It's Friday night, and there's a party in the neighbourhood.
With the neighbourhood kids.
Though if they knew I called some of them 'kids' in my mind, they'd probably throw a fit.
The music was loud, but not absurdly so. The house, however, was weirdly dark. The dim lights gave off the impression that they're going to do improper things, instead of simply playing Just Dance and Mario Kart all night.
I looked around.
Everyone from Ravenwood was gathered in the Moore house. It's at the edge of the neighbourhood. You'd think it would make more sense for a neighbourhood party to be held in a house in the middle of the area, but now they could blast the music as loudly as they wanted.
"Hey, Monty!" Violet Turner called out when I walked into the backyard. She's sitting on one of the lounge chairs, her dark hair in two braids and a red cup in her hand.
"Hey, Turner," I said, and walked over to her. "How's it going?"
"Good, good. Just enjoying a night with people who get me, you know."
Not really. I didn't feel like a lot of people get me. But I guessed I was not the only seventeen year old teenager who thought that.
"Yeah," I said. "Nothing lifts the spirits like loud music, alcohol, and rebellious teenagers."
"Right?"
She knocked our red cups against each other, reminding me that I hadn't drank a lot from my Bacardi Coke.
I took a sip. It's still not very good.
"Is everything good at school?" I asked her.
Violet pulled a face. "Ugh, don't talk to me about school. For one night, I want to forget about that hell place."
'Hell place' felt too strong a phrase, but I knew it's not cool to like school so I just nodded.
"Let's do something fun," she said, moving to her feet. "Truth or dare or something."
Before I could give my opinion on her suggestion, she's already yelling at the other Ravenwood kids gathered in the garden.
Because truth or dare promised gossip and possible embarrassing sexual situations, everyone was interested.
I wasn't.
I wanted to slip back into the living room and join a round of Just Dance, but Violet turned around, her braids flying through the air, and called out, "Monty, come on!"
***
We're sitting in a circle on the Moore's impeccable and artificial grass.
It's late April, so it's warm enough to sit outside. Not that it would've mattered to me, I had the foresight to bring a cardigan.
After a quick discussion, everyone agreed to play truth or dare. Violet was clearly the leader in this group, judging by the way everyone looked at her to tell them what to do.
"Okay, well, I'll go first, and then I'll point to the next person, okay?"
She picked dare and when prompted to take off an article of clothing, immediately took off her shirt. There's appreciative yelling, and she grinned before taking a big gulp of her drink.
I watched her bright blue bra and wondered if I should feel excited or aroused.
We played a few more rounds. Emily told about the time she walked in on her parents doing it, Curtis admitted he's taken nude photos of himself, Daniel had to let the girls shave his legs, and Michael had to put ice cubes in his pants; the latter being my idea.
"My legs are so smooth," Daniel said in awe.
The girls who shaved his legs laughed and touched his legs too. He preened when they complimented him on how soft they were.
Meanwhile, Michael - who had to put ice cubes in his pants - pointed an accusatory finger at me and said, "Your turn."
I shrugged. "Okay. Dare."
He grinned, then pointed to his right. "I dare you to kiss him for a minute."
Him was Grayson Rogers.
There's a lot of things I knew about Grayson Rogers, and even more I didn't know.
What I knew was this: Grayson Rogers moved to Falcon Lane when I was ten.
He had tried to carry too many boxes from the car, had tripped, and fell on the concrete. I had looked out of my window, curious because of the loud crying, and had seen how Grayson's parents had started arguing instead of calming down their small son.
Grayson Rogers wasn't small now. Yet I had failed to see him when we sat down for truth or dare. Perhaps he'd joined our group while we were still debating what to play.
What I also knew: People seemed to be mildly afraid of Grayson Rogers.
It's mostly because of his size. He looked like he's supposed to be in college on a football scholarship.
But it's the cuts and bruises that really sealed the deal.
I didn't pay too much attention, but I'd heard the rumors.
People thought he's in a secret underground fight club, bashing people's faces in for extra money.
But what I knew about Grayson Rogers didn't matter now. Not when there's an entire group of teenagers watching me with grinning faces, waiting for me to object to the dare.
But why should I?
"Sure," I said.
I crawled to Grayson, who watched me with a frown.
"Someone get a timer!" Violet called, and Emily scrambled for her phone.
On our knees on the artificial grass, Grayson Rogers was still bigger than me.
"Are you okay with this?" I asked.
"Uh, I guess?" Grayson said, but it sounded like a question.
"I won't do tongue."
Grayson seemed to choke on his spit. "Uh, okay."
Without another word -- because why procrastinate? -- I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against Grayson Rogers' mouth.
Violet whooped loudly, and the others immediately joined in.
Why, I didn't know.
It's a very boring feeling, just skin on skin. Almost like a handshake.
