"I can't believe we're actually doing this."

She just laughs at me.

I rephrase what I said. "I meant I can't believe I'm doing this. With you."

"Oh come on, Tris. It's going to be fun. I swear." Christina tells me.

"Uh-huh. We could get arrested, ya know." I remind her. Is fun an enough excuse to damage your own record?

"What? It's not like we put poison in them? Don't be such a kill-joy. And just trust me. We've been best friends since..." She trails off. "See, I can't even remember. Must've been a long, long time ago."

I chuckle. "Christina, we've been best friends since seventh grade which was two years ago. And if we get into any trouble, I'm blaming you."

She nods. "Okay. But if you run into someone cute, you'd be thanking me. And the money we'll earn will be added to our savings."

She hands me the wagon. "Here," she orders me. "you go and drag this. Unless you want to be the one to talk."

I shake my head. "You can do it." I latch my fingers around the handle and we head towards house no. 1 with the wheels of the wagon full of cardboard boxes cackling on the gravel.

Christina rings the doorbell and we wait. There's a sound of shuffling feet then a crash and then a loud bang from indside. I stare at Christina wide-eyed and she just shrugs, her face indiferent. The door opens and reveals a boy I think I've seen before but I can't place him. He's probably a foot taller than me, his eyes are even browner than his skin. I would describe him as the black version of Shaggy. Except his hair is all curls and as black as a raven. That leads me to questioning why everyone is white in Scooby-Doo. Except for Scooby-Doo himself. And that thought leads me to thinking how thoughts trigger other thoughts so fast "Hi. I'm Christina and this is Tris," she points to me and I force a nervous smile, " and we were wondering if you'd like to buy some cookies."

He nods slightly. "Uh.. Sure." He looks at the wagon. "What flavors do you got?"

Christina holds out her list. "Walnut, hazelnut, chocolate chip, choco mint, caramel, macadamia, coconut, lemon, and fruit and nut. They go in boxes of six."

She sounds so used to this, I can't imagine how many times she's repeatedly done this around different unknown neighborhoods. "I'll take one choco mint." He tells us and I grab the green box and hand it over to him.

"That will be three dollars." Chris tells him.

He reaches through his back pocket and finds a crupled five dollar change. Christina gives the change.

"Thank you. Have a nice day." And he shuts the door. Chris marks a number one beside choco mint.

We leave the house. I ask her, "Who was that?"

"Mark Johnson. Senior. Repeated a year since he flunked science."

I nod. We go on to the next house. It's a one story house. The lawn is beautiful and grand. The bushes are trimmed, there's a large bed of different flowers and there's actually a flamigo standing right there, just beside the table covered by a huge patio umbrella. A flamingo. I point to it and give Chris a look. She scrunches her nose with a shrug. I ring the doorbell before Christina does, just because it looks so fancy.

After about ten seconds, the brown wooden door opens. I get a quick glance of the inside. It looks so modern and the air is so cool and floats out toward us. I inhale the air conditioned coldness.

"Christina!" Says the boy in front of us. He looks about our age.

"Al," Christina smiles. "This is Tris." She gestures to me.

He's so tall, even taller than the black Shaggy, that I have to look up. His shoulders are broad, his masculinity gives him contrast since he acts so gentle, the way he smiles, the way his hands move, the way he nods. He sticks out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

I'm not used to this, shaking hands. It's such a formal act. But I shake his hand anyway, hoping my grip wasn't too tight or to loose. Is two shakes enough?

He smiles and pulls back. His cheeks are so red, even when the airconditioning is so cold.

"So what you got?" He turns to Christina.

She hands him the list instead of verbalizing. He takes it and I raise my eyebrows at Chris. She holds up two fingers at me and puts them together, trying to tell me something like "We're close, he won't mind."

I just nod. And Al orders.

Suprisingly, he orders one of each flavor. So that's three dollars times nine which leads to the twenty-seven dollars in my hands now. We're already walking away from Al's yet I still don't know why someone would buy that much. Christina watches me.

