read the work. I’d appreciate it if you joined in the discussion as well.”

Brooke Flores’ blue eyes fell on mine when Estrada moved her large body away. I found myself suddenly captivated in her young face, yet wise eyes, but the spell was broken when she blinked and looked away.

*Brooke
There was no reason for my hatred of Socratic seminars. It was as if this trait had been inherited from some unknown ancestor. Not my parents, because they were the loudest people I’d ever met, and they wouldn’t stop talking even if their lives depended on it.

A little advice on surviving Mrs. Estrada’s class: She was strict, and sometimes—well, all the time—unreasonable. Her goal for a well-disciplined class was good in itself, but I couldn’t deny that she took it too far. So I simply brown nosed her during my free time.

It’s not something I particularly like to do. It’s not even in my nature to do so, but what can you expect? I do have a natural tendency to wanting to get an A in all my classes, and, having the hardest English teacher in the school, that goal was a little bit unrealistic unless your writing was good and the teacher liked you.

Mrs. Estrada seems to have mixed feelings for me. It’s not that she can’t decide—she simply sees me as two different people, but she puts the grades of both these people on the same report card. Usually, it turns out for the best.

This unseen Socratic seminar would pull down my grade, but I would simply give the teacher some compliments about her dog after school; she would come to her senses and give me a B.

I quickly spotted the least in-the-spotlight seat and took it across from a boy I had never seen before. His hair and eyes were a dark shade of brown, and he dressed in dark jeans and a sweater. He didn’t look like he belonged here in this school, and much less this town. Nevertheless, the new kid stirred my interest for a second before the classroom was swarmed with latecomers and Mrs. Estrada, currently snoring away like a bear, snapped open her eyes and started class.

“Take out your books everyone,” Mrs. Estrada said sleepily. “Let the seminar begin.”
He was watching my every move.
I could tell from the way he scratched his notepad once in a while to make me think otherwise, and the way he constantly pursed his lips at the clock to make me think he wanted class simply to end. I could tell because of his dark eyes dancing to my figure when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, and because he stuttered when the teacher called his name. I could tell by way of his stiff legs trying to keep as still as possible, and by way of the unnaturally jerked movements when shifting positions without catching my glare. I could tell how he wasn’t ever looking at me when I turned to him, and how I could catch the eye of other students unaware.

It was nothing specific. He just looked it.

“Aiden Thomas, is it?” Mrs. Estrada said. Yes, the boy definitely stuttered. He looked so flustered, so out of it, that I almost felt sorry for him.

But he hadn’t even attempted to read Macbeth? That was pathetic. And his complete shock that we were actually discussing it? His acting almost fooled me. He should have listened at least. Pay attention and the world will go your way.

It did, however, come as a surprise when my name was shouted out of nowhere. I nearly jumped at Mrs. Estrada’s harsh tone. I nodded to her demand of joining in the discussion, knowing full well I wouldn’t, and she waddled back to her desk.

I couldn’t help it as I found myself staring at Aiden Thomas, his deep, brown eyes holding me for just one second before I was able to pry away from his intense glare. My heart was beating too fast for comfort.

*Aiden
I lugged my empty backpack on my shoulders with a frown. My house was in walking distance from the school, which meant I wouldn’t be given a chance to make friends on the bus. That was the place to do it. It always had been.

Whatever. This town was too small to make close friends. Everybody knew your reputation from the moment you opened your mouth. There was no avoiding it.

Apparently, among the many reports circling the cafeteria at lunch, I had talked back to Estrada more than once and nearly made her cry. It resulted in my being at a lone table, crunching tasteless fries beneath my teeth. I scanned each face for Brooke, but she was nowhere to be found.

It was just as well anyway. She wasn’t exactly the type of girl I wanted to mess with.

My eyes inadvertently slid over to the great Domed Building, a structure that always caught my eye. It looked pretty magnificent, and kind of mythological, the sun’s rays creating the perfect spotlight. The white paint of the dome shone in my eyes and I was forced to look away.

My home was coming up around the corner. How cramped everything was in this town. My parents had said it was the most convenient place to be living in, even though I completely disagreed. Burger shacks were the hangout place I’d been so used to going to, but here, people preferred coffee shops.

I agreed, coffee was a necessity of life—what teenager went without it? But I saw no point in spending every waking moment in there. The smell would eventually be too strong for me to handle.

A few minutes of walking, a few minutes of taking in the chirping tweets of birds, a few minutes of smelling the overly fresh air, all of that and my house came into view. I plastered a smile onto my face before bracing myself to open the door.

“Aiden,” the voice came immediately.

