right.
We crossed the road from the school to the sidewalk that went down our street. We passed the huge colonial with the willow tree in the yard. It was the biggest house in the neighborhood, sprawling out with tall windows and white columns. At one time it was probably beautiful, but some of its grandeur was weathered now, the landscaping wild and messy.
"You look at houses a lot," Ren observed.
"I always wonder who lives there and what their lives are like. If they are different from my family or maybe the same. I don't know. I want to know everything about everyone."
He looked away from me at the colonial standing in the shroud of evergreens and willows. "What if it wasn't always good?"
"Like if people were bad?" I asked.
"No, not like that. Like...there are good people and bad things happen to them." I could see the thoughts running through his mind as he spoke, deep memories or maybe fears trying to surface. I remembered the morning when he cautioned me to be careful crossing the street.
"That doesn't seem fair, but I guess it happens. But I believe that if you are good some kind of good karma must protect you."
"I don't."
I stared at him and whatever sadness was there before was gone. He was cold, his face flat and expressionless.
"Then what's the point of being good?" I asked.
He sighed, his shoulders relaxing into resignation. "I don't know. I mean, I think it helps."
"It better. Because it’s hard."
He gave me a lopsided grin and my heart jumped. "Not for you, I’m sure."
“How do you know what I’m like?” I asked, trying to tease, but my voice fell. The question came out more serious than I meant it to be, but I couldn’t take it back now.
His eyes were dark and contemplative. “I just know.”
“You seem to know everyone. Like how you stood up for Crystal to Maddy. It was really nice, but…most people think the worst about Crystal, but you didn’t. Like, you gave her the benefit of the doubt or something. It’s kind of odd.”
His gaze remained locked on mine, though there was a stillness about him, like he was waiting for something. “Is it?”
“Maybe not odd,” I said, dropping my eyes and looking down at my feet as we walked. Katie had drawn a smiley face on my left shoe. “You’re really smart about people.”
This time he was the one who looked away and he let out a deep breath. The tension in his face was gone, released in an instant. “I think everyone deserves a second chance.”
“Well, that’s a lot nicer than most of us are.”
He shrugged. “Not really.”
I wanted to argue with him about how great he was, but I didn’t. We crossed the street and before I knew it we were at his house. I didn’t want to say goodbye but he kicked his skateboard up. “See you tomorrow,” he said, a small smile on his lips.
When I got home my mom was making a mess in the kitchen with her scrapbooking again and Derek was at practice, as usual. I made a sandwich and peered over her shoulder at the page she was working on. It was a picture of Derek and me when we were little. We were on the couch and I was holding Derek as a chubby baby. He was kind of falling off my lap because he was almost as big as I was, but I was holding him tight, squishing him in a loving death embrace. My hair was short and a little curly and his was that dark baby fuzz, sticking up straight on his head.
"Cute," I said, my mouth full.
She sighed. "I know. You were all so beautiful. You still are of course, " she said hastily, anticipating my self-zinger. "I used to love to kiss your little baby heads."
"I was bald forever."
"I wondered when you would ever start growing your hair out so I could put bows in it."
"I did it on purpose to avoid the bows."
She laughed.
James wandered in the kitchen wearing his soccer shorts and a sweat-shirt, his socks rolled down to his ankles, as usual. He looked at the scrapbooking and shuffled through the pictures, his hair falling in his eyes. "Here's
We crossed the road from the school to the sidewalk that went down our street. We passed the huge colonial with the willow tree in the yard. It was the biggest house in the neighborhood, sprawling out with tall windows and white columns. At one time it was probably beautiful, but some of its grandeur was weathered now, the landscaping wild and messy.
"You look at houses a lot," Ren observed.
"I always wonder who lives there and what their lives are like. If they are different from my family or maybe the same. I don't know. I want to know everything about everyone."
He looked away from me at the colonial standing in the shroud of evergreens and willows. "What if it wasn't always good?"
"Like if people were bad?" I asked.
"No, not like that. Like...there are good people and bad things happen to them." I could see the thoughts running through his mind as he spoke, deep memories or maybe fears trying to surface. I remembered the morning when he cautioned me to be careful crossing the street.
"That doesn't seem fair, but I guess it happens. But I believe that if you are good some kind of good karma must protect you."
"I don't."
I stared at him and whatever sadness was there before was gone. He was cold, his face flat and expressionless.
"Then what's the point of being good?" I asked.
He sighed, his shoulders relaxing into resignation. "I don't know. I mean, I think it helps."
"It better. Because it’s hard."
He gave me a lopsided grin and my heart jumped. "Not for you, I’m sure."
“How do you know what I’m like?” I asked, trying to tease, but my voice fell. The question came out more serious than I meant it to be, but I couldn’t take it back now.
His eyes were dark and contemplative. “I just know.”
“You seem to know everyone. Like how you stood up for Crystal to Maddy. It was really nice, but…most people think the worst about Crystal, but you didn’t. Like, you gave her the benefit of the doubt or something. It’s kind of odd.”
His gaze remained locked on mine, though there was a stillness about him, like he was waiting for something. “Is it?”
“Maybe not odd,” I said, dropping my eyes and looking down at my feet as we walked. Katie had drawn a smiley face on my left shoe. “You’re really smart about people.”
This time he was the one who looked away and he let out a deep breath. The tension in his face was gone, released in an instant. “I think everyone deserves a second chance.”
“Well, that’s a lot nicer than most of us are.”
He shrugged. “Not really.”
I wanted to argue with him about how great he was, but I didn’t. We crossed the street and before I knew it we were at his house. I didn’t want to say goodbye but he kicked his skateboard up. “See you tomorrow,” he said, a small smile on his lips.
When I got home my mom was making a mess in the kitchen with her scrapbooking again and Derek was at practice, as usual. I made a sandwich and peered over her shoulder at the page she was working on. It was a picture of Derek and me when we were little. We were on the couch and I was holding Derek as a chubby baby. He was kind of falling off my lap because he was almost as big as I was, but I was holding him tight, squishing him in a loving death embrace. My hair was short and a little curly and his was that dark baby fuzz, sticking up straight on his head.
"Cute," I said, my mouth full.
She sighed. "I know. You were all so beautiful. You still are of course, " she said hastily, anticipating my self-zinger. "I used to love to kiss your little baby heads."
"I was bald forever."
"I wondered when you would ever start growing your hair out so I could put bows in it."
"I did it on purpose to avoid the bows."
She laughed.
James wandered in the kitchen wearing his soccer shorts and a sweat-shirt, his socks rolled down to his ankles, as usual. He looked at the scrapbooking and shuffled through the pictures, his hair falling in his eyes. "Here's
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