Moonbow | Tyrus

One: Prologue

Cyrus's POV

My dad's house stands tall, stretching almost as high as the old trees in the neighbourhood. The garden is filled with mostly daisies, since those are my step-mom's favorite flowers. Wind rattles the wooden chimes that hang from a beam above the porch. Even with all of that, the house's most recognizable feature is still the pumpkin orange door that's been that colour since my dad and my step-mom first bought the house two months ago.

The location of the structure is just a little over thirty minutes from my mom's house, hence why I've only stayed here a few times on just weekends, since it is inconveniently far from both Grant High School and my friends, although my friends could come see me here—which they certainly plan to do—so long as they're willing to use the gas. Buffy and Jonah can both drive, so it's easy for them to get here. Andi, however, will likely be making one of the other two drive her, since she's decided driving is too expensive, and she'd rather bus to school with me every day. 

I wave goodbye to my mom, and she zooms away in her car. The wooden stairs clunk as I step on them to get up to the door. I only have to knock twice before my step-mom, Sharon, answers. Right away, she gives me a smile and a hug and lets me into the entryway. 

"Norman!" she calls to the kitchen. "Cyrus is here!"

I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder and head toward the kitchen where my dad meets me with open arms. He hugs the same way Sharon does, tight and brisk, then steps back with a grin. 

"How are you doing?" he asks me. 

"Pretty good," I reply. "How are the carrots growing?"

Last time I was here was two weekends ago when Sharon and I decided to plant vegetables in the backyard garden so that her and my dad wouldn't have to buy as much from the store over the summer. I haven't been able to see the carrot seeds since then, but I imagine their leaves must be sprouting by now.

"They're getting there," Dad answers. "They'll be ready to eat soon enough, and we can cook all your favorites with them. I'm so glad I'll get to have you around all summer. I don't see you often enough anymore when you're in school."

"I agree," I say with a smile of my own. "I like it here. It's nice being able to go out to the ridge and see the mountains."

"If you haven't already, you should go there at dusk," Sharon suggests. "The stars are gorgeous on the edge of the town."

"That sounds beautiful," I say, "but does curfew still apply in the summer?"

"As long as you make sure to let me know where you are, I'm willing to drop it," my dad answers. 

I smile, feeling the rush of freedom fall over me. It's going to be a good summer. 

"Cool, well, I'm gonna go put my stuff away," I say.

I start toward the stairs, but my attention is stolen as I pass by a window to the backyard. Outside, the bushes and tree branches sway in the breeze, but that's not what grabs my attention. On the deck in the yard backing my dad's, a teenage boy sits playing a large white piano that's stationed safely underneath the cover of a slanted roof held up by pillars. He looks completely spellbound by whatever song he's playing, swaying as he presses the keys. I've never noticed him any of the other days I've been here. I guess he was just never outside when I was looking. I have only been here four other times before, so that makes sense. 

"What'chu looking at?" Dad wonders. 

"There's a boy playing the piano."

He comes over to peek through the window with me, but the second he sees what has my interest, he frowns. 

"That's TJ Kippen," my dad explains. "I may have removed your curfew, but I do have one rule that I need you to follow: stay away from that boy. He's bad news."

"Why?" I ask. 

"He's just not the kind of kid I want to associating with."

My dad steps away, and I figure I should do the same, but I take another second to just watch the blonde at the piano. He doesn't look like trouble, but I suppose my father has his reasons for not liking him. 

I continue on upstairs to my bedroom. The space is much more empty than my room at my mom's house, for I haven't been here enough yet to make the space my own. Currently, it's painted plan white with only the colours of the books on my shelf and the photos of my friends stuck on the walls to provide any colour. The quilt on my bed is basic grey, so that doesn't help much. I'll have to do some decorating over the summer.

I drop my bag down on my bed and glance up at the window. It leads to the backyard, and with that realization, I climb up onto the mattress and peer out, wondering if the boy is still out on his deck. The deck cover is just high enough for me to see him playing the instrument from up here. 

I undo the lock on the window and start spinning the handle which opens the window outward. Immediately, the sound of the music comes floating through the screen, and it takes me a minute, but I eventually recognize the melody of the song as being "Grace" by Lewis Capaldi. The boy, TJ Kippen, plays it incredibly well, not messing up a single note. 

I watch him for a while, letting the music mesmerize me and fill my body with tranquility. When I do finally move, I leave the window open so that I can continue listening to the pianist play while I unpack my belongings.

A/N: Hello! I said I would post it tonight, and I did. Well, at least in mountain time, I did. I'm super excited for another Tyrus story. I feel like it's been forever since I wrote one. I really hope you all like it, and as always, please comment whatever you're feeling or thinking whenever you feel or think it, because I really do love reading the comments. I also love you. Good night!