“You know I’m totally kicking your ass in here, Schroder,” Joe called out, swiftly maneuvering his thumbs around the Xbox controller.

“Dude, I told you to pause it while I was grabbing snacks,” Schroder objected, appearing in the doorway.

“Did you? Oops, now you’re dead,” Joe replied smugly as Schroder swore angrily and flopped down on the floor next to Joe, wiping his hair off his sweaty forehead before grabbing the other controller.

“Now I’m going to kick your ass, you fucking douche bag,” Schroder announced, fixating eagerly on the TV screen. “The only reason you didn’t pause the game is because you know I kick total fucking ass in Halo, and that was the only way you were ever going to beat me.” Sure enough, less than a minute later, Joe was dead.

“Go to hell,” Joe said, not without some good humor.

“You first,” Schroder said, smirking. “Hey, man, did you hear that?” He asked abruptly, looking towards the covered window.

“What?” Joe asked, uninterested.

“Sounded like someone shouting- dude, there’s a new family moving in next door to your house,” Schroder announced, peering through the window shades, and Joe reluctantly pulled himself up off his bedroom floor to go look. Movers were busily carrying boxes into the next-door suburban house, with an impeccably dressed, militaristic man ordering them about. A frail-looking woman was fluttering about next him- “Lucky you, Sergeant Shit-face and his wife have moved in next door,” Schroder snorted, and Joe rolled his eyes in agreement.

Suddenly Joe’s attention was drawn to a teenaged girl stepping out of the house. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she walked, at a casual pace, up towards the moving truck. He couldn’t quite tell, due to the distance between them, if she was very pretty or not- but there was something about her- something in the way she walked, the way she carried herself so casually yet so gracefully, that struck him and held his attention. “Holy fucking shit,” he said softly.

“What?” Schroder asked with little interest.

“See that girl?” Joe said, not looking away as she bent towards the van and pulled out one of the boxes.

“Yeah, she’s okay, I guess. I’d give her a four, but I can’t really tell from here,” Schroder said disinterestedly, referring to the ten-point system he and Joe used to rate girls.

“A four? A four?!” Joe spluttered, growing heated. “Dude, she’s at least a fucking seven- and that’s without hardly being able to see her face! A four- Jesus fucking Christ, man-”

“Okay, okay, chill out, Joe,” Schroder interrupted uneasily. “No need to get your balls in a knot…” After an awkward pause, he asked, “D’you think she’ll go to our school?”

“Course, why wouldn’t she?” Joe asked, turning back towards the window.

“Well, you never know, she could be one of those snobby private school kids-”

“She’s not,” Joe said vehemently, watching her head back into the house. “I can tell.”

The bedroom door creaked open, and Schroder and Joe spun away from the window guiltily to face Joe’s mother standing in the doorway.

“I see you’ve spotted our new neighbors- why don’t you boys turn a light on in here? Honestly, with all the shades pulled down like that, I don’t know how you can see anything,” she said, flicking on the light switch, the light causing the boys to flitch instinctively. “Anyway, your mother just called, Stephen, and she wants you to go home now,” she continued, and Schroder sighed heavily.

“Thanks, Ms. C,” he replied, grabbing his bag off the floor. “See you in school on Monday,” Schroder called over his shoulder.

“See you,” Joe called back halfheartedly, waiting eagerly for his mother to leave so that he could look back out the window at the girl.

“I was thinking that I could bake some cookies or a casserole or something for the new neighbors and then we could take that over tomorrow evening,” his mother continued.

“Why not today?” Joe asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“I’m sure they’ll be busy unpacking all of tonight,” she replied reasonably. “Why the rush?”

“No reason,” he said defensively. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”

“Okay,” she said, after a slight pause. “Do you have all your homework done, by the way?” Joe nodded. “Alright- and dinner will be ready at five, alright?” He nodded again, and she quietly left his room, closing the door behind her. He quickly turned back towards the window, peering through the shades eagerly- but the girl had already disappeared back inside the house. Disappointed, he fell back onto his bed and realized that his hands were trembling- something that usually only happened when he played online games until four in the morning or when he drank more than four cups of coffee at a time. He stared at the death metal posters on his ceiling, unable to get the girl- my new neighbor, he thought with quivering excitement- out of his mind.

---

I sighed wearily, looking around my new room. It was bigger than my old one, for sure- the whole townhouse, in fact, was bigger than our old Chicago apartment. There were plenty of windows in the room as well- two of the walls had a few windows, with a third wall completely consumed by a large bay window complete with window seat, and skylights that let sunshine stream merrily through the ceiling. All the sunshine was comforting, but I resolved to get curtains for the bay window, which faced the street- even though my room was on the second floor, I still didn’t want to risk pedestrians being able to see me from the street.

The house was rather admirable, I had to admit- located in the outskirts of Washington, DC, its large porch and brick sides were traits common to the surrounding houses, but at the same time was charming and unique. I smiled a bit to myself, looking out my window down at the boxwoods lining our property- Maybe DC will be better than Chicago, in more ways than-

Downstairs, something suddenly shattered, and Dad’s angry shouts echoed up through the doorway. I shut my door, then pulled my radio out of one of the boxes and turned up the volume as I began to unpack my belongings.

Dinner was a quiet affair at a nearby family-run restaurant, filled with people who were obviously the locals and regulars. Mom spent most of the evening trying to quietly start a conversation, with Dad giving curt replies that cut the possibilities of conversation short. She eventually gave up, and we ate in silence until Dad excused himself from the table and went to the bathroom.

Mom reached across the table for the pepper, her sleeve pulling back a bit to reveal-

“Mom,” I said softly, quickly catching her wrist. She winced as I tugged her sleeve back to expose a fresh bruise that was just starting to turn a sickly shade of purple. “Oh, Mom,” I said compassionately, and she quietly tugged her wrist out of my hand.

“Don’t ‘Oh, Mom’ me, Eleana,” she replied quietly, pulling her sleeve back down past her wrist. “It’s my own fault, really, I shattered one of his collectible plates, and you know how your father -”

“Mom, it’s not your fault,” I insisted. “You shouldn’t be getting beat up over a stupid plate, honestly-”

“Eleana,” she said firmly, with a tone that clearly told me to abandon the topic. I slouched back in my seat, frustrated. “Sit up properly please, your father’s coming back to the table,” she scolded gently, and I sat up straight as Dad returned.

“I see you’re all done eating,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I already paid the check up at the bar, so we can leave now.” Mom gracefully stood from the table and pushed her chair in, hurrying to catch up with Dad as he strode from the restaurant. I tagged along behind them, fairly convinced that this change of location would do nothing to change Dad’s habits.