PROLOGUE
OLIVER
Ten years ago
“Hey, honey!” My mom’s voice carries from the kitchen as my dad trudges in, yanking his tie loose with one hand. He tosses his suit jacket over the recliner, then messes up my hair with his palm as he follows the smell of dinner down the hall. “Did you see we have new neighbors?”
New neighbors?The concept is foreign to me. For as long as we’ve lived here—which has been my entire life—it’s always been the same faces. Old Man McGillicuddy in the crooked house on Nibbler Street. Mrs. Willows from the post office. Cranky George at the supermarket.
I stop coloring outside of the lines of my coloring book and rush over to the window that overlooks our front yard. A moving van rumbles its way into the winding driveway of the house next door, shaking the very foundation of the earth.
I’ve never been the most imaginative kid in school. I prefer concrete things, such as knowing that a puck will go into the net when you slap it just right. Or that peanut butter and jelly go together like pieces of a puzzle. But today, I imagine that thepeople moving in are a kind family. That they have a son my age, who I can hang out with all the time because we’re neighbors.
A red car pulls up behind the moving van. My fingernails dig into the windowsill, leaving little half-moon indentations in the paint. My chest tightens as the engine cuts off.One Mississippi, two Mississippi—why aren’t they getting out?The glass fogs under my nose with each passing second until the driver’s side door finally creaks open.
A man unfolds from the car, stretching upward until he’s taller than our front door. His jaw clenches tight, the muscles working beneath his clean-shaven cheeks. The collar of his suit stands at a perfect right angle against his neck, and sunlight glints off shoes polished to a mirror shine. He reminds me of a character from one of those war movies Dad watches on Saturday afternoons.
The passenger door swings open next, and I instantly deflate. It’s not a kid my age, but someone older. Not by much, but by enough that I can tell we will never be friends. His eyes sweep over his new home, then slide to the surrounding houses. His lips curl into a smirk that promises mischief.
I’m about to abandon my post and return to my half-finished dinosaur picture when something stirs in the back seat of the car.Is there someone else? Or is it a dog?
The car door opens an inch, then two. A scuffed sneaker with untied laces dangles in the air before touching down on the pavement. The leg of a pair of jeans follows, frayed at the cuff and rolled up twice. My breath fogs the window again as I lean closer. The door swings wider, and my heart skips when I realize…it’s a boy!
His bowl-cut hair frames a face dominated by glasses that slip down his nose despite his constant adjustments. While his father stands ramrod straight and his brother slouches with confidence, this boy hunches his shoulders inward, making himself smaller than he already is. His gaze jumps from the house to the movingvan, then down to his sneakers, never settling on one thing long enough.
“Mom?” I lean back from the window and call her again when I get no answer. “Mom!”
“What is it, honey?”
“Can I meet the new neighbors? They have a kid.”
She sighs. “I suppose. Just don’t be a nuisance. I’m sure they want to get settled into their new home.”
“I won’t!” I run out of the living room and burst through the front door, completely forgetting to put on socks and shoes first. My bare soles burn against the pavement that’s been cooking under the summer sun.
By the time I’m hopping over the small bushes that separate my yard from theirs, the dad and older brother have made their way inside the house. The boy is still rooted to the spot.
I thunder across the lawn, and he whips around at the sound, his eyes as round as hockey pucks behind those glasses.
“Hi!” I say cheerfully. “I’m Oliver. I live right over there.”
The boy follows my pointed finger before glancing back at me. His gaze slides from my face down to my feet, and I straighten my spine without thinking.
“Hi,” he says softly, hesitantly. “I’m…”
I lean forward, my toes digging into the ground, waiting for him to tell me his name.
“Ryan!” The older man steps out onto the stoop. “Get inside. You have unpacking to do. Now!”
I don’t miss the way Ryan flinches at the annoyance in his dad’s voice. He glances over his shoulder and gives his dad a sharp nod before turning back to me. “Bye, Oliver.”
He rushes into the house, slipping past his father, who barely acknowledges him, because his eyes are laser-focused on me. “Are you lost?” he asks.
“No,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and standing even taller. “I’m Ryan’s neighbor.”
“Well, run off. We’re quite busy.” He disappears into the house, slamming the door behind him.
I’m not an angry kid by nature. But the scowl that emerges on my face would surely suggest it. I don’t care if Ryan’s dad doesn’t like me. The only thing that matters is that Ryan does.
