Ari remembered the boy with the amber from her childhood. The boy lived down the street from her house. She remembered how different their houses seemed.
The boy's house seemed lively and with two other siblings, there always seemed to be someone playing outside. Ari remembered how they left their bikes and scooters and skateboards out on the lawn overnight—something Hoelyn knew her parents would never stand for. She remembered how the boy's house would sometimes still be decorated with Christmas lights until Valentines day or Halloween decorations when it was Thanksgiving, even when all the other holiday decorations along the street were taken down. Ari found herself thinking that her parents probably didn't approve of the new neighbors in general.
But the house looked so. . . lived in. Unlike most of the houses on her street—Hoelyn's included—that seemed like they were just for decoration, not even a car in the driveway or rose bush out of place. Ari found herself almost a little jealous that she didn't live in the house that seemed much more like a home then her's ever did.
She would watch out her window sometimes as the amber-eyed girl would play with his siblings. Usually some type of tag or hide-and-seek. Sometimes they would stay out playing until it was sunset.
The first time she'd gotten an up close look at the boy was when she had to be about seven or eight. It was a few weeks after the boy's family moved in and Hoelyn was riding her bike down the street and as she rode she happened to pass by the boy's house. She was playing with a slightly younger girl who Ari has to assume was his sister and they were throwing a ball around.
As Ari petaled by, the ball flew over her, just missing her head and into the street, Hoelyn stopped in her tracks. The amber-eyed girl yelled an apology as he ran after the toy and when he turned around, he gave Ari a bright, toothy grin—considering her two front teeth were missing. His dark and short brunette hair shown with hints of red in the sunlight, his amber eyes standing out vibrantly and Ari found herself smiling back at the boy before he returned back to where his sister was.
That was the last interaction she had with that boy with the amber eyes for years. Her family was private, they didn't go to neighborhood barbecues, local book clubs, or any social gatherings for that matter. Hoelyn didn't even remember them talking to any of their neighbors unless it was a small smile and wave from their car as they passed by—but Ari got the feeling that was just to keep their imagine up as nice people instead of out of kindness.
Ari found herself wishing—in vein—that her parents would introduce themselves to the new family, bringing her along with them so she could finally meet the amber-eyed boy formally.
Though it wasn't even two years later when Ari woke up one morning to a moving van pulled up to the amber-eyed boy's house. The back of the truck was open, half of it packed with boxes and furniture already.
Ari stretched her neck as she sat in the back of her mother's car on their way to school, trying to keep the house in sight for as long as possible—maybe even to hopefully catch a glimpse of the boy with amber eyes. But no. The car turned the corner, house out of view, no sign of the amber-eyed girl.
When Ari got home from school the moving van was gone. So was the boy.
Ari found herself wondering later if she would've felt better if she'd actually known him or not. But her parents always said there was no use dwelling on the past, so Ari didn't. Or at least, she tried not to.
Sometimes she found herself zoning out in class or sitting up at night, wondering where the amber-eyed boy was now. Where had he moved to? Was it close or far away? Was the town big or small? Was he happy moving or did he want to come back?
