The next morning, my mom asked why I’d gone through two bottles of hand soap.
“I needed to wash off fear,” I told her.
She blinked. “That’s not a thing.”
“It is when an elderly man crawls toward you like a haunted Roomba,” I said, grabbing the cereal box like it could protect me.
From the living room, Nancy called, “Jocelyn! Tell her we’re having character development!”
My mom stared at me.
I stared at my cereal.
“This,” I said softly, “is why I keep my bathroom door locked.”
"Hey, Nance," I sigh. "What sort of trauma are we 'gonna go through today?"
Nancy smiled, with light glaring off of her perfectly white teeth. "We've got to meet the new neighbors!"
"New neighbors?" I ask, looking at her with my eyes half-open and my arms crossed.
"Yeah, we're going to the Williams' new house and give them the cookies my mom baked!" Nancy beamed, pulling me out the door with her. "Come on, Jocelyn, they even have a boy about our age!"
I felt like protesting, but you know Nancy. It's not like I had a choice anyways, so I just shrugged and let her drag me on today's "Character Development" adventure.
Plus, we weren't going to that neighborhood, so maybe today won't remind me of yesterday.
The Williams’ house sat two doors down from ours, all fresh paint and “new people smell.” You know that look a house gets when it’s been scrubbed so hard it starts pretending it never had dust in its life? That.
Nancy marched up the walkway like she owned the property.
I trailed behind with the cookie tin in my hands, because apparently I was the designated offering.
“Try not to say anything that makes us sound like we’re scouting them,” I muttered.
Nancy didn’t even turn around. “We are scouting them.”
“That’s—” I hissed. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
"Anyways," Nancy started, changing the subject. "Their son that's around our age, William's-"
"Wait, I thought 'Williams' was his last name," I ask.
"Yeah, it is," Nancy answers.
"So his name is 'William Williams'?" I ask skeptically.
"Yep," Nancy nods her head, raising her eyebrows. "But don't bring that up, I heard he gets really sensitive about that."
She rang the doorbell twice, because once is for polite people and Nancy considers politeness a suggestion.
The door opened almost immediately.
A woman stood there wearing an apron dusted with flour like she’d been in a baking battle. Her smile was wide, but her eyes did that quick scan thing—cookie tin, Nancy’s eager face, me looking like I’d rather be put in a recycling bin.
“Hi!” Nancy chirped before the woman could say anything. “We’re your neighbors. I’m Nancy Castillo and this is Jocelyn Barrett and my mom baked you cookies as a welcome gift.”
The woman’s smile softened. “That is incredibly sweet. I’m Mrs. Williams, but you can call me Diana."
Suddenly, a boy in a t-shirt, jeans, and what looked like a cricket sports cap walked by, behind Diana. He stopped and waved once he saw Nancy and me.
"Honey, these are our new locals!" Diana had told the boy.
"Oh hey, you're William, right?" I asked the boy.
"Yeah," the boy responded. "But everyone calls me Liam."
Now that I could see Liam's face, I could see that he had a calm expression. Not like monotone, but more like the guy who would ask "who wants marshmallows?" while the world's burning down.
Diana took the cookie tin like it was something precious instead of something her new neighbors had shoved into her hands as a peace offering.
“Thank you,” she said again, and this time it sounded like she meant it. “Seriously. Moving is… a lot.”
Nancy nodded like she was some experienced professional in the field of Being New.
“Totally,” she said. “We can help. I’m basically an expert at neighborhoods.”
I gave a tiny wave. “And I’m basically an expert at… leaving early.”
Diana laughed—an actual laugh, not the polite kind adults keep in their pockets for emergencies. “Fair. I won’t keep you. But you two should come by another day,” she added, glancing back toward the hallway like she was making sure Liam was still somewhere in the house and not escaping through a vent.
“Any day,” Nancy said immediately.
“Maybe not any day,” I muttered.
Diana’s smile widened. “How about this weekend? Liam’s still getting settled, but I think he’d like having someone his age around.”
Liam had lingered a few feet behind her, calm as ever, like the whole concept of people was happening to him in slow motion.
“Weekend,” Nancy confirmed, already mentally scheduling our next round of character development.
“Weekend,” I echoed, because apparently that’s what my life was now: agreeing to things I hadn’t emotionally prepared for.
Diana lifted a hand. “We’ll see you soon, then.”
Nancy waved like she was trying to communicate with satellites. I did a smaller one—human-sized.
ns216.73.217.115da2
and then Add to home screen.