song for the start of the chapter!

The tray of sweet chocolate cupcakes that I clung to be the only thing I forced myself to think about as mom and I walked down the road to get to our new neighbor's house. She chatted away the whole time about the trees in the neighborhood or something just as pointless. Unaware I was not paying attention to her, I forced a smile to my lips as I realized who we were visiting. 

Fear engulfed me as I looked at the same house I stopped at this morning. Questions filled my mind, wondering if the boy recognized me or if he called me out. If that happened, I could say goodbye to the rest of my free will. I bit my lip as I thought about how badly this could turn out. My feet stuck to the pavement, unwilling to continue, knowing I shouldn't have come with her.

"Come on Clare! We don't have all day!" she called out to me, already at the front door.

Well, it was too late to back out now. If I was lucky, maybe he wouldn't say anything or maybe he wouldn't even answer the door. With my head held high, I passed the for-sale sign and stopped beside my mother on the porch.

"This is it," she said with a smile, then knocked on the door.

"This is it," I replied. He was going to call me out, I knew it. 

We waited for a second until we heard voices on the other side of the door. "No, mom, I said I got it!" a voice called out from the other side. Instantly, the door opened to reveal a young man that I saw that same morning. Oh, he was better looking now than when I last saw him. His dark hair was curled and styled lightly and his light eyes stood out against his light skin tone. He leaned against the doorframe and smiled. Amusement played across his face as he recognized me. Shoot.

 "Why hello there, twice-"

I cut him off before he said anything more. "Hey, we're your neighbors from down the road. We wanted to welcome you into the neighborhood," I said, shoving the tray of cupcakes into his stomach with enough force that he had to take a step back.

Breaking us from this awkward moment was a woman who looked to be his mom, who walked to the door. She was a small lady, probably smaller than I was and I was only 5' 4". She had this thick, crazy curly dark hair and a bright smile that seemed to welcome me instantly. Her skin had a sun-kissed look, making it apparent that she spent a long amount of time outside. She looked like she loved life, something that I hadn't seen in a long while.

Mom spoke up. "I'm Tracy Atkins, and this is my daughter, Clare. I have a husband, Scott, and one other daughter but sadly they're busy and couldn't walk down to introduce themselves. We live right down the road from you, and we thought we should drop by and introduce ourselves. Welcome to the neighborhood."

"Hi," I said, and gave a small wave to her.

She beamed at us as if this was the most pleasant encounter she had in her life. "Hello. I'm Dorothy Smith and this is my son, Peter. My husband's in the office today, but his name's Robert. We're so happy to be welcomed into this neighborhood. When we found out that a house was for sale in this area, we had to get it. Something about this area felt like home and this just sealed the deal for me."

Peter nodded at us, but his eyes lingered on me causing me to shift on my feet, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Why was he staring at me? Did I brush my teeth? Did I have chocolate around my mouth? Didn't his mom tell him that staring was rude?

"Pleased to meet you. We'll not keep you long because I'm sure you're busy unpacking, but we wanted to invite you over for dinner tomorrow if you're not too busy," mom told them.

Shocked by this news, I shot my mom a look. She didn't tell me that she would do this. We never invited people over for dinner, let alone people we barely knew. This was not like her, and I wondered what possessed her to entertain this idea. 

Please say no.

This boy was making me uncomfortable. I would not want to have dinner with him since I could barely be with him for three minutes, let alone an hour or more.

"We would love that. We would love to get to know our neighbors better," Dorothy said excitedly. She smiled brightly, as if she really meant what she said.

Mom smiled back at her as if she talked to a close friend. "Great. If you have a piece of paper, I will write our address. Dinner will be at seven. Does that work for you?"

"Yeah. Give me a minute, let me get a piece of paper. You guys can step inside if you would like. Just excuse the mess," she said as she wandered back into the house to find what she was looking for.

We stepped in without another word as mom looked around inside the house, unable to contain her curiosity. However, the only thing I could look at was Peter, keeping my eyes on him as he stared back at me. There was something off about this boy, and I didn't know what. "So do you like music?" Peter asked me after a second.

"Yeah," I shrugged, trying to keep my answers as short as I could. What kind of stupid question was that? Of course, I like music. Everyone liked music.

"Do you play any instruments?" he probed.

What was this? 20 questions?

"Clare loves to play the piano," mom butted in.

I shot her a look. Thanks, mom.

"We just moved in our grand piano. Want to sit down and play for a few?" he suggested.

And this is when I could count on mom to wreck the plans. She would tell him no, that I had to get back home, where she could keep an eye on me.

But my mother was just full of surprises as she wrapped her arm around me and spoke up saying, "she would love that."

I gave her another look. She was crossing every boundary. What came over her? This was not acceptable. It didn't matter if I had never played a grand piano in my life, or that I hadn't played a tuned piano in over a year. The answer was no; I would not stay. I didn't want to be around him any longer, for many reasons.