Until Grayson pressed forward a little, and I suddenly remembered I was kissing Grayson Rogers.
A chilly wind blew through the backyard, and I wanted to blame it for the goosebumps breaking out on my skin, but it didn't work because I knew it's not true.
The goosebumps arrived before the wind.
The feeling quickly subsided, but the minute lasted very long.
Long enough that I wondered if I should also move my mouth. Would that make it better?
Experimentally, I tilted my head a little, and Grayson made a little gasp-y sound like he's surprised.
It's not a bad sound. It's mostly a logical sound. After all, it was kind of weird to be kissing your neighbour; the one you've kept an eye on for seven years.
The timer beeped.
"Time!" Violet yelled.
Somehow, this startled me.
It's time to pull back, I thought. Yet it's strangely difficult. My eyes opened slowly, almost lazily, like I was half asleep.
Except I didn't feel tired. Not at all.
Grayson Rogers was looking at me with dark eyes, darker than their usual coffee shade.
Somehow, the look in his eyes made my stomach feel funny, all unstable and queasy.
Before I could act on the strange feeling, an arm got thrown around my shoulders. "Didn't know you had it in you, man," Violet grinned.
I shrugged. "It's kissing. It's not advanced physics."
"Guess not!" She laughed. "Okay, your turn to pick the next victim."
I looked around the circle and randomly pointed at someone who hadn't had a turn yet. When the game resumed, I turned back to Grayson.
But the spot beside me was empty.
"Did you see where Grayson went?" I asked Violet.
"Huh?" she said, not even looking at me, distracted by the game. "No idea."
***
It took me half an hour before I finally spotted Grayson Rogers' dark curls. He's in the hallway, black bomber jacket in his hand.
"For a big guy, you're hard to find," I said.
He looked at his feet. "I was just going."
"Yeah, alright. It's getting late."
"Yeah."
I walked to the door and opened it. When Grayson merely stared at me, confused, I gestured outside.
"Well, let's go."
"You want me to go?"
"No, I'm going too."
This didn't seem to clear up Grayson's confusion. But it did make him move. He shrugged on his jacket, then walked out the door.
It's a fairly bright evening. Not only were the streetlights on, but the moon was also almost full, glowing brightly down at the earth and the silence between me and Grayson as we walked through the streets of Ravenwood.
It's not really awkward.
Well. Maybe a little.
The houses got smaller and closer together the longer we walked, but the distance between me and Grayson stayed the same. Respectable.
"How are you?" I asked eventually.
Grayson was silent for a few seconds. "The same as usual."
"That's good."
He shrugged, and there's silence once more.
When we turned the corner and walked onto a sleeping Falcon Lane, I thought absentmindedly that this was only the fourth time I'd ever talked to Grayson Rogers. For someone I'd known most of my life, it's not-
"How are you?"
The words were pushed out into the night like Grayson literally wanted to break the silence.
Surprised, I pushed up my red glasses. "Also the same as usual. I go to school, meet my friends, do homework, then repeat everything the next day."
"You don't do anything after school?"
It's only a few more steps until our houses. I could see the ceramic pots on the porch that my brother and I painted when we were younger.
"I do. I play video games, or I read. Sometimes I watch a movie with my dad."
Eyes on the ground, Grayson nodded.
We're standing in front of my home now. There's a light on in the living room, and I bet my mother was secretly watching us through the window.
"Anyway," I said. "I'm going inside."
Grayson nodded again.
Then his eyes found me for the first time since our kiss, and even though I had to tilt back my head, it's nice. It's nice to look into Grayson's eyes.
"Good night," I said.
"Bye," he said. He turned around abruptly, like someone pulled on his arm. Pulled him away from 48 Falcon Lane.
I watched Grayson Rogers' shape grow smaller before I got inside the house. When I closed the front door, my mother pounced on me almost immediately.
"Was that Grayson Rogers?" she asked, hair in a messy bun and a book in her hands.
"Shouldn't you be asleep?" I asked.
"I know, but it was just so tense and I needed to know what happened next." She waved the book in her hands for emphasis. "I swear I'm just going to finish this chapter and then I'll go to bed."
Unlikely.
I toed off my shoes and made for the stairs.
"Wait, don't ignore my question," my mother said. "Was that Grayson Rogers?"
"Yeah, it was."
"How's he doing? You two never really talk."
I leaned against the wall and thought back to the raging storm, three years ago. To the way Grayson Rogers' laugh had made me smile.
"Not really, no," I said.
"Do you think that's going to change? You go to the same school, right?"
"We're not in the same friend groups though."
My mother took a sip of her tea. "Well, you never know."
But that's the thing. I prided myself on knowing nearly everything.
It's uncommon for me to not know.
First chapter done! What do you think? Please leave a vote and comment tysm â¤