14

582 30 25
                                    

"Hey," he says once I open the door.

"Hi," I say, a little flustered. It's not like my house is messy, but suddenly I felt like it was plain. His house had character. It had comfort. My house felt almost like an office with a kitchen.

It's one of the "nicer" houses in our neighborhood, Alex says. I don't like to think about stuff like that. Sometimes I wish our house was different. When I get older, I won't get a house so big. Small, cozy, and homey.

There was nothing I could do about the lack of homeiness of our white walls, marble counters, couches in pristine condition. It's so prominent now, how snobby and characterless our house is.

My mom used to be in charge of decorating. When she left, she took everything down. The variety of family photos from when I was a newborn to freshman year are nowhere in sight for obvious reasons. No paintings, no wreaths or accent pieces. Just a few lonely fake flower vases.

Cole looks around, seeing how different everything is. His house had barely changed, while mine was a whole different house all together.

"Hi, Mr. Chen," Cole says politely to my father. Dad looks up.

"Hey Cole!" my dad greets him warmly. I think he misses seeing Cole. He always wanted a son. "Long time no see." He turns to me.

"Did you offer him a snack?" I nod.

"Just about to get to that."

I turn around towards to the kitchen, Cole following.

"You want a snack before we start?" I ask. I lead him to the snack cabinet that is filled with various candies and chips. They're usually saved for field trip lunches, sleepovers, or hangouts. Cole selects Sour Patch and a Doritos.

"No burnt popcorn?" I joke. He laughs.

"Nah, figured I didn't like it that much." I chuckle as I select a bag of Takis and close the cabinet.

"If you want more, there's plenty where that came from."

I go to the living room and turn on the T.V., heading straight for Netflix where the movie was in my recommended. Ha. Thanks Fate.

Cole has already plopped himself on the couch and opened his Doritos. I start the movie, and then decided to sit next to him. It'd be just plain rude to sit like ten feet away from him, though I considered it.

--

"The movie was okay. I mean, the book was better," I say, once the credits start. He nods.

"Yeah."

"Gen was kind of like...wrong. And John Ambrose McClaren weird."

"I don't even really remember why John Ambrose Mc-Who-Ha is important."

"He was one of the five guys."

"I only remember the gay kid, Josh, and Kavinsky."

I sigh.

"Okay, well, Kenny I think was the kid from church camp and John was her old friend...? Something like that? I don't even know."

He shrugs.

"Josh should've been more intimidating," I think aloud.

"Eh, he sounded like a nerd in the book. 'A guy who'd be good at computers,' remember?"

I blink in surprise.

"You remember that?"

He rolls his eyes.

"I did read the book, you know."

I hold out my hand for his trash. He had succeeded in finished both of his selections. It was only the afternoon.

"What do you want to do?" I ask.

He yawns, running his hands through his hair. For a Saturday, where most kids sleep until 12 o'clock, Cole still looks tired. I hadn't noticed until now.

"Do you want to go home?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"No, I'm okay. Maybe I'll stop to get coffee or something."

I nod.

"I'll go with you."

He looks at me strangely.

"Why?"

"...Because I like coffee? Because I have nothing else to do?"

He grins a little.

"If I didn't know better, you're trying to come up with an excuse to spend time with me."

I sigh.

"Boys are such egomaniacs," I say. "This is strictly for academic purposes only."

He isn't getting the joke. In fact, I would go as far as to say I saw a spark of hurt in his eyes. I nudge him, feeling bad.

"I was joking, dummy."

He nods, and I feel a little bad. I've been told I can't do sarcasm. They were probably right.

"I need coffee," he whines.

I nod.

"Let's go," I say, standing up.

He stands up, glancing at his phone. His eyes scan it, looking for something. What is he looking for?

"And also, we're walking," I say. He sighs.

"Right. No driving."

"It's only a few blocks away," I point out.

He's about to protest, but he remembers. Once I'm set on something, I won't change my mind. Ever.

"Let's go then," he says.

The walk is an awkward silence for the first few streets. We pass by his house on the way. He lives so close, and yet we rarely see each other anymore. Not until recently.

My eyes drift off to his younger brother's bedroom window. He's at his desk with headphones in and a small electric guitar in hand. He looks like he's ten trying to be an emo moody teenager. His hair is sort of long, choppy. Like Joe Jonas before he and his brothers' band broke up. Like in "Burnin' up."

"How's Lucas doing?" I ask, facing ahead again. Cole had been following my gaze before I asked. He looks back at the road too.

"He's good. Coping with stuff, but good."

I nod.

"And Eliana?"

He shrugs.

"She's okay, I guess."

He keeps walking, picking up his pace. A bout of energy seems to have entered his body, and I can't see his face anymore. He must really want coffee.

He opens the door and holds it open for me to enter first. I walk in, mumbling a thanks. I'm actually not a huge fan of coffee, so I scan the menu. The walls are white, the few shelves held little plants and little vases of sunflowers. The checkered floors are black and white, and I sit down at one of the tables next to the curtained window. The sun is setting, making the whole room look a bit warmer. I like it.

Cole walks up to the counter and I watch him order with ease. I don't know why, but I lose my words when I'm ordering. There's a bunch of "um's" and "uh's" within each sentence, even for something as simple as ordering a smoothie.

Cole approaches me, a iced coffee in hand. He studies me while taking a sip.

"You don't want anything?" he asks.

Do I?

"Nope. No, I'm good. I don't--"

"Hey, Emerson! What's up?"

Oh gosh. Please no. Please no. It's Jack. Jackson Montoya. He also happens to be one of Cole's tagalongs on his heists to private property, on his illegal adventures. His girlfriend, Sandra, is standing next to him, Jack's arm wrapped obnoxiously tight around her waist. This...this is not gonna end well.

First KissWhere stories live. Discover now