“This town seems so dreary,” Jeremy muttered from beside me, his blue hues following mine. A soft breath of laughter escaped my lips. Finally, something we agreed on. Only October and it was chilly. ‘Just wait till December,’ my Dad had told me.
“Charlotte call?” he asked as he too emerged from the front door, a brown box of trash in his arms. I nodded and watched as he turned the corner toward the trash cans.
“John!” The three of us turned our heads in response to the worker’s voice. “Where do you want these boxes?”
“Upstairs,” my dad answered, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Cold here,” he murmured to us as he made his way back inside.
“It snows here,” Jeremy laughed, shaking his head at the thought as he too went back inside. I remembered seeing snow when I was younger with my Grandpa. I’d go on his shoulders and pull the icicles from the roof and lick them like popsicles. The limited times I had gone to the snow, I remembered always asking my parents if I could make a snow angel and in response, I’d get a stern look followed by a ‘Do you want to get sick?’ I was pulled out of the thought, knowing I still had to fix up my room. What a nightmare. Half heartedly, I trudged my way upstairs and into the white walled room I’d soon have to paint and call my own. Two small shelves lined either side of the wall, further up toward the ceiling than I would have liked. I turned toward one of the many brown boxes and started pulling books out that I had already read. I grabbed the chair and placed it below the shelves, starting to assemble the books. My desk was already up, it was just the computer that I needed to complete it. Running one hand through my hair, I pulled the duffle bag I’d packed full of things I knew I’d have easy access to; one book to keep my mind off tomorrow along with other small necessities. I put a mental note on finding a bookstore and found myself once again downstairs.
“We’ll put Hay’s bed up, and then,” my Dad’s voice trailed off as he saw me round the corner. “Is there a specific spot you want your bed?” I shook my head, surprised at the progress we’d made within two days. “You’re going to have to paint that room too,” he laughed before turning back to the mover. Jacket on and keys in my pocket, I turned to my dad.
“I’ll be back.” With a nod I made my way out the front door, the sound of something sliding against the pavement catching my attention. To my left was a boy, two trash cans dragging behind him as he effortlessly managed to bring them to a halt beside the curb. He wiped his hands on his jeans and looked up at me. Slightly embarrassed to have been caught staring at the stranger, I gave him a slight smile and started walking toward the car which only brought me closer to him. He was tan for being in such a cold state, his black hair tussled in a way that made it seem like he had just woken up.
“You just moved in?” he asked, making his way toward me. I turned to him and nodded.
“I’m Hayden,” I stated, finding it only civil to introduce myself to my neighbor.
“You’re a,” he paused, his lips pursing ever so slightly, “junior?” I nodded, a slight breath of laughter leaving my lips.
“Senior?” I asked. He shook his head, a smile on his lips.
“Junior. Don’t let the tan mistake you,” he mused.