GRAYSON PERTH

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Emily fascinated me, that was one thing. She was amazing. I mean, who else in the entire world has collected over 5,367 snowglobes and was the nicest person I've ever met and just so happened to be so pretty? Emily Wilson, that's who.

Once we got to know each other a little bit more throughout that day, I learned that she was sarcastic, funny, and organized.

We now sit on the bus together. I was secretly overjoyed that we were on the same bus.

"So, which neighborhood do you live in?" She asked.

"Stonehead," I said. She smiled.

"Me, too. Which house did you move into?"

"17554."

"Hey, that's right across from my house!" I smiled, once again happy that I had yet another excuse to spend time with her.

I could hear the boys behind us making jokes about me.

Emily turned around and yelled at them, then turned back around as if nothing at all had happened.

When the bus stopped, we both hopped off together.

We came to the fork between our two houses, then split ways, waving goodbye to one another as we left.

My mother held the door open, waiting for me.

"Who was that?" she asked in her faintly accented English.

"That's Emily. She's showing me around."

"She's cute," my mother says, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

I blush like a tomato. "Moooom," I groan.

She laughs. "I'm just joking. Come on, I made dinner. Daddy is already home. Was everyone nice?"

I thought for a moment. "No."