yours.

[11] Miles

"Okay, okay, here's one," I start, grinning over at Jasper, who glares out at the road ahead of us.

"Fire away," he drawls.

"Aluminum."

He comes dangerously close to smiling. "You're so stupid."

I laugh. "Say it!" I tell him. "You have to say it."

"Al-oo-min-ee-yoom," he says quickly, rolling his eyes.

I cheer as our feline friend slinks out of the bushes to curl up on Jasper's lap. He pets her head idly, letting his eyes slide to me.

This game we've created, where I give Jasper a word to say in his fancy, foreign accent, has lasted a half-hour by now, and it's helped to cheer him up. I think. I can never really tell with him.

"Why is this so funny to you?" he asks me, his tone genuinely curious.

I shift on the concrete steps, and my muddy, white sneakers inch closer to his spotless black ones. "I don't know," I admit. "Your voice is just... cool, I guess."

He glances away, and I see his throat bob with a swallow. "Thanks," he says softly, looking down at the cat on his legs. "Yours isn't."

I pretend to be offended. "Wow. Okay, then."

"Give me another one," he adds after a moment.

I watch one of the street trees sway in the wind, its green leaves rustling softly. Then I say, "Renaissance."

"Re-nay-sonce."

I chuckle. "Advertisement?"

"That one's lame."

"Just say it."

"Ad-ver-tis-ment."

I turn to him, a long-wondered question rising to the surface. "Why are you British?"

Jasper is quiet for a long moment, then sighs, "Miles, what?"

"How are you British?"

He glances at me like I'm insane. "I was... born in England? I don't know what to tell you."

I try to explain. "No, I mean... how are you British and here?"

Jasper's lips quirk up, and I find my eyes drawn to them. "I moved to America from England."

Smile, I beg him silently. Please, just smile. "Okay, fair," I laugh. "But why?"

The beginnings of his smile drop away completely, and I feel my heart sink in my chest. Jasper's gaze locks on the cat's furry head, his fingers going still mid-stroke. I start to wonder if he plans on responding when he says, very softly, "New beginnings."

"What--"

"The States offered a chance for my family and me to start over," he continues, his voice dipping even lower. "Who were we to ignore it?"

Without reason, I shift a tiny bit closer to him. "Why did you need--"

"Can we talk about something else, please?" Jasper's voice rises again. He briefly meets my gaze, and I realize for the first time how close we're sitting. His brown eyes are just inches from mine, panic flitting through them before he turns back to the cat in his lap.

Shock jolts me out of my daze, and I swallow, unable to look away from him. What's going on with me?