Arthur couldn't get the boy's image out of his mind. Tall, sleek, thin and tanned; just what he liked. About this particular boy, anyway.
The boy in particular was his next-door neighbor, Alberto Molina. Alberto had moved to Elwood City when Arthur was only 8, and he was immediately taken with the Ecuadorian teenager.
Arthur wouldn't have ever admitted it, and he wasn't even quite sure of it himself at the time, but his fascination with the boy and the new next-door neighbors transcended their simple newness.
Arthur thought Alberto was cute, but he was always so confused with his feelings then that it took time and the hormonal surge of puberty as well as finding himself in the haze of school, friends and girls' crushes on him to realise what he thought all those years ago. 6 years ago, to be exact. The year seemed like it went on forever; it was one event after another, then Alberto exploded into his life.
Now 14 and sure of his feelings, Arthur was sitting in the dark of his room staring up at the general direction of the ceiling thinking of all the times he'd talked to Alberto, seen Alberto, heck, even been around Alberto. Held in particularly high regard were the times when he'd seen Alberto practicing kendo in his backyard, or kicking his beloved "El Boomerang" soccer ball around, or the time Alberto gave Arthur his Spanish Bionic Bunny comics to read.
Arthur laughed at the recollection of the thought, and how he was unable to pronounce the Spanish, Conejo Bionico, and how he had called up Alberto so many times that particular night asking him what the simplest words meant. Arthur blushed slightly in the dark of his room, thinking how silly he must have seemed to the (mostly) calm and collected 13-year-old then.
He'd outgrown Bionic Bunny years ago, but not without some hesitation; after he had criticized D.W. for years for watching the now-cancelled "show for babies" Mary Moo Cow, D.W. thought it was about high time she took a swipe at him for things she thought Arthur should be outgrowing at 11 years old. Never wanting to look childish, Arthur promptly threw the comics out the next day, but stowed away a poster in his closet for sentimental value.
Alberto was now in college, and a mature 19-year-old. He didn't play soccer or practice kendo in his backyard anymore; he was always too busy. Whenever Arthur went over for a casual visit, Vicita or Ramon would inform him he was up in his room studying. Arthur would always walk back around the fence to his house dejected. Sometimes he'd ignore the taunts from D.W. as he walked back in the door; sometimes he'd lash out at her, telling her she wasn't very mature for a 10-year-old, which he knew annoyed her to no end. She'd always run and complain to Mom; he'd always walk to his room, lock the door and cry by himself.
It wasn't like Arthur never saw Alberto, but it wasn't without its costs before he became a high-school student. Being in elementary school when Alberto was in high school, if he wanted to see Alberto, he had to get up at the time the high school bus came down their street just to glimpse Alberto. Then, he would fall back asleep to dreams of Alberto, the content of which would make him blush as he woke up, tired, and usually late for school, a definite difference to his elementary school days.
Of course, those were the days Alberto made more of an appearance outside of his room. The age-gap between the two was such that, to Arthur's dismay, they were never in the same school together. The fact was like another obstacle to Arthur being happy. If it wasn't earlier starting times preventing him from seeing the older boy, it was Alberto being out with other friends or at some soccer game. Now it was college, and studying.
Arthur sighed, bringing his thoughts back to the present. The dreaded present, and the dark, lonely room which seemed to reflect his current state of mind. Why was it so hard? Was it just that Alberto had 'outgrown' him? Did he tell Vicita and his parents to tell Arthur he was busy if he wanted to see him? Arthur had seen other friends go over there. Including girls, which made Arthur's heart drop, and subsequently dampen the rest of his day the times it occurred. He always half-heartedly reassured himself with the perhaps not very accurate fact that they were just friends; after all, a guy could be friends with girls and not be romantic with them, couldn't he?