"They have three maids, a cook, and a gardener. Plus a sister."

I nod slowly then stuff the cash in my back pocket.

"So," I say and pull my hair out of its ponytail, "you guys close?"

"Ah," she says, checking her list then spins to the right and continues to walk. "Yeah, he's in a private school. My mom teaches debate there. I've known him since we were ten."

"Well, does he know where these cookies came from?"

She grins evilly. "Who does?"

I let out a disbelieving laugh. "Us!"

She sighs. "Yeah. They aren't homemade... So?"

"That's whats stated on each pack. We are lying to them."

"Oh," her face is amused, "Beatrice Prior, feeling guilty?"

I grimace. "Don't call me that."

"Okay." She puts her hands up in surrender.

The next house is two-stories high but there is no garden like Al's. Christina knocks in the dark blue door since there's no bell to ring.

Green eyes meet ours. Another boy answers the door.

Christina stands frozen. Her eyes widen and she blinks them. Her foot jiggles and she glances at me. Why isn't she talking? I clear my throat. She still doesn't speak. It's so weird, she was never able to shut her mouth most times.

I talk. "Hi. I'm Tris and this is Christina and we were wondering if you would want to buy some."

He smiles and a dimple appears on his right cheek. "Okay. Which flavor would you prefer?" He asks this spesifically to Christina, I notice.

She blinks two times first then squeezes her cheeks together with her left hand, takes a deep breath then answers. "The macadamia is the best. In my opinion."

He nods. "I guess I'll take two of those."

Christina grins. "Great."

She grabs fir the two boxes so enthustiastically as if she's in a play.

The blonde guy in front of us gets out his wallet and hands over ten dollars to me.

"Keep the change," he tells us.

"What," Christina asks. "No, um. It's just six dollars and I- it- um..." She stutters. Christina never stutters.

He shakes his head with a small smile. "No keep it, Christina."

She bites her lip, something she does to hide her smile, I notice. "Thank you..."

"Will." He nods his head at me. "Thanks for the cookies."

He shuts the door. Christina looks at me, her eyes wider than I've ever seen. But then the door opens again.

"Wait," Will says. "Could I ask for your number? You know, so I would know if you get any new flavors."

Oh my God. If that was so, shouldn't he be the one to give Chris a number? He's asking for her number. Not because of cookies. But they pretend so.

Christina smiles, her cheeks a different color, writes it down and hands the piece of paper back. "Just text me if you've got any special flavor in mind."

He grins. "I will." And the door shuts, final for this time.

Christina turns to me then tackles me to the ground and squeals, her srms wrapped around my neck.

"Ow."

She hugs me tighter. "Woah, Chris. What the hell?"

She laughs then stands up. She grabs me by the arms. "I know. What the hell."

I grab the wagon and pull her with me, away from the door. She might not leave this house aanymor, the longer we stay.

"He got your number because he likes you and you know it."

She smiles. "I know!"

I shake my head. "I'm guessing he'd call you for dessert." I say with a smirk.

She bursts out laughing.

"What?" I ask.

She punches my arm. "You and your dirty little mind."

"What did I say?" I laugh innocently. "Cookies can be eaten as dessert, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

I realize something. "Wow, Chris. What's the probablity that every door we knock on is opened by a boy our age."

"Ninety-nine point nine."

Huh? I stay quiet, waiting for her to explain.

But then she reads her list. "Next off, Mason Gentry."

I gape at her. "So you actually have a list of who we're going to. And since it's a list, you know everybody we're going to talk cookies to..."

She nods with a grin. "Yes, Tris. It's the best way of stalking ever."

I laugh. "I don't know where I'll find another girl like you."

"You won't. I'm one in a zillion."

"Is that even a word?"

We go on until we reach the two-story blue house. And without a doubt, a boy opens. His eyes are brown and he's wearing a blue cap on top of his head.

After four more houses, we're left with three boxes of coconut, four of the lemon, two chocolate chip and one box of caramel.