"Have fun with it, Clare," mom whispered as she nudged me on the back.

He looked at me and moved his head to the side to show me where to go. "I'll show you the piano."

I shot her another dirty look, then looked back at him. This would not end until I played that stinking piano. I sighed and followed him into the huge vaulted family room. Sitting in the middle of the room was this beautiful grand piano. I stood in front of the piano and just stared at it. I was afraid that if I touched it, it would break. I always broke things, my body included.

He sat down and played a few chords. The entire room rung out with the sweet sound. After a minute he stopped and got up from the bench he was sitting on. I continued to stare at this lovely craftsmanship of wood and metal in front of me.

"Clare! I'm leaving! I will see you at the house!" mom called out to me from the hall.

I nodded at her and said, "see you." I watched her leave the house, surprised that she wasn't taking me with her. She must not feel well because this normally never happened.

Finally, Peter turned to me and chuckled. "Are you going to play it?"

I shook my head. I couldn't possibly be allowed to touch such a beautiful thing. Everything I touched just broke, if he knew that, he wouldn't want me to play. "I, um, I don't know. Can I?"

He laughed again. His laugh was deep, sounding as beautiful as a chord that he played. "I wouldn't have invited you in if I didn't want you to play it."

I sat down at the bench and put my hands on the keys. They were cold to the touch, causing me to shiver. I felt his eyes on me as I took a deep breath. Then, without wasting a moment, I played, letting my fingers glide against the keys as muscle memory took hold.

The song was simple, but I carefully listened to the sweet sound that this piano made. It sounded so much better on this than my small upright piano back home. The notes echoed against the walls. It was breathtaking. As the song came to a close, I lifted my hands from the piano. I gave a small smile towards Peter. The smile was more towards the sound I just made than towards him.

He had this huge grin on his face. "That was beautiful."

I shrugged. I would be honest, I wasn't amazing at the instrument, but at least I could read music. "It was nothing."

"No, it wasn't. Please, play another one."

I turned back to the piano and thought about what to play. Quickly, I started playing a harder song. I looked back and forth between my two hands to make sure not to fat-finger a key. In the middle of it, I got dizzy, my vision blurred, and the world spun.

Panic rose through me. No, not now, please. Unable to keep up the facade, I dropped my hands on the piano, making a loud sound. I pinched the bridge of my nose to stop the spinning, but it didn't work.

"Are you ok?" Peter asked with concern.

I nodded through closed eyes, knowing that I had to cover this. He was new to the town. He didn't know me or what I had. With a deep breath, I opened my eyes and turned to face him. "Yeah, sorry about that. I don't have that ending worked out yet," I lied.

I was good at lying. I lied so often that people just believed me. By now I knew that lying was better than telling the truth. I rarely liked telling the truth, not because I enjoyed lying, but because I believed it was better to tell a small innocent lie than to tell the painfully blunt truth.

He shrugged, taking that as the answer. "No problem. So how many years have you been playing piano?"

"Maybe 10?" I said as I lightly tapped one of the piano keys, making a small sound come from the instrument. "How long have you been playing?"

"About four. I stopped taking lessons last month because we were moving here. I want to start back up again though."

"Why did you move?" I blurted out. I quickly shut my mouth, thinking that it probably wasn't the politest thing to ask. After all, I just met him today.

He laughed, then shook his head as if it was funny. "Clare, you're something else. It's fine, I don't mind answering your questions. We just moved because it is closer to my dad's work. Before you ask me what he does I will tell you, he has a very exciting job as a lawyer. Now I want to ask you a question."

I swallowed as I braced myself for anything that he could want to know. Like he was a blank canvas to me, I was the same towards him. We were both unwritten stories that were itching to be told.

"Why were you shouting at the road this morning on our lawn?"

And this was the question I was expecting to hear from him. I looked at him seriously, knowing that I had a good cover-up. "That wasn't me," I lied. Ok, I would be honest, it wasn't a great cover-up, but it was the best I could come up with.

He rose one eyebrow at me then gave me a look that said, 'yeah sure.' "Ok. And there must be loads of beautiful, extremely short blonde-haired girls living this neighborhood."

I raised my eyebrows, taken back by his response. He thought I was beautiful? The sickly girl that I was, beautiful? He had to be lying, just like I was to him. "I just got a bit tired and frustrated. So I sat down on the lawn," I confessed.

"And you just shout out for fun?"

I shrugged, as if the answer was simple. "Don't you?" It was a simple enough question.

He shook his head while laughing. He laughed so easily. I hadn't heard so much laughter in a short time as I did while I was here with him. It was refreshing to hear such happiness in his voice. I knew my family tried to be happy, but they weren't like this. This was different. It was natural, not forced, as if he hadn't tasted sorrow in his life. "You're so different from all the other girls I have met."

