It Takes Two.

S- The Nicest Kids In Town

I stop in my tracks, staring up at the old building across the street from me. Beautiful is not a good enough word to describe it. The bricks are perfectly aged and the history that it has is so vast, I couldn't even find all of it in the Google search I had fallen into late last night.

My parents had decided to leave the house early in order to get the event set up. Poster boards of pictures have been sitting around our house for almost two months now, and finally, they're getting their chance to shine. I had been watching as they were slowly covered from top to bottom in photos of my grandparents, and of their friends and family. I would study each photo carefully, constantly grabbing for my phone to search up the buildings in the back, the sets that they worked on, and the history that they had created. It was magical, and most nights I would fall asleep on the carpeted floors, staying up as late as I possibly could.

I look both ways before jogging across the street to the front door of the Baltimore Community Center. I pull open the doors, almost floating at the silence of this perfectly crafted building. The check-in table is uninhabited, so I skip right past it and up to the room that we're holding the celebration in. My mother and father are standing right in the middle of the room, admiring their work. The poster boards are hung on walls, lean on easels, and are placed on table tops, the sun from the massive windows spot lighting them. I walk up next to my mother, who grabs my shoulders and squeezes them proudly. Her locs are down today, usually tied up into a bun that sits on the top of her head. She wears her favorite purple dress, the one she's had for years. She shoots me a smile. I give her one back.

"Good, you wore the suit I told you to," My Dad chimes in. I looked down, the orange coat and tie that my father had given to me were maybe a size too big, but I felt very professional. I tell myself to get used to the feeling of a blazer and a button up. I will be wearing this often in the future.

The two of them leave the room to wait for the others to show up, but I decide to stay upstairs. My parents love to talk to people, so when they're around I let them get a chance to empty their social needs. They spend almost all day, everyday inside, just the two of them working on their adult contemporary novel series. I've never read it, but the reviews that they frame and hang on the walls of the house seem to find it life changing.

Suddenly, I hear the door downstairs open and voices tunnel into the room, which means that the first guests of many have arrived. I straighten my back, mess with my septum piercing, and then flash a smile as the guests roll in. Today is going to be good.

"And this is my son Sebastian." My Dad says, giving a tour of the building to the BLM group that has decided to attend today. I shake all seven hands that reach out and fist bump a child who can't be more than eight. She's wearing a leather jacket, and looks cooler than I ever have or ever will. I tell her she's awesome and she grabs the leg of who I presume to be her mother. They both smile at me. I've always been good at getting people to smile.

(Word Count: 618)