Are You Listening?

I have never been “that girl”. You know the one- tall, beautiful, thin. I’m the “funny” one or the “smart” one. One of the guys they used to say. And I became used to it. That was until HE moved in next door. I was about seven and he was eight. I wanted nothing more than to go talk to him, make a new friend. But I was paralyzed. I know, I know, at seven years old? But it’s true! His beautiful brown eyes and long blond hair had me weak in the knees and I knew he’d never want to be friends with me. After his family had been in the house about two weeks, my mother insisted we go introduce ourselves. So I was told to put on a clean shirt and brush my hair as she wrangled my brother to go meet the neighbors. I will never forget that day: time seemed to go in slow motion as we strolled up their walk and my mom rang the doorbell. Within seconds a pretty blond lady opened the door with a smile. I barely listened as they did introductions, my stomach was in knots as I tried to casually look for HIM. We were invited inside as Diana, the blond woman, took the pie from my mother.

Dakota, my younger brother, clung to my mom as we entered their home. I realized then that this boy had siblings. Their home was much different than ours, not necessarily in size or structure, but I could tell the difference. “This is my husband, Walker,” the pretty lady said, tapping a dark-haired man on the shoulder. “Honey, this is our neighbor- Grace.”

“Nice to meet you,” he replied, shaking my mom’s hand. “And who are these two little sweethearts?” he asked warmly. I liked him immediately.

“Oh this is my son, Dakota- he’s four,” mom replied, bouncing my brother on her hip. “And this is my seven year old, Cheyenne… we call her Chey.”

“Seven eh? I have a boy about your age,” Walker stated, standing back up. “Boys!” he yelled, startling me. Suddenly a whirlwind of energy and blond hair came flying into the kitchen where we were standing. “Boys, these are our neighbors- Grace, Chey and Dakota.” The three boys mumbled their hellos and kind of stared at the floor. “Where’s your sister?”

“Jessie is watching cartoons in the basement,” the blondest boy replied. He, unlike the other two, had sparkling blue eyes. He was also very cute.

“Oh ok, well, this is our clan- Isaac is our oldest, he is thirteen,” Walker said, standing behind his kids and pointing out each child as he spoke. “This is Taylor, he’s ten. And this hyperactive little weirdo is Zac- he’s eight. We have two daughters: Jessie, who is four and Avery, our two year old baby girl.”

“Wow,” my mom replied. “Five kids? I cant even imagine. These two drive me crazy as it is!”

With a slight laugh Diana replied, “It does get to be a bit much sometimes but I came from a big family and always wanted a big family of my own. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes please,” my mother accepted graciously.

“Boys, why don’t you take your new friends out back to play?” Walker suggested.

“Chey, take your brother and go play with your new friends.” And the parents went into their pleasantries as my brother and I were left to stand defenseless with these strange new kids. And I couldn’t even talk if I looked at Zac. Regardless my sibling and I followed our new neighbors to their back yard. When we got there, we were aghast at all they things they had. Dakota immediately ran to their swing set and I was in awe of their tree house.

“Pretty sweet huh?” came a voice from my left. “I asked Dad for years to get it for us.” It was Zac. Gulp.

“We could never afford anything like this,” I admitted shyly.

“Did your dad tell you no?”

“My dad left when I was four.”

“Oh.” I think I took him by surprise. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Its not your fault. Besides, I’m over it.”

“Wanna go up in it with me?” he offered, holding out his hand. I melted on the inside as I put my hand in his and followed him up the tree. As we situated ourselves on pillows, he grabbed a Dr. Pepper out of a cooler and handed it to me. “Want to hear a secret?” he asked, sitting down beside me. I nodded, noticing how close he was. “I come up here when I need an escape. When I’m sad, or angry, or need to write, I come here. From now on, you can come here too.”

“You write?”

“Mmhmm, I write songs. We all do.”

“Wow. I try to write stories sometimes. And I love to read.”

“So do I!” he confessed with an enthusiastic smile.”I think we’re going to be best friends.”

“Why? Just because we both like to read?” I asked, a bit too harshly.

“Not just that,” he retorted. “I like you. I get a good feeling when you’re here.” He smiled at me and lay back on his pillow, inviting me to lay with him. I hesitantly curled up beside him and laid my head on his shoulder. And I knew my world was changing. If only I had known how much.