Every door opened by a boy. And I won't lie, every one of them was cute.

And now I'm exhausted, considering the fact that I've been dragging this wagon up and down hill.

"Chris, I'm tired." I whine. My gray t-shirt is soaked. And I'm craving for a burger.

"Yeah me too. But this is the last one. I swear. And then we can go to Mcdonald's. My treat."

I perk up at that last part. "Really?"

"When did I ever lie to you, darlin?" She answers.

I laugh. "You just lied to all the people we sold this to."

"We," she tells me. "We lied. And we didn't really say that we baked them."

She starts walking toward a gray house. She knocks on the wooden door. For the first time, a girl answers.

"Hi," Christina says, taken aback. She glances at me before she repeats the speech about us selling cookies. Then the flavors.

The girl is probably ten years old so of course she would love cookies. But sadly, she doesn't have any money, as she says. Her voice is high and sweet, her brown eyes sparking sweetly. "Wait here," she tells us. "Maybe I can ask my brother." And she runs inside.

We wait there and I ask Christina, "Do you know who lives here?"

"Yeah, of course," she nods. "It's-"

Before she answers, a boy appears in front of the door, the little girl pulling on his hand.

I look at them. They're siblings? The only similarities they have are their hair colors which is brown and their hooked noses. Their eyes are so different, the little girls' light brown, the guys' is a deep shade of blue that reminds me of the ocean, but I'm not that sure as he keeps his gaze on his sister.

"Which one do you want, Katie?" The boy asks his sister. His voice is deep.

Katie points to the chocolate chip. "Please?"

He smiles lovingly at her. "Okay. But don't tell mom."

She nods excitedly. "I promise."

He turns toward us for the first time and I study him better when his eyes meet mine. His eyes aren't just a shade of deep blue. There's a patch of light blue just by his iris that I can't help but stare. He stares back and I get a weird feeling burning in my heart. But I don't look away, no. He reaches into his back pocket, his eyes still on me, a small smile on his face. He hands me the five dollar bill.

"Here." He says.

I take it and I still don't look away but I smile.

Katie tugs at his hand. "Tobias, thanks so much!"

He looks away and toward his sister. "No problem, kiddo."

She hugs the pack cloose to her chest and Christina hands him the change. "Thanks."

"Thank you," Katie tells us that causes me to grin.

"You're welcome." It seems as if she isn't allowed to eat sweets with the way she reacts.

Tobias closes the door and his eyes are the last thing I see before we're faced with gray.

"Tris," Christina pokes my arm.

"What?" I snap my head in her direction.

She laughs. "You look like you were hit by a lightning bolt."

I laugh to hide that yes, it feels exactly that was. I can still feel the electricity stinging my heart. I shrug off the feeling.

"And that was Tobias Eaton, by the way. He's a senior."

"What? I've never seen him before."

"Well," she answers, "he's not really that involved in stuff. He's quiet."

I nod my head and change the subject.

"So, my Mcdonald's?"

"Yeah, I didn't forget." We walk downhill. "Let's just reuturn this wagon to Rose first. It's so loud. I think it needs to be oiled."

She continues to babble while I check the paper bag that holds all the money we earned from today.

"Christina, we've got a hundred fifty dollars. That's a lot."

She gasps. "Wow. I disn't notice how much we sold."

I feel like it's too much for me if I take half of it which is seventy-five. I feel like the money could be used in a better way...

"Christina! How about we donate a portion to the orphanage downtown?" I ask excitedly. I've been there a few times before to visit but I've never really donated with my own money. It was always from my father.

"Sure," she answers without second thought. "I think that'll be a great idea."

We walk the streets 'til we get to her house and her mom drives us to Mcdo for lunch.

And even when hours have already past, the blue eyes of Tobias can't seem to get off my mind. They seemed so familiar. It was just like I've seen a ghost. But what bugs ne the most is that feeling he gave me, the way my body and mind reacted to him. It's so unnerving. It felt so... weird. New. And I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.

Or maybe I like it a bit too much.