After we finished with breakfast, Abigail pulled me out the back door and we made our way up the hill toward the fountain. When we got there I sat down on one of the benches, but Abigail groaned and pulled me back to my feet. "Don't be so boring," she complained. She led me over to a clear patch of grass and sat down, patting the ground beside her with an exasperated look when I didn't immediately follow her example. I sat down next to her, amused. When she grabbed my shoulders and shoved me to the ground though, I yelped in surprise. I heard giggling while she laid down on her back next to me, close enough that our shoulders were touching. "Why would you want to sit on an uncomfortable bench when we could lay in the grass and look at the clouds?" she asked.

In response, I just chuckled. Abigail had such a zest for life that even relaxing in the 'wrong' way wasn't to be allowed. It wasn't a particularly cloudy day, so as I absentmindedly looked for shapes in the sky, my thoughts drifted to the girl laying next to me. Not for the first time, I wondered how I could be so comfortable with her. We had only been reunited for a few days, and the time we spent together as children wasn't much longer than that. Were we this connected from the beginning? I asked myself, Or, did the Junimos do something to make us closer?

Then again, maybe it was just because she acted so comfortably around me. She was witty and intelligent, not to mention attractive, and had such an ease about her, I could see anybody being caught up in the phenomenon that was Abigail. It seemed like it would be easy for any guy to develop feelings for her, but I didn't want to go too far down that path if it was just going to lead to heartache. Pointing up at a random, shapeless cloud, I deadpanned, "Junimo." Abigail barked out a laugh, then lightly smacked my arm.

"Dork," she said.

"You're not wrong," I replied. After a few moments of silence, I decided to get it over with. There was probably a better way to handle this, but I never was one for playing games. "Hey, Abby? Do you… act like this with all your friends?"

She turned to lay on her stomach, head resting on her hands, and looked at me. "How do you mean?"

I turned my head to meet her gaze, almost getting lost in brilliant eyes that reflected the color of the sky, then looked back up at the clouds to focus my thoughts. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, I just…" I sighed, sitting up, and Abigail followed suit.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, taking my hands in hers. "You can talk to me about anything, Chris."

I smiled. "I know, I just don't know how to put this, exactly." I took in a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. "You've been very tactile with me," I said, glancing down at our joined hands for emphasis. "I was just wondering, are you like this with all of your friends, or does it have to do with what we shared as kids, or is it... something else?"

"Oh," she said, as realization hit her. She lowered her head, hiding behind a curtain of hair that fell across her face, but not before I saw her smile vanish, along with the ever-present sparkle in her eyes. She started to pull her hands away from mine, but I gripped them tighter.

"I didn't mean to upset you," I scrambled to salvage the situation. "I also didn't want to assume anything, I just wanted to make sure there weren't any misunderstandings."

The silence stretched on for far too long for my liking, as I wondered if I had ruined everything. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "I wasn't trying to give you the wrong impression." She looked back up at me, and I could see the sadness in her eyes. "I don't act like this with anyone else. I like you, Chris. I like how easy it is to be myself around you, I'm just not interested in a relationship like that." She moved to pull her hands out from mine again, and this time I let go. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I can try to hold back around you."

I immediately regretted my decision and reached forward to take her hands back in mine. "Hey, none of that. You haven't done anything wrong, and I don't want you to hold back. Like I said, I'm not complaining. I'm just a boy, and like every other boy, I need big, flashing, neon signs to understand what's going on." I chuckled and raised a hand to wipe away a tear that was making its way down her cheek, glad that she laughed along. "I like you too, and I love what we have. I wouldn't want to lose it for anything."

She lunged forward and threw her arms around me. I felt damp tears on my neck, but I could tell they were tears of relief, so I wrapped my arms around her and rubbed circles on her back. "Forgive me for turning a lovely day into an incredibly awkward moment?" I asked playfully.

Her shoulders shook with laughter, and I heard her muffled voice, "Sure thing, farmer boy."

Later that day, as I planted my new seeds, I thought back over how the rest of my day with Abigail had gone. After clearing the air, we had laid back down on the grass to continue our cloud watching. I was relieved that things hadn't suddenly become awkward, and looking back, I realized that whatever it was that we shared hadn't changed. If anything, it actually felt like our connection had strengthened. I couldn't help but smile as I recalled taking her hand as we laid side by side. Maybe I didn't know exactly how to label what we had, but that wasn't important. She was Abigail, that was all that mattered.

