Burrow

Friends

The next morning, I woke up energized by Mark showing me around. Maybe he wanted to hang out?

But he was just being a good neighbor, right?

No, he wanted to hang out. But what if he didn't and I got way embarrassed?

Oh well, I guessed there was only one way to find out. To roll out of my bed, go to his house, and find out.

Hey, I was never one to beat around the bush. That just led to more pain later. So I should ask now, and if he really was just showing us around out of obligation, it wouldn't simmer in my brain for that long.

So I ignored the drip that was soaking my feet, I ran right to my drawers to pick out the right outfit. It had to be casual...but still pretty. No baggy sweatpants for me.

I thought about wearing jean shorts.

No, he'll think I'm overly basic! My brain advised. Maybe a dress?

Desperate much?

I threw the dress back in the drawer as I didn't have a closet yet. It was pretty, with a cinched waist and a rich teal color. But my (annoying) brain was right. I couldn't be desperate. I just needed a normal outfit.

I picked out a casual black skirt and a nice casual lilac shirt with only a hint of lace. Was it still overkill? Or was it perfect. I asked my own brain. It was crazy, but then again, I was a Karter. We were all about crazy.

It's perfect for once, you desperate dummy, Nelly. But what's not perfect is how you braid your hair. Did you know it's lopsided? He won't find your hair attractive if it looks like the leaning tower of Pisa. Just-

"Oh, just shut up already!" I left on my new outfit, threw on some flats, lipgloss, and walked confidently out the door. If my brain thought I looked good, then I looked good.

Okay, okay. I was dressing up to meet a friend. But this particular guy was pretty handsome, I had to say.

I just went across the street, and though I bothered to watch for cars, I somehow knew that none would show. This street was deserted.

So, as I walked on the asphalt across the road, I wasn't surprised when the world was as silent as a rock. Nothing but trees out here, so different then California.

I knocked on their nice, neat door, that actually wasn't decomposing. The sound echoed, and as soon as I did it, I instantly regretted coming. This was crazy. If he wanted to hang, he would have said so yesterday. Wouldn't he?

Your hair, Nelly...

I shut myself up when a woman answered the door. She was a brunette, with a cheerful, freckled face, and she wore a cap with a picture of a ghost on it. She reminded me of my own mom, except, of course, she wasn't a Paranormal Investigator. And it looked like this house wasn't just moved into, like ours was.

"Oh, you must be the new neighbor! Come in! I made lemonade!" I walked in, and knew that this was a house that was comfy. It was tidy, sure, but a plush couch sat in the corner, and a backpack was slung in the front hall, unzipped to reveal Geometry textbooks, books for English, and loose pencils. It was Mark's book bag, and I realized that school wasn't quite over yet. Still another week to go. This was just the weekend. Ugh.

I heard footsteps padding down wood. Mark!

I saw his messed hair and smiled. He grinned back, and my heart fluttered a bit.

"Hey, Nell, what's up?" He said easily.

"Ah, nothing much, just stopping by to say hi. You know. It was really nice of you to show me that river yesterday. Thanks." I offered.

"Oh, it was nothing. I mean, you live here now, you gotta know all the cool stuff, I guess"

I wanted to thank him again, but I stopped myself. Like a mantra in my head, over and over I thought, : Do not sound lame, do not sound lame, please don't sound lame...

"I hate to interrupt, kids, but we're out of milk. And eggs, and bread, and turkey and cheese and yogurt, for that matter. Mark, can you pick up some at the grocery store?" I sighed. So much for my idea. A nice outfit, all for nothing.

"Sure, Ma. But can Nell come too?" He asked. My eyes widened.

"Aw, Nelly doesn't want to go do errands, Mark. Just go on your own." His mother dismissed the notion. I was determined to fix that.

"No, I would love to go! We need peanut butter anyways. We can't refrigerate anything, seeing as we don't have a freezer. So I want to go." I said.

"Fine, fine. Be back before noon, I want you to have a good lunch, Mark." She beamed.

We gladly exited the house, and went into the beautiful, sunny day. Not even one cloud was in sight. The sun framed the pines like a halo.

Outside, I saw an old , silver pick up truck that had rather lost its sheen. Mark saw me looking at it.

"I just got my license last month!" He said proudly. I was impressed. He was sixteen, while I was only fifteen and eleven months. He was almost the same age as me, but not quite.

"That's so cool!" I gushed, "how did you get the car?"

Suddenly, a frown spread across Mark's face. I got the hint, he really didn't want to talk about it.

We hopped in the worn leather seats, and drove to the super market in complete smothering silence, to my complete dismay. What happened to Mark's joy?

At the super market, the silence continued. This was nothing like the huge food filled mazes that were groceries in California. It had a simple layout, just small sections for each main food group. Despite the heat outside, I shivered.

We got yogurt. We got eggs, and we got milk. But suddenly, Mark looked at the milk bottle. Then he looked at me, then back to the bottle.

"Grab a milk bottle." He demanded.

"I don't have a fridge, remember?" I reminded him.

"Aw, just do it." So I pulled a bottle out of the icy fridge.

"Milk fight!" He cried and held his milk bottle over his head. I hit it with mine, and he parried back. But I lightly poked him a few times.

Then I realized that was a mistake. Mark's eyes narrowed into slits. I tried to poke him again, but he was in Beast Mode now. He avoided my blows, and poked me instead, quick as lightening.

So, I took the closest thing on hand, a hostess Cupcake package, and chucked it at his face.

"Unfair advantage!" He crowed. I chuckled for a second, and retaliated by tossing a bunch of grapes right at me. It missed, and I stuck out my tongue.

Before long, we were having a full Pastry Fight, with both sides viciously defended themselves. I fell over, giggling. Mark cracked up too.

"That was so fun!" I said.

"You lost!" He jeered.

"No way!" I countered. But I saw an angry looking man standing over me. He had a name tag I couldn't read upside down, and told us to get up.

"Clean my store!" He shouted. We immediately spent a full half hour putting the milk, pastries and grapes back in their place. We apologized profusely, even if I wasn't sorry at all.

"Okay, I won't kick you out. But this is the last warning, kids." The working guy threatened. We paid for the groceries, and got out of there.

As soon as we got back in the truck, I started to giggle again.

"That was worth it." I told Mark.