𝚝𝚠𝚘

Dear Diary,

Well, it isn't raining today. It's really cloudy and windy, so it's cold. I feel like I can never catch a break. It's supposed to be summer - hot, humid, sunny. This is why I hate living here. I long to feel the warm sun beaming down on my skin. Maybe one of these days I'll see a blue sky. In other news, mom continued to hound me this morning. "Hope, go make some friends." How am I going to do that when I'm not around people? If I didn't have any friends in high school, why would I have friends now? I'm starting to overthink this college situation. I didn't want to go because what would I do? I don't have any interests. Before Hunter's accident, I thought about being a ballet dancer. That's pretty much over now. I haven't danced in almost a year, I haven't done anything in almost a year. I'm alive but I'm not living. I feel like I will never be able to function again. Hunter was my best friend, my biggest inspiration. His death pains me to even think about...

"Then why are you here?" I mutter to myself while looking up at his tombstone. Sometimes I don't even know why I waste my days sitting in this run down cemetery. I guess it's because he's done so much for me.

All my life, Hunter and I had this unbreakable bond. Usually an older brother would pick on his little sister. He did, on occasion, but it never lasted long. I admired his strength and passion for life. He was popular, energetic, athletic. I used to sit and watch his lacrosse games for hours and hours and never get sick of them.

He never got mad at me, ever. Even when I crushed on all of his friends, he didn't care. He was super laid back, super understanding. He didn't deserve the ending he got. He actually had a purpose on this earth, unlike me.

I was always the insecure one, the one with the heavy weight on my shoulders. He was Mr. Perfect, and had every right to be. I always felt like an outcast compared to him.

My eyes move back to my diary entry. I didn't mention how sad I am or how much my parents annoy me due to their lack of empathy. That's something, right?

I slowly rise from my usual spot on the ground and neatly place my diary back into my bag. "See you tomorrow, Hunt." I mutter while lifting up my bike.

Swinging my leg over the seat, I hop onto my transportation and pedal home. I think I see a tiny speck of sun peeking through the gray clouds, but it's just my sad orbs deceiving me. The ride home is usually peaceful, but today I have such an uneasy feeling.

My mind keeps drifting back to my new neighbor. Why was he staring at me last night? Well, I was staring at him before that, but I looked away. He had no shame. It was the most intense eye contact I have ever made.

I'm really antisocial and awkward around boys. That's another thing Hunter helped me with. He always taught me to be confident, to take charge and be a 'woman.' Even though he was extremely overprotective, he always wanted me to be bold around my crushes.

I wonder what he would think about window creep. He would probably tell him to stop staring at his sister from such a distance. I doubt I'll even talk to this mysterious boy, anyway. I don't want to talk to anyone at all.

The minute I turn onto my block, my eyes grow wide. My mother is across the street, talking to Linda's grandson. Not window creep, but the other one. Shit, I definitely don't want her to make a scene.

I get off the bike and try to hurry inside, but it's too late. My mother immediately catches a glimpse of my brown ponytail. Whenever I don't feel like dealing with my long locks, I throw it up into a ponytail and call it a day.

"Hope!" Her cheery voice calls out. I hate that cheery voice. Turning my body, I make eye contact with her. She's smiling and waving her hand, gesturing for me to walk over there. "Come say hello, I was just talking about you."

I grit my teeth as my stomach does ten backflips. My heart pumps against my chest as I slowly walk across the street. The boy's eyes are glued to me with the smallest smirk curving his lips.

"This is my daughter, Hope. The one I was telling you about." My mother places her hands on my shoulders. I feel like a kindergartener being introduced to the teacher on the first day of school.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Ethan." He extends his hand out while eyeing me.

I lean forward and grab onto his hand, shaking it with a light force. "Nice to meet you." I shortly repeat.

"I heard you just graduated high school, congrats." He says while pulling his hand away.

I shoot my mother daggers, but she seems unfazed. Did she tell him my entire life story? She probably forgot to mention the part where I'm highly depressed and mourning the loss of my brother.

"Yeah, thanks." I mumble, not knowing what else to say.