When I finished, I stood and checked my watch. There was still plenty of time before I needed to get ready and leave, but as I looked around at the slowly changing farm, I didn't feel a need to push things. More and more, I was letting my heart make my choices for me, and my heart wasn't telling me that I needed to spend every free hour working. Instead, I decided to shower and get dressed for the evening, then pulled my guitar out of its case and sat on the porch, playing a few songs as I enjoyed the weather. This is nice, I thought to myself. I can't remember the last time I felt this good. That thought pulled me from my playing, and I realized that I hadn't had a single panic attack since I had come here. Seeing how run down the Blue Star was when I first arrived was the closest I came, but even that was nothing compared to what the grind in the city did to me on a routine basis. I smiled and continued playing until my fingers began to hurt. I'll have to make more time for playing, I thought as I rubbed my fingers.

Checking my watch again, I decided to head into town. It was still a bit earlier than I had planned, but I found myself eager to see the inside of the saloon. Along the way, I noticed a few potential forageables, but I hadn't brought my backpack and didn't want to dirty myself even if I had.

When I entered the saloon, I was surprised to be the first one there, aside from the staff. "Hi Gus," I called, seeing the portly man behind the bar, polishing glasses. "I didn't make a reservation, think you can squeeze me in?" I teased.

Gus laughed. "Good to see you again Chris. I think we can find a table for you. You're a bit early though, most don't start coming in until six or seven. I don't know if you've met, but this is Emily, she helps with the evening rush." He pointed to a blue-haired girl who was stocking a shelf with her back turned to me.

Emily turned at hearing her name and gave me a wide smile. "Oh, you're the new farmer, you've been the talk of the town I'll have you know! Nice to meet you!" She stepped down from the footstool she had been standing on, ran around the bar, and stood quite close to me, looking me up and down with her hand on her chin. "Ooh! You're fitting in quite well here, aren't you?" She said after finishing her inspection. "The valley agrees with you, I can see it in your eyes. You need to eat more though, all that hard work puts more of a strain on your body than anything you could have done in the city. What would you like for dinner?" she asked, already making her way back around the counter.

I couldn't help but chuckle, wondering if all the girls in town were so unique and… lively. "I'd like a pizza actually, something to share with new friends."

Emily frowned, then started walking toward a back room. "Well, since it's your first time in here, fine. But next time, you're eating something healthier!"

I chuckled again. "She's energetic, isn't she?" I remarked to Gus.

"That she is," he agreed. "Wonderful worker, just don't go trying to steal her from me to work on that farm of yours." I laughed along with him. Somehow Emily didn't seem like the type for manual labor. "Can I get you a drink?" Gus asked.

"I'll take a juice if you have it, water if not," I responded.

Gus pulled a bottle of apple juice out of an ice tray. "Just leave the bottle on the counter when you're done, we're big on recycling here." I nodded, then turned as he pointed to the side of the room where an open door frame stood below a neon sign reading 'Arcade'. "The younger folk generally hang out in there," he offered. "TV, pool table, couches, and games. Should keep you entertained until people start showing up. Pizza will be done in half an hour or so."

I nodded and rapped my knuckles on the bar, then walked into the side room. The first thing that caught my attention made me laugh. It was an arcade version of Journey of the Prairie King. The hi-score list was full of boys names, and I wondered if Abigail would be mad or proud if I got my name on it. Only one way to find out, I thought, putting a coin in and starting to play. I learned a bit more about the game playing it by myself. Picking up a special item while already carrying one activated it immediately, coffee made you run faster, and the coins that would drop would disappear after a short amount of time. I came across a new special item that turned me into a zombie and let me kill enemies just by running into them. That was fun, but also dangerous as there wasn't much warning when you were about to turn back. Another item teleported me and confused the enemies, causing them to freeze for a few moments. I managed to beat the first level and moved on to the next with four extra lives and six coins.

The second level was brutal, and I began to realize how important the random number generator was. I had several large waves come at me from all sides, with no special items dropping. It just wasn't possible to shoot fast enough to kill them all, or even make an avenue of escape. After losing two of my lives, I finally picked up a shotgun. Then another. And another. Those weapons easily carried me through the second level, when I was approached by an NPC selling items. I wasn't sure what they all did. The boots likely increased my movement speed, but I was more concerned with killing than moving quickly. There was a gun upgrade, and an expensive box I couldn't afford, so I went with the gun upgrade. I found out that it increased my firing speed. Well, that's useful, I thought. It was, but I clearly needed to work on my strategy. Each level had different fences that drastically changed the gameplay, and on the third level, I kept getting myself killed trying to get to the power-ups.