My mother stood in the kitchen doorway, poised and perfect. Her reading glasses hung loose on her beak nose, and she stared through them with mud-brown eyes, as if she wanted to look casual, though her expectant expression told me what she was going to say before she spoke the words.

“Aiden,” She said, her voice soft. She acted as if she wanted no trouble, but really she just wanted to hear what I’d done this time to displease her. She relished in her disapproval of me. “Tell me what you did at school today.”

Her terse language destroyed her attempt at being calm.

I shrugged and dropped my bag. “Nothing. It was uneventful.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

I gave a short barking laugh. “Well, you were right about this place. There’s nothing to tell, it’s so boring.”

“I don’t appreciate you calling the town I grew up in boring—“

Seriously? Was nothing I did good enough? Would a lie better appease my mother as opposed to being honest? I shook my head in disbelief. This town was supposed to change her, but it did nothing but bring out the side I hated.

I said, “Mom, I’m not going to lie straight to your face. I’m not going to say I love it here just to make you happy. It was your decision in the first place to leave this town when you had me. Now we’re back and I don’t like what I’ve seen so far. Deal with it.” I turned my back on her.

“Aiden!”

I had one foot on a stair before I twisted around and spat, “What?”

My mother regained her composure and pushed her glasses up her nose in a stuck up way. “Dinner will be at seven sharp.”

“Whatever.”

I jogged up the stairs, two steps at a time, and let my fury boil down while I sat at my desk with a sigh. My notebook was just in reach, and I pulled it open, beginning to scrawl the words ‘Dear Diary’ before a movement outside the window caught my eye.

There she was, her small legs carrying a turtle shell backpack with some struggle, her long brown hair getting splattered all over her face when a wind blew past, and her small figure, moving as if she had all the time in the world, ever so slowly.

*Brooke
I often hate slow walkers, so it’s always been a habit of mine to be quicker than the others, to glide by them so that they get the gist—I didn’t care if they were going to move along like snails; they were not going to be in my way. I always hoped that, somehow, I left behind a message: speed up.

Besides, it gave me extra time on homework, which meant I could spend time reading, writing, or drawing—my three favorite hobbies. Maybe I’d even take my dogs for a walk. That would make my parents happy.

These thoughts got stopped short when I saw who was walking in front of me. Oh, wasn’t it just my luck, to be stuck behind the new rebel kid. And look at that—he was a slow walker.

He could be upset about the rumors spreading viciously about school, but that was no reason to block people’s way.

My footsteps consciously grew softer and slower so that I could avoid him seeing me. It wasn’t that I was scared he was going to judge me, or that he would talk to me… In fact, there really was no reason why I was slowing down; I just didn’t feel like dealing with his sort of character at the moment.

It wasn’t long before we passed the Domed Building and, further ahead, swerved onto my street. Aiden surprised me by suddenly turning into a driveway—one exactly across my own. I stopped walking for a moment, at a loss of what to do.

Was it really a huge matter? Yes, something was telling me it was, even though I knew close to nothing about him.

My feet were still locked on the cement ground, looking as if I were contemplating the flowers in the gardens giving every driveway a brightness that would otherwise have been lacking, when Aiden finally slammed the door. I waited a few moments, staring at that closed doorway, the numbers 27 embedded in gold letters on it.

What to do now? I bit my lip, suddenly wishing I had stuck to my usual routine of walking fast so that I could have passed him. If he had said hi, I would have done the same. It was as easy as that.

Alright, so I’d missed my chance. This wasn’t the last time I would almost bump into him; we had the rest of the school year.

Nodding to myself, and ignoring the part of my brain that said I was being foolish, I shrugged my shoulders roughly, feeling the weight of my bag taking its toll, and straddled my way home.

My dogs, Macy and Amy, both retrievers, one the mother of the other, greeted me with happily wagging tails. I gave them each a pet.

My parents worked all day, but I noticed they’d left a note on the fridge, telling me they’d be back late tonight because of a necessary business function. There was frozen food in the fridge; I just had to take my pick—pizza, or macaroni and cheese.

I decided to save the decision for that evening.
The dogs scampered after me when I went up to my room and started unpacking textbooks from my bag, lining them neatly upon the empty shelves I had left on my bookcase for just this reason.

I made sure my books weren’t untidy, and none were hanging out of line. A crooked picture of my parents and I caught my eye, and I hurried over to fix it. Then I grabbed my laptop and plopped onto my bed, turning it on while I looked out the window on my left, the screen wide open to let sunlight stream in.

And there he was, forehead creased in a frown, right hand scribbling like a madman while he hovered over an open notebook. His page, from where I was, looked to be half-filled, though it may have been my imagination. It was almost impossible to see it from this distance.

