Until You

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My name is Jared.

My name is Jared.

My name is Jared.

I kept repeating it over and over again, trying to get my heart to stop beating so fast. I wanted to go and meet our new neighbors, but I was nervous.

There was a kid living next door now—probably ten years old like me—and I’d smiled when I saw that she wore baseballs caps and Chucks. Other girls in my neighborhood didn’t dress like that, and she was pretty, too.

I leaned on my windowsill, checking out the house next door, alive with music and light. No one had lived there for a long time, and even before then it was just old people.

A big tree stood between our houses, but I could still see through the green leaves.

“Hey, sweetie.”

I turned my head to see my mom leaning on my bedroom doorframe. She was smiling, but her eyes were teary, and her clothes were wrinkly.

She was sick again. She got sick whenever she drank the bottle drinks.

“I saw that we have new neighbors,” she continued. “Did you meet them?”

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