Prelude:

My family and I moved from Winnetka, a quaint, wealthy suburb of Chicago in the summer before my Sophomore year. My new home would come to be McLean, Virginia. An affluent suburb outside of the bustling D.C. Metropolitan area. My father being a rather successful campaign manager and political strategist; my mother a respected pediatrician and philanthropist.

I met Tobias Eaton early June. My father having insisted on us going to a fundraiser of one of his clients, Marcus Eaton, whom before deciding upon a career in politics served as Provost at Yale. Now, the presumptive Presidential nominee for the Republican party.

Tobias came across as mild-mannered, a guy who only talks when spoken to, though very kind and courteous, especially to my mother. Always managing to keep conversations from having himself being the topic of interest. At the age of seventeen, he'd seemed to have mastered the art of deflection.

Somehow my mother managed to chip away at his seemingly hard exterior. Inviting him out for brunch while our fathers are on the campaign trail. Caleb tagged along, likely eager to be having lunch with what could be a potential friend for him.

While sipping iced tea 0n a restaurant patio in Old Town Alexandria, I learned a lot about him. He's a rising Senior at the school that Caleb will at start in September. A serious academic and athlete, a tri-athlete in fact, having lettered in all three of his sports as a freshman, recruited by Georgetown University for football his sophomore year, and for baseball the following season. He's going to be attending there the fall after graduation with a generous scholarship.

Caleb must've been drooling at the mention of Georgetown, considering it's a school he's practically idealized since birth, though I tend to think his loyalty would lie in pursuing an academic career at M.I.T. if given the choice. Tobias, while seemingly exceptional, again proved to be a master of deflection.

"So, Mrs. Prior, I hear you're opening a practice in town?" He says smoothly, as if his accomplishments are something to be forgotten, covered up by rendering images of my mother's success.

A week later I saw him at the gym. I had just signed up for a membership, hoping to resume my workout regimen before the start of summer tryouts. I wasn't stalking him, but my eyes couldn't leave him. The way he conducted himself there was unlike anything he'd shown prior. It was as if the weight he'd been baring had been lifted and he was finally able to go without judgement. I think my eyes never left him, because I wasn't sure whether the Tobias I had first encountered could be this carefree.

He was laughing with a muscular, black-haired, asian man over by the shelves with towels and water. I tried focusing on a piece of mirror to the side of my, but my eyes kept flitting back to him. Running out my routine of hamster cardio on the treadmill for another half an hour before heading out.

I went back home that afternoon feeling like I'd seen something I shouldn't. Like he wouldn't be happy with the fact that someone he barely knows had seen him being so unrestrained.

Stepping out of the shower, my clean skin making me feel refreshed, I dress in lounge clothes and sit on the chaise in my room and start to catch up on summer reading.

The balcony doors are wide open, allowing for the occasional summer breeze to waft in, a pleasant disruption from the atmospheric stillness. I get up and walk out the the balcony, still unfurnished, although I have intentions to change that soon. Maybe I'll get mom to swing by a furniture store and get a chair and side table so I can relax outside. Looking out over the trees that cover the property and out onto the main road, there are other grandiose houses that make it feel a little less lonely. In fact, the Eatons live a mere two miles away from us.