Oh my God, how could I not have noticed him before? He was gorgeous. I stared into his bright green eyes, only for him to turn away and seem to read my mind by saying, “Well, my parents say that we hung out a lot when we were little. That is, until your parents though I was a bad influence and padlocked the door that connects the two houses.”
“And why is it that you were considered ‘bad’?”
“I was too much fun. I climbed trees, surfed, sailed, sat on the roof, scubaed all by the age of five. They didn’t appreicate my fun lifestyle.”
“My parents for you,” I rolled my eyes dismissively. We sat in silence until I heard my mom call me in for dinner. I said good-bye to Brent and practically ran down to steps, hungry as I was.

But dinner was deathly silent. The only sound was the clatter of our forks on the plates as we ate. Then my mother quietly said, “Did you see the Brent boy? He has a lip ring now. I told you he was bad.” My lip quivered in slight anger from that statement.