Darian's Golden Girl

Sweaty Palms

I hadn't seen him since I was 7 and I cannot find the words to describe the nerves I'm feeling right now. Are they even nerves? Are they butterflies? No. Stupid y/n you can't get butterflies from someone you haven't seen since second grade.
I don't know what to expect, like at all. I can barely remember what this kid looks like let alone who he was as a person. But I guess everyone is kinda the same when you're seven. Except for that one group of boys that would mix chocolate milk with the mashed potatoes, they were always a lil weird. Our moms were apparently best friends in high school so I don't understand why I haven't seen him in so long.
We pull up to the train station and stand on the platform, my hands are shaking I'm so nervous.
"Mom what was Darian like?" I feel dumb for asking but I wanna know before he shows up.

"Sweetheart he was your friend not mine. You would know better than I would." Well that was helpful as always.

The train pulls up and my heart stops. Figuratively of course, I didn't die right there on the platform, but it definitely felt like I did. Why am I so anxious? You're meeting a stranger y/n what standard are you even holding him to?
Well I guess I am kind of holding him to some sort of standard, considering I was like "in love" with him between the ages of 5-7. I guess you could say him moving away my first heartbreak. He must have been husband material if I wanted to marry him. At least I think that's how that works.
The train doors start to open. My heart is beating out of my chest. What am I supposed to expect?
Certainly not what came next.

"DO YOU *buzz* EVER FEEL *buzz* LIKEA PLASTIC *buzz*BAG" Katy Perry's voice screeches from my pocket.

Oh Felicity. My half sister who can't leave me alone for more than 15 minutes, how I love her clingy little self, but now is not the time.
As I hang up the phone I turn back to the door.

And that's when I see Darian.

With his suitcase.

And a Kermit the frog hand puppet.

Oh boy.