I had no idea what he could be writing, and it wasn’t my business. My laptop flickered on and I typed in my username password. The first thing I checked was my email. I saw, disappointedly, that I had none unread, so I put my laptop away and made myself comfortable on my velvet cushions.

As if it was the most normal thing in the world, I turned my head to the left again, expecting to see Aiden writing away. But when I looked, his seat was empty, the notebook neatly put away.

I frowned, wondering where he could have gone.

And then I heard the doorbell ring.

*Aiden
Should I have cared that my mother was sitting alone in that kitchen pondering over what to do with me when I decided to sneak out? Probably. But at the moment, a sort of impulse made me need to leave, and, of course, the image of Brooke lying on her bed, her glowing laptop screen shining on her face.

She looked a bit too sad, more so than any other girl I’d known, so I tore a page out of my notebook—the page I’d been writing—and crept down the stairs, peering into the kitchen. My mother had her back turned to me.

With a stolen glance behind me, I hurriedly opened the front door and shut it with a soft click. There were no cars to make the long stretch of a road dangerous, so I didn’t bother to look left and right, as I’d been taught.

With giant strides, I slid the crumpled paper beneath her front door, hesitated, and then rang the doorbell, hearing the shrill chimes as they created warning noises to the girl within.

“Aiden!”

My mother. She made everything in my life miserable. It was if she had completely forgotten what it was like to be a teenager. I was starting to think she had been born an adult. Her and my father both. They were perfect for each other.

I stored a longing glance of her door, number 72, in my mind, and ran back to the other side of the street to join my mother. Actually, I more hustled past her to hide in the house. Now that I had thought through what I was doing, my cheeks were reddening with embarrassment.

To give a piece of my life to a girl I barely knew—well, I was a lunatic, no doubt about it.

My mother stormed up to my face, waving her finger as if I were a little boy. “You! You just can’t leave people alone. It’s rude to disturb a neighbor. Were you trying to give them a reason to hate us?”

I held up my hands defensively and shook them. “I was being friendly. I know the girl who lives in the house. I wanted to give her a greeting, you know. She seems kind of lonely at school. I was being nice.”

“Nice?” My mother’s incredulous tone should not have been allowed. Did she never read parenting books when she had me? Had she decided raising me as if we were in a competition would turn me into a great man? “Aiden, I don’t believe this.”

She surprised me then. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked up to Brooke’s house. Her thumb pressed the doorbell hard, and I heard the faint chimes again. Anger made me want to drag my mother away from the house, but I was afraid someone would open the door.

I shut the house door and leaned against it, arms crossed. I shouldn’t have allowed this. My mother got involved in all my affairs. She limited me as best as she could without breaking the law of child abuse. But she came very close to it.

Brooke was probably telling her everything. That would be awful. No, it would be worse than awful. I’d have to go through with the screaming and the tormenting, and when my father got home, I’d get it again.

I couldn’t handle it. Not again.

The handle behind me turned and I moved so that my mother could get in.

She had a smirk on her face, one of satisfaction I hadn’t seen her display in the past day and a half. She put an overly sympathetic hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Honey,” She said.

My mother hadn’t called me ‘honey’ since I was about two.

She said to me, “Honey, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this. You think you know this girl, and I know your… ah, infatuation… with her is unavoidable at such an age. But this girl, this Brooke, well, she says she doesn’t know you.”

*Brooke
My dogs whimpered at the sound of the bell, and I spent a few minutes trying to calm them down. It wasn’t very often that anyone came over without warning.

When I finally did get to the door, my foot scraped a piece of paper. Frowning, I tentatively picked it up, making out a cursive scrawl as if someone had been trying hard to get too many things down in too little time.

The bell rang once more.

I folded the paper and put it in my pocket before opening the door.

Instead of who I thought it would be, a middle-aged woman greeted me. She had her hair tied in a neat little bun, grey streaks lining her scalp, and glasses hanging around a beaded chain on her neck.

“Hello,” She said cheerfully, looking beyond me.

I tried to see what it was that had her so fascinated in my house, but the dogs were out of sight and only a hallway with bare walls could be seen from her angle.

“Hi,” I tried.

She held out a hand and shook mine. Then, as if I’d been filled with germs, she wiped her hands on her pants. “I’m Mrs. Thomas, if you were wondering, from across the street. I just thought to give you a greeting.”

Mrs. Thomas. Aiden’s mother. They resembled each other only in their eyes. I nodded as if this was the most normal thing in the world. “Oh, you must be new here. I haven’t seen you around.”

