I'm not falling for him maybe.

chapter two.

"Ladies first," Chase says, stepping to the side and pushing open his front door.

"You just want to look at my tooshy." I smirk, walking in first anyway.

"Tooshy? Really, Grace, really?"

"I'm pure." I reply, but my laughter is cut short by a small person flinging his arms around my waist. "Ethan! Hey buddy, whats's up?"

"Grace, I got a new car! I A new one, and it's a truck! It's blue! Wanna see?"

"Hmm, let me think... of course! Where is it?"

"It's right here! It's with my other cars! Look!" He tugs at my hand, yanking me away from Chase and over to the other side of the living room. "See, see?" Ethan pulls me down beside of him, pointing at a line of small vehicles in front of us, specifically at a shiny blue truck. "You wanna play with me?"

"Sure!" I smile. "Which car can I use?"

"You can use my truck." He smiles back, handing it to me.

"Your brand new truck? Wow, Ethan, thank you!"

"Yeah!" He picks up his red car and pretends to drive it over my arm. "I want to be a race car driver."

"You do? That's cool! And what color is your car going to be?"

"It's going to be..." He pauses. "It'll be blue, with red polka dots and yellow stripes!"

"That sounds interesting," I laugh when his mother calls for him. I put the truck on the ground, stand up and pull him to his feet. "Where are you going?"

"We're going to the grocery store. I'm going to get popsicles!"

He gives me another tight hug. I ruffle his hair and watch him leave before approaching Chase again. He's staring at me in a strange way that makes me suddenly feel self concious.

"What?"

"No, it's just... he loves you."

"He should. I have known him ever since he was three hours old."

"Yeah, but you know how he is."

I nod. I do. When Ethan was four, they found out that he had autism. He doesn't always learn as quickly, and I've seen him have a mental break down over little things, like his books not being organized correctly. I've also seen the way he reacts to strangers, or people he hasn't seen in awhile. He isn't one to display his emotion openly, though I have no doubt in my mind that he loves Chase, his mother or me.

"Hey, did you get any Spanish homework?" Chase asks, digging through his backpack.

"I take French," I laugh.

"What? Really? Since when?" He stares at me like I'm insane. I roll my eyes and open my bag, pulling out my French notebook. He flips through it with disbelief clear on his face. "Well, I feel like an idiot."

"I've been taking French since last year, you big goof."

I take my book back and use it to smack him over the head. He shoves my arm gently.

"I could've sworn you sat behind me."

"Well," I laugh. "I don't, sorry."

"Okay, then whatever you take. French, Spanish, Arabic... do you have language homework?"

"Arabic," I snort. "Yeah. I have to study a poem or something. You?"

"Yeah. I'm flunking." He groans, rubbing his eyes.

"That's probably because you don't even know what language you're speaking."

"I'm speaking English." Shifting the weight of his books, he nods to the wooden stairs. "I have to put this up before my arm falls off. Study?"