There are two sides of Beverly Heights: West and East. I live on the west side.

I guess you could call West Beverly Heights "less flashy" or "more modest". Either description is the polite way of saying "less wealthy than East Beverly Heights". Of course, there's always the exception.

I had lived in West Beverly Heights for less than two weeks-I had yet to meet my next door neighbor, A.K.A., the exception. Even from my side of the fence, the huge swimming pool and water slide could be seen next to the multi-story house. The huge front gates gave way to a beautiful entryway, and beyond that was a mystery to me. During my first few days living here I often wondered what kind of a person owned a house-or should I say mansion-like that. Now I've learned to ignore the curiosity. If the home's owner wanted me to know, they would have introduced themselves.

My sister lives across the water in East Beverly Heights with her husband. I thought of them as I sat in traffic, on my way to visit them for the first time since moving here. It's no secret that my sister and I weren't close anymore. We lost touch after I attended film school in New York. After graduation I stayed in the city for a few years, during which we reestablished communication, but only by occasional letters. Today would be my first time seeing her in person since I was eighteen-seven years ago.

Driving through East Beverly Heights, it was easy to see why it was considered wealthier. Homes twice the size of mine loomed with menacing beauty over my tiny 1920 Chevrolet FB-40. Each had at least two cars in the driveway, and many had horse stables next to the garages. I felt very tiny.

Jessica's house was on the water, which made its white facade gleam even brighter against the blue of the bay behind it. I parked in the four-car driveway, taking the last empty space. I wondered who the red third car belonged to, since Jessica and her husband only have two of their own. She bragged in a letter that her car is white, while her husband's is black. And speak of the devil, there he was. He stood on the front porch, wearing tight pants that show off his calf muscles, a classy red undershirt, and-wait, was that the same letter jacket he wore in high school? I couldn't believe it still fit him, with his muscles having nearly doubled in size since we attended high school together. His blonde hair enveloped the top of his head in curls. He saw me, and waved less than halfheartedly. I took a deep breathe to prepare for whatever awkwardness was about to come, and approached him. "Hello, Kleet."

He clapsed a hand on my shoulder, making my knees nearly buckle beneath the force of his incredible strength. No wonder he was the star quarterback in high school. "Spencer, buddy, good to see you." It didn't take an idiot to tell that he was forcing the words and smile to his lips. We weren't exactly friends in high school. "You like the house? Pretty nice, if I may say so myself. Three stories, and there are horse stables and a swimming pool out back. I'll give you the grand tour later. Come on inside, Jessica's been waiting."

I couldn't tell if he was trying to be polite or if he just wanted to show off. Either way, I followed him inside to the large parlor. Two women were sitting across from each other on couches, laughing and sipping cocktails even though it was only early afternoon. Though I hadn't seen Jessica in years, I recognized her easily. Her long dark hair that she always used to wear in a ponytail now flowed freely across her back. Her green eyes sparkled as she laughed. The white dress she wore cut off just below the knee as she crossed her legs. The two looked up when Kleet and I walked in, and Jessica smiled.

"Spencer! How have you been?" She stood and met me with a warm hug.

"Pretty good, and you?"

"Never better."

Kleet took my hat and jacket while Jessica introduced me to her friend, who still sat on the couch sipping her drink. She must have been the owner of the blue car, and based on the car's make and model it was easy to guess that she too lived in East Beverly Heights. She wore a purple jacket with a fluffy fur hood over a light white sundress. A large necklace sat on her large chest, which I immediately felt guilty for looking at. Most impressive was her auburn hair that flowed even longer than Jessica's. "Spencer, this is Mallory. Mallory, my older brother, Spencer."

We exchanged greetings and shook hands before Kleet suggested that we eat out on the back porch. Dinner between the four of us wasn't quite as awkward as I had anticipated, and I speculated that it was because Mallory's presence lightened the mood. Maybe that's why Jessica and Kleet invited her. Current events was the hot topic more than catching up. Kleet went on and on about horse racing and his favorite sports teams. I was glad to see that Mallory, like me, seemed to care less. Once during the meal the telephone rang, and Kleet went to answer it. Jessica excused herself to use the restroom and check on her infant daughter upstairs, who I had no clue existed. It was odd that she hadn't mentioned a daughter in any of her letters. With only the two of us remaining, Mallory asked me how I liked West Beverly Heights, if I was adjusting well, what the other houses were like.

"Modest, as far as mansions go. Except for the one next door to me, which may be the most extravagant house I've ever laid eyes on."

"A house that large in West Beverly Heights?" Mallory paused. "Wait, it doesn't have a swimming pool and water slide, does it?"

"Yes."

She laughed. "That house, Spencer, would belong to The Cobra!"

"The Cobra?"

She smiled. "If you haven't heard of him yet, you will. He's known for having the biggest and best parties on this side of the bay."

Before I could open my mouth to say anything else, Kleet returned. "That was Lolo on the telephone," he explained. Turning to me he said, "I'd love for you to meet her sometime, Spencer."

"I'm sorry, but, who?"

"Lolo is Kleet's lover," Mallory explained in a hushed voice. "His mistress."

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't even sure if I could speak. Not only was my brother-in-law not making any effort to hide the fact that he was cheating on my sister, but he wanted me to meet his mistress? Did he have no morals? Mallory didn't seem upset, either, and she was Jessica's friend. Maybe this was normal for the upper class. As shocked as I was, I certainly didn't want to get on Kleet's bad side. Not while those huge forearms were in punching distance. "I'd love to meet her," I forced myself to say.

Kleet smiled. "Excellent," he said, just as Jessica returned to the table. Kleet put his arm around her. I bit my lip and looked away from him, hoping my rage wasn't visible on my face.

Three drinks later and a tour of the massive house later, the sun was setting as I put on my jacket and hat while bidding the three farewell. I promised Jessica I'd keep in touch and that I'd see her soon. By the time I returned to my home in West Beverly Heights, the sun has completely disappeared below the horizon. Lights from the East Beverly Heights houses twinkled across the bay, like stars suspended between the sky and water. I watched them sparkle from my yard, lost in their beauty and wonder. I felt alone in the world, like nothing and no one existed other than the lights and my own self. It was an incredible feeling. Two weeks I've lived here and I'd never experienced this magnificent wonder before.

Footsteps from behind the fence of the large house next door snapped me from my trance. Peering over it, I saw the shadow of a man enter the back door of the mansion. Thanks to Mallory, I now knew who the man was, though this was the first time I had seen him.

I was not alone gazing at the lights. The Cobra was watching, too.