“Yes, my family and I moved here just a few days ago. I’m sure you noticed the moving vans?” I shook my head, and Mrs. Thomas continued. “Well, it’s no matter. We’re here now. See, my husband and I were raised here, but we moved away on… business. But our son is quite the troublemaker. We thought small town life would do him good.”

“You have a son?”

Mrs. Thomas was nodding vigorously now, her planned speech having gone perfectly, or so it seemed in the manner she was acting. “Yes, I’m sure you know him. He attends your school now. Aiden Thomas?”

The paper in my pocket now seemed like a large paperweight, and I wondered what the right thing to say would be. I settled for, “I don’t think I know him.” It was true, in a way.

“Ah, I see. Sorry to bother you then.”

I nodded. “Don’t worry about it. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“May I ask your name?”

“Brooke. Brooke Flores.”

Mrs. Thomas’ eyes widened for a moment, and she pursed her lips, her expression still as if in shock. In a second, she’d recovered and was suddenly backing away with a fake smile. “Nice to meet you, Brooke.”

I closed the door and fingered the note while walking up and down the hallway. Eventually, that mother retriever of mine began to tail me, and I bent down to scratch her behind the ears. “What do you think, huh, Macy?” I asked her.

She nudged my nose in a friendly fashion, giving me the courage to finally look at the note.

Dear Diary,
Today was my first day at ... Yutoepea High. It was uneventful for the most part, as I explained to Mom just a second ago. At least, aside from being clueless in class. I like Macbeth. I love Macbeth. It’s one of the best books ever written. Life is just cruel. I should have looked at the person’s book on the table next to mine, just so Estrada would have had a good impression of me. I guess my plan to start anew is going downhill already. I can’t say I’m surprised. But I was distracted by someone. I don’t know why she drew me so suddenly; there wasn’t much special about her. You know what? I’m lying. There’s just nothing specific. She just looked it, you know? There’s really no need to go into details. She has these blue, blue eyes, and chocolate brown hair. She’s beau... I can’t not say she’s beautiful. And the most normal person I’ve seen since being in Yutoepea. I don’t know what it is about this place. It has a certain feel that’s... Well, it’s just too peaceful. You know, the stereotypical school, and the stereotypical neighborhood. There’s one place where it all happens, and one place where everyone hangs out, and along one street is a place where almost everyone lives. It’s eerie, if you think about it a lot. I’ve only been given a day to make a judgment and I’m already noticing it. I wonder what the others here must know. They must think this place is... Unless, they don’t know that this town is different to others. Being away from it before, I kind of notice the difference. I—


I turned the paper around and around in a somersault but saw no more words. The cancelled out words stared at me hauntingly, just as much as those not. This was just a piece of Aiden’s soul.

*Aiden
Dinner was quiet that night, at first anyway.

Mom was trying hard not to glance at me, and she kept her eyes on my father, who was too busy moving his peas around on his plate to notice. His hair was unusually bright today, which may have been the sun’s work, and his calloused hands said he’d been hard at work in his new engineering company.

I’d been told that it wasn’t actually new, that he actually had his first job at that company after graduating from high school. I didn’t know the reason why he’d quit, and I didn’t know why he left the town in the end.

“How was work?” I tried. I never asked this question, not normally, not unless a conversation was already skipping across the table between my parents. Really, the silence was unnerving.

My mother took this chance to ruin the night. “Did you hear what happened with Aiden at school today, Fred?” She asked my dad.

My father was busy poking his peas around. He looked up at the sound of his name. “School? Right, Aiden’s first day. How did it go? Make any new friends? I remember my high school days here. It was where I met your mother, you know…” And he was off on a tangent.

Nevertheless, this did draw the attention away from me for a while, and I smirked at my mother’s frustration, making the appropriate “oh yeah’s?” and “really’s” when ever I thought they deemed necessary.

He finally ended with a gleam in his eye, his plate of food untouched, “And once I had a secure job, I married your mother.”

Just. Shut. Up. Dad.

I felt bad, just slightly, for even thinking those words, but I had heard it enough times! If he wanted to surprise me, he could tell me something new, like, perhaps, tell me why he had left Yutoepea with my mom in the first place. That would certainly stir my interest.

“Honey,” My mother said. She leaned forward to catch my dad’s attention. “You should hear what Aiden has to say about the new school.”

“Right, right.” Dad cleared his throat. “Aiden,” He said deeply, almost frighteningly, “How was your first day of school? Did it go well?”

“Yeah, for the most part,” I said.

“For the most part?” My dad growled. He got angry too easily. “What happened?”

I gave him an astonished look. Seriously, there was no need to be so upset over that answer. “I have great teachers, except perhaps one, and nobody likes me because of certain rumors about the new kid, aka, me, and I just… blanked out for a while in class. It was no bigee. Nothing to worry about. I’ll fix it.”