Not liking that comment, I frowned at him. I strived to be normal, so why was I so different? I didn't try to be.

"No, don't worry, it's a good thing," he said, as if reading my mind, coving up his slip.

I nodded, although I didn't believe him.

We continued to talk as my nerves towards him subsided. I quickly realized that he wasn't a creeper as I thought. He seemed like a normal high school boy, however I hadn't had a lot of experience with them, so talking to him at first felt abnormal to me.

I looked at the time on my phone. I had been here for over an hour and if I stayed any longer, my parents would worry. I had to go.

Breaking Peter from his story about moving, I got up from the bench I was sitting on. He stopped the story with a frown as he waited for a response from me.

"I have to go. But I'm sure I'll see you soon," I stated, knowing that dinner with his family was coming up tomorrow.

"Oh, I promise you that much," he replied with a smile as he got up from the box he was sitting on. "Here, let me see you out."

I followed him through the hall to the front door. "Thanks for letting me play the piano. It was enjoyable." I couldn't remember the last time that I had fun like that. It had been months. Honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I left the house for more than an hour outside of hospital visits.

"Thanks for staying. I was glad you got to play." There was a minute of silence as he stood at the doorway with me. I looked at him, wondering why he was still out here with me. "Can I um, can I walk you home?" he asked, breaking the silence. He shifted on his feet as he suddenly looked nervous.

I looked him right in his blue eyes with a frown. "Why would you do that?" I retorted, taking offence at this question. I was perfectly capable of walking home alone. My mom must have put him up to this. She never wanted to go anywhere on my own.

"Just because I want to get to know you more."

I held myself from rolling my eyes at him, convinced that was a lie. If only he knew what really made me tick. Cancer, that was what made me different. If I told him, he would see me as the damaged, fragile person who everyone else saw when they looked at me. But he could never know the truth because I never wanted him to see me that way. If we became friends, I would do all in my power to keep him from knowing. "I guess you can," I said finally.

He smiled widely at me. I didn't think I ever met someone so happy as him; it made me wonder what was in his life that made him so happy? I felt a twinge of jealousy raise within me, wanting what he had.

As we walked down the road, I felt like I was in another round of 20 questions. His questions went flying like grenades'. "What grade are you in?" he asked as we walked down the road to my house.

"I have one more test to take, then I'm officially a senior," I said proudly as I felt the sun beat against my back.

"Congrats."

I nodded. It was an accomplishment, but not because I would move on to the next grade, but because I made it alive on this earth for this long. "How about you? What grade are you in and how old are you?" I asked him, trying to be polite but finding myself wanting to know more about him at the same time.

"I'm a senior this coming year as well. So do you like this school?"

I shrugged. As if I would know. I hadn't been to a public school for about two years. My parents pulled me out when I got really sick. "I wouldn't know. I'm homeschooled. But I know that their football team's crap. Their track team's good though," I told him honestly, knowing that there was no way to lie about this. Once school started in two months, he would realize that I wasn't attending.

"Why are you homeschooled?" he asked.

I bit on my lip, trying to find an appropriate answer for his question. I looked up at the two story light blue house in front of me, knowing that I could stop the conversation here since I was home. "Save that question for when I see you next." I gave him a small smile. "This is me."

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"I'll be here. After all, it's my house."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks for letting me walk you home."

I nodded at him. I don't think I had much of a choice. "No problem," I said as I walked up the driveway. I got to the front step and gave one last look back at him, standing still at the foot of the drive, waiting for me to walk into the house. He smiled with a wave and I returned the wave, then walked into the house.

I closed the door and smiled to myself as I thought about our conversations that we just had. This was the first conversation that I had with someone my age in months, and I liked it. I realized how cut off I was without having people to talk to. He was funny, kind, cute and I think I liked him.

I think I wanted to spend more time with him and because he was new, I could start with a blank slate. He would never need to know about my health. Everyone else in this town knew about me, but him, he didn't. I could remain the girl from down the road that was healthy, and I liked that the most.

"What's that smile for?" Farrah asked me as she walked down the stairs.

"Nothing," I replied quickly, knowing that she would spill my exciting news to our parents before I thought about telling them myself.

She smiled widely at me. "Is it because of a boy?"

I looked at her right into her light green eyes, knowing that I couldn't hide this from her. She always had a way of reading my mind. That was something I loved and hated about her. "Don't you dare tell anyone," I threatened, not wanting my parents to know because they would get involved.

She wasn't good at keeping secrets, but I hoped that just this one time she would be. She nodded. "Ok. Sure I won't tell but you have to tell me all about it."

"Deal."

"Clare, is that you?" I heard my mom shout out from somewhere in the house.

"Yeah it's me," I called back to her.

"How was it?" she asked as she rounded the corner.

I shrugged, trying to pretend it was nothing special. "It was ok. He has a nice piano."