"I'm going to work on the garden, I think I see the sun coming out." My delirious mother looks up before sending Ethan a friendly smile. "It was great to meet you, Ethan."

"Likewise." He shoves his hands into the pockets of his dark denim jeans.

The awkwardness floods my core as I clear my throat, not knowing what to do next. We met, that should be enough. I know my mother is praying that I make some friends, but this isn't how.

"So, you're eighteen?" He blurts out.

"Yeah, how old are you?" I manage to say.

"Nineteen." He shrugs.

Okay? Thanks for letting me know? My eyes finally move up to look into his, and I'm taken back. He's really good looking. Nice styled hair, dark brown eyes, an intense jawline. I quickly look down at my shoes, even though he already caught me staring.

"Your mom mentioned that she checks in on my grandma." He says with a light chuckle.

"Yeah, she does." I confirm with a nod.

"That's sweet. I know she's lonely, since my grandpa passed away."

Linda has been living across the street from me for about ten years now. Her and her husband used to go walking up and down the block while Hunter and I played kickball in the street.

There has never once been a mention of her having any other family. Since Ethan and his brother are older than me but younger than Hunter, I feel like she would have spoken up about it.

"Where are you from?" I ask, which surprises him and myself.

"New Jersey. My parents thought it would be good for my brother and I to spend some time here." His voice trails off as he scratches the back of his neck.

If there's one talent I have, it's reading people. The way he shifts from foot to foot and looks down at the driveway is a clear indication that he's lying or not telling the whole truth.

"Well, you're out of luck. This is the most boring town in the country." I cross my arms over my chest and look up at him.

"Is that so?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Yup, there's nothing to do. The beach is pretty much a no go and it rains all the time. It's depressing."

"I see. Your mother mentioned that you occasionally sneak off on your bike." He nods toward my house. "Clearly there must be something to do." Another smirk paints his face.

"That's none of you nor my mother's business." I automatically snap.

"Damn, I'm sorry." He immediately throws his hands up in defense. "I was just teasing."

My eyes shift toward the upstairs window. I don't see the mystery man in sight. "You said you have a brother." I play dumb.

"A twin brother." He corrects.

"Cool." I flatly respond.

"He's mad that we're spending the summer here and not with our friends in Jersey." He slowly elaborates while staring directly at me.

I nod, gradually taking a step back. "I should get inside."

"Well, if you ever want to hang out you know where to find me." There's a hint of flirtation in his voice.

I politely smile before turning and walking toward my house. The bike is still sitting in the driveway, so I bring it into the garage. A low sigh escapes my lips once I enter my house. It's quiet, almost too quiet.

"There she is." My father's deep voice calls from the kitchen.

"Hi." I simply greet.

"Your mother is outside, working in the garden. You should go help her." He nods his head toward the back door.

My mother has this obsession with her garden. She only plants roses because they're her favorite. That seems to be everyone's go-to answer.

Mine is a sunflower. Hunter was the only person who remembered. He brought me a bouquet of them on my seventeenth birthday. Little did I know it was my last birthday with him alive.

"Maybe later." I stammer before running up the steps. My father calls out to me again, but I ignore him. I need to be alone right now.

A waterfall of tears drip from my eyes. After shutting and locking my door, I slip my shoes off and pace around my room. My cries get louder and louder as my heart shatters in my chest. I can't take this pain anymore.

I sit down in my bay window, desperately needing to have that safe feeling in my core. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I continue to softly cry.

While leaning my head against the window, my eyes move across the street. Every muscle in my body stops functioning when I'm met with him. Window creep. He's wearing a white hoodie, with the hood placed on top of his head. He's staring at me through the glass, just like he did last night.

I tilt my head and furrow my eyebrows, quickly wiping away some of my tears. My entire face is red from my crying mess. I can't make out his expression from here, but he looks confused. He has no business spying on me.

I rise to my feet and go to close the blinds. He notices this action and quickly moves away from the window. A pit of nerves hit my stomach as I stare at the empty space across from me.

Sighing, I close the blinds anyway and lie down on my bed. I want to continue grieving, and I don't need some creep staring at me as I do it.