I could have gotten frustrated, but I was finding the game to be enjoyable. My second playthrough was a disaster, as I found myself making some rookie mistakes. I was still getting used to the control scheme, and would occasionally get my movement direction keys and fire direction keys mixed up. My next playthrough went quite well. I was figuring out how to use the fences to my advantage, and got some lucky power-ups, although I still lost more extra lives than I was comfortable with. The NPC showed up again, and I decided to go for the box powerup. It turned out to make my bullets more powerful, bringing down tougher opponents more quickly, but perhaps more importantly, piercing the weaker opponents and taking out two with one shot.

The next level was a boss level, with a man who shot at me from one side of the screen with a wide fence to hide behind, while I only had a narrow fence of my own. It only took me twenty seconds to figure out his pattern though, and find an easy exploit. After that, I ended up in a new 'area' with all new enemies and obstacles. I was sad to find that I didn't last long. I put my name in the machine, and was surprised to find myself in sixth place. The scores from second to tenth were all very close, with a noticeable gap between second and first. I surmised that the area I had died in was pretty difficult to get past. Oh well, I thought. Maybe with a little more practice, I can get up to first.

"Not bad, Chris," came a voice from behind me. I turned to see a blond-haired boy who looked like he was just out of high school. "You must be the new guy, I'm Sam."

"Huh? How'd you…" I started, then looked at my flashing name on the screen. "Oh. Heh, thanks Sam, it's nice to meet you. Abigail has told me a little about you, she invited me to come and hang out tonight."

"Is that right?" he asked with a smirk on his face. "Already getting to know the ladies?"

"Something like that," I said with a laugh. "Abigail gave me a tour of the town when I first showed up. I've only met her, Emily, and now you, not counting some of the adults." I paused. "The older adults, that is."

He laughed at that. "Hey, I understand. I think it will be a long time before I think of myself as an adult. Fancy a game of pool?" he asked, already setting up the table.

"Sure, why not?" I said. I had only played pool a couple of times in my life, and it showed. Sam destroyed me, and I had the feeling he was holding back, but he was generous in victory.

"Don't worry about it, all you need is some practice," he told me after sinking the eight ball. "Stay in town long enough and you'll get plenty of it, not like there's a whole lot of options around here anyway."

"I'm planning on staying a long time," I said, before realizing there were more voices coming from the main room. "I'm going to go check on the pizza I ordered, you're welcome to have a few slices when it's done." He thanked me and I walked back into the main room, surprised to see half a dozen new people milling about. The arcade room was more isolated from the noise than I had anticipated.

I walked up to the end of the bar where Emily was filling drinks. "How's the pizza coming?" I asked.

She looked up at me with that huge smile of hers. "About ten more minutes. Sorry about the wait, but we make everything fresh here. You can have a regular, or call ahead if you don't want to wait next time."

"It's no problem, I'm looking forward to it," I responded. I looked to my right where a disheveled-looking guy was leaning against the wall, sipping from a beer. Well, sipping wasn't the right word. "Hey, I'm Chris," I said, offering my hand.

He looked down at my hand, then back up at me, face expressionless. "I don't know you, why are you talking to me?"

"Oh, I'm just new in town, thought I would introduce myself, that's all," I replied, taken aback.

"Look, I'm here to drink, not socialize. Just leave me alone," was his response.

Not knowing what else to say or do, I just stood there awkwardly for a moment. I guess not everybody in town is all sunshine and rainbows, I thought.

"Chris, glad you made it!" came the familiar voice of the mayor. Grateful for the distraction, I turned to shake his hand. "It's good for you to take a break now and then. Your grandfather, bless his soul, always worked himself too hard in my opinion. So, how were your first nights in the old cottage?"

I spent a few minutes chatting with the mayor, telling him about how things had been going, before he began introducing me to the others in the bar. There was Willy, still smelling of fish, who was talking to the blacksmith. I met Harvey, the local doctor, Pam, who was a gruff woman, but friendly enough, and Marnie.

"I met Rocinante the other day," I told her. "She's a beautiful horse, incredibly friendly too."

Marnie seemed surprised at that. "Really? She was one of the most stubborn foals I ever raised. I'm glad she took to you though. Are you looking for a horