I stare blankly out my upstairs bedroom window, spaced out. My trance is suddenly disrupted by the sound of a truck backing up into the driveway next door. A U-haul truck, someone's moved in. That house has been empty for as long as I can remember, I want to go meet them. I slip on my shoes  and slowly walk through the hallway and down the stairs to find my mom sitting on the sofa. She's wrapped in a oversized knit sweater and is clutching a large mug of tea. I watch a tear slip down her cheek, and I understand how the nostalgia and memories are overwhelming her brain, much like how they're overwhelming mine. I still do remember the day, and it makes me sad to remember, so I try to forget as much as possible. Another tear makes its way down my mother's face and I feel tears well up in my own eyes. Biting them back, I open my mouth to speak.

"I'm gonna... go say hi," I manage to hide my emotions. My mom nods, not moving her gaze from the house next door.

I make my way outside and to the house, where I spot two girls with they're backs towards me. Or at least I think they're girls. One is wearing a pink and purple flannel with the sleeves rolled up, strawberry blonde hair flowing over her shoulders. The other has really long legs. She's wearing combat boots accompanied by black skinny jeans and a dark hoodie. Her sleeves are pulled down over her palms, but I can see her hands are in fists. Her hair is fluffy and brown, and is pulled into a messy bun at the back of her head, she is a lot taller than who I'm assuming is her sister.

"Hi," I tap the shorter girl's shoulder awkwardly. They both turn around, the one I tapped in grinning, and the other's nose is pink and her eyes wet, reminding me of the tears waiting to spill out of my own eyes.

"I'm Zoe," the grinning girl reaches her hand out to mine, I accept her handshake and turn to her sister.

"Connor," he shoves his fists into his pockets, sniffling. So, he's a guy. Also, attractive as heck.

"I like your voice a lot, Connor," I stutter, shifting my gaze between his face and the truck behind him.

"It makes me dysphoric," he crosses his arms, glancing over his shoulder at the truck. He reaches one hand up to rub his eyes, then his nose. I feel like I should hug him, even though I've only just met him. His eyes return to the spot between his toes, he's glaring at the ground as if it just insulted him.

"Are you ok?" I stammer.

"No," he replies, quickly.

"That's okay," I say, peering into his eyes, which somehow mix brown and blue, and are still fixated at his toes. "Me neither." Connor's eyes raise to meet mine.

"Follow me," he says, I follow him, guilty for leaving Zoe outside alone. I follow him up a short flight of stairs and into a big, empty room. Well, almost empty. There's a box a little bit bigger than a shoe right next to the door that says Connor 3. "I got first dibs since I was the one who didn't want to move. I wanted to stay in my old house, at my old school, and with my old friends, where everyone accepted me as a guy."

"You are a guy," I assure him. "But, that's why you're crying."

"Yeah, mainly," he says, grabbing a bag of fun sized chocolates out of his box and lying down on the floor with his feet propped on the wall. "Why are you?"

I touch my fingers to my cheek and realize that I did start crying. I lay next to him, legs bent for fear of messing up his wall, and tell him about my messed up family, about my anxiety, about my broken arm, about my love for trees, about being bi, and about my life in general. I tell him things I've never told anyone. He tells me about being trans and not being allowed to start testosterone, and gay, and about his old friends, and his old house, and his old school. We lay there for hours, just talking and eating chocolate. It feels like we've been friends for forever.

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WOWZA another story. well, this is just going to be a short one, all fluff, kinda emotional, too. I don't know man I wrote this while waiting for something in my other fic... you'll see... you'll see ;)