“We have a reputation to maintain in this town, Aiden,” Dad warned.

I nearly laughed. In fact, I had the beginnings of it bubbling up in my chest, but I saw the stern faces on my parents, and I knew I would only get into more trouble. “Yeah. Okay. Reputation. Got it.” I took a bite of my food. “So… what exactly is our reputation? Or yours. I mean, I don’t really have one.”

“You better not have one that disagrees with everything we stand for, young man, or we will send you to military school.”

My eyes grew wide. “Wait, really?” This was new.

“No,” Mom interjected. “But you will be grounded for the rest of your life.”

“Or until I’m eighteen.”

“For. The. Rest. Of. Your. Life.”

Harsh, my mother was. I waved her words away with my spoon and rolled my eyes. “Dad, how was work?”

“Good, good. Caught up with some old friends. Told them a bit about you.”

“You talked about me?” I asked.

“Well, I couldn’t have surprises showing up on their doorsteps now, could I?”

I felt my cheeks redden considerably, remembering the little note I had left for Brooke. Had it been stupid? It must have been. She must be laughing her head off at the new kid.

I didn’t even know why I felt so insecure. Why had I given that note to her again? Was there really a clear reason? Perhaps the reason was just as unclear as the reason my parents had left the town.

“Did you tell them about my… reputation? I mean, if you want our reputation to stay good, you can’t go around saying I’m bad to everyone you know. Just saying.”

Dad had this knowing look though. Yes, he knew everything. “But see, this is where your job becomes hard. You just try to be the good little boy I know you are, and my friends will start praising you to me. And if you aren’t going to do that… I guess there is no harm done there.”

I wanted to get mad, but there was really no point. My father was my father and I could change none of that. His ‘plans’ were a little bit ridiculous, but, again, I could change none of that.

What I could do was go back to doing what I did best, since, really, my father would have no harm done there, his words. And we would argue, but I would have the upper hand.


*Brooke
Dinner was abnormally quiet for a change, until I started to talk. This wasn’t normal behavior for my parents. Usually, they would have struck up a conversation already, whether it be about butterflies or dogs. Just as long as they were talking, they were happy.

Silence gave the table a moody embrace.

“So what’s going on?” I asked.

My father blinked like I’d just awoken him. He stuffed a piece of meat in his mouth and chewed slowly, his hand up to tell me to wait. Once he’d swallowed and cleansed his mouth with water, he said, “Nothing.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” My mother asked.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just… You seem a little bit distracted.”

I nearly choked on my water. “Me?”

My mother, not understanding my shock, looked around the dining room as if to check if I saw anyone she didn’t. “Well, yes.”

Wiping my mouth, I nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good.” My mother reached from across the table and patted my hand as if I was her pet and I’d just done something pleasing to her. When she wasn’t looking, I covertly dropped a square carrot onto the floor, where Macy scooped it up happily.

“So…” I started. My parents both looked at me with wide eyes. “Have you heard about the new family in town?” I asked cheerfully.

“New family?” Mom asked.

Dad nodded happily. “Yes, yes I have. The Thomas’ are back. Fred is back in engineering with me. Isn’t that great?”

“You know them?” I said. “But they’re new.”

“Well, technically, they’re old,” Mom explained. “The Thomas’ were actually quite good friends of ours before they decided to take off. I never understood why they did that… But we were close. We gave birth to babies on the same day, actually.”

I almost dropped my spoon. Almost. Why did this surprise me, anyway? After that note, and the strange talk at the door, I didn’t think anymore could. “So they’re son has the same birthday as me?”

“Yes,” Dad told me. “Born in the spring, both of you. It was quite the miracle. We were very close friends, I might remind you. And then a month after you were born, the Thomas’ took off. Never understood it.”

“How did you know they have a son?” My mother asked.

I had been hoping she would overlook that. “Um… Well, he’s in my English class.”

“And did you say hi?” Dad asked me. He sounded like he was warning me of something. Even my mother looked stunned at the question.

“No!”

Dad swallowed some water. “Good. Very good. The Thomas’ are nice people, but I was talking with Fred this morning, and he told me his son was a troublemaker. He said he hated to admit it, but he wanted to leave me no surprises.”

“He didn’t seem like much of a troublemaker to me,” I said.

“Maybe not today, but there is the whole year to get to know him.”

“Hm.”

I didn’t want to laugh in my parents’ faces, because I knew that would only require an explanation. I kept my giggles within me. In truth, with that little page of Aiden’s diary, I felt like I knew him already.

I felt like I knew him quite well.