First Glance

03

"First love is a kind of vaccination that immunizes a man from catching the disease a second time."

-Honore de Balzac

Demi's music beats his alarm clock every morning now. The wall between them is super thin so Peter can't ignore it. He rolls over onto his back and pounds his fist into the wall - 3 hard knocks.

The volume lowers but not enough for Peter to go back to sleep. He goes to her room and opens the door to find her sitting at her vanity applying a little too much eyeliner.

"What the hell, get out of my room," She yells at him, "Can't you knock?"

"I did," He reminds her, "Next time your music wakes me up before my alarm, I'm coming in here and throwing your speaker outside the window.

"Whatever," she rolls her eyes.

"Think I won't," he says as he goes to grab the Bluetooth speaker off her nightstand. She lunges toward him but just isn't fast enough.

"Give it back," she screams at him, climbing onto his shoulders as he holds it above his head, "Peter! I swear to God, give it back!"

"Not until you stop being a brat and realize you're not the only one who lives in this house," he starts walking down the hallway with it and enters the bathroom where he can easily lock her out.

His minute in the bathroom is his time in the morning for peace and quiet but now she's hitting the door with her fists and simultaneously calling mom for reinforcements.

"Mom," she sings her tune, "Peter took my speaker and won't give it back to me."

"Well, honey," She starts while making her way closer to the hallways away from the kitchen, "Maybe if you didn't wake the house up every morning with your songs, you wouldn't be here."

"Make him give it back," Demi demands.

It's Peter's turn to roll his eyes. He's going to give it back, but he's just going to make her sweat for a little bit.

His mom sighs and lightly taps on the door, "Peter, come out."

When he comes out of the bathroom and the speakers, not in sight, the fully caked face of his little sister begins to show panic. Her olive-green eyes widen and frantically search him.

He is amused for a moment until he notices that she intends to go to school, half-dressed. She's wearing a white, see-through crop top that shows everyone the color of her very lacy, black bra. Peter hates it just as much as he hates the denim shorts she's wearing that doesn't even cover half of her upper thigh.

"Where is my speaker," she snaps.

But Peter's ready to fight back, "With the rest of your clothes. Look there and maybe you'll find it too."

"Mom," Demi stomps the hardwood floor beneath her, hard like a child.

"Peter," She says calmly, but with a slightly scolding tone to it.

"Tell her to stop using it in the morning."

"Guys, can't we just go one morning with you two getting along," Mom buries her head in her hands and yawns deeply. She works full-time. She's a mom full-time. And a mediator part-time in her own house.

She sighs, "Alright, Demetria stop it with the music. You're not in the 90s and you don't have a boombox. Lower the music or we take it away."

"Peter, give your sister back her speaker," She snaps her fingers and he obeys, retrieving it from the top of the towel rack and tossing it to his sister."

Demi fumbles with trying to catch it and shouts, "Hey!"

"Enough," Mrs. Evans demands, "You're leaving for school in 10 minutes. Both of you get ready and eat your breakfast." She walks in the direction of the kitchen.

"I am ready!"

"Like hell you are."

Demi stalks off back to her room grumbling about how life isn't fair and she hates her family. Meanwhile, it takes Peter a couple of minutes to get ready and head to breakfast. When his sister finally made an appearance fully dressed in clothes and a scowl, her breakfast is cold. 

"Look what you did," she throws the cold and soggy piece of toast at her brother, "You owe me food."

"I owe you nothing," Peter laughs, "It's your own damn fault. We're not going to be late just because you can't eat your cold food. Get a granola bar and meet me in the car."

Peter takes his bag and throws it over his shoulder, leaving his moody sister to scout the kitchen for anything closely resembling food. When he makes it to the car, he notices his neighbors across the street experiencing some car trouble. 

He first sees Mr. De Luca, struggling to find the problem under the hood of his pick up truck. There's oil residue on his ETHS polo and frustration on his face. His cheeks puffed from holding his breath in an effort to solve the problem. But it's Alicia that keeps his attention.

She sitting into her hip with a daisy covered messenger bag hanging over her shoulder. She's got the same black and white Chuck Taylors on, a normal v-neck t-shirt, and denim shorts that hug her waist. Even standing there, looking as casual as she can be, she could sucker punch his heart.

Peter notes that though she's trying to help her dad, he's not letting her. She's frustrated too, but she's not arguing back.

When Demi comes out of the house, she finds her brother looking across the street. She scoffs to get his attention, "Let's go."

Peter looks back at her as she starts walking toward the passenger seat. "Get in the back," he tells her. 

"What," She frowns, "Just because of my music? No."

"Demetria, get your ass in the back seat," he demands as he himself gets into the driver's seat. When she finally gets into the back seat, he immediately starts pulling out of the driveway.

But he surprises both his passenger in the back seat and his neighbors when he rolls down his window and offers, "Hey, need a ride?"

"What the hell are you doing," Demi yells.

Peter pays no attention to her. Instead, he watches as his neighbors exchange confused looks. Mr. De Luca looks back at his daughter to seek her approval. She's taken by surprise but when her brown eyes meet his, he becomes hopeful. She shrugs to her dad who responds to the boy in the car, "Sure, we'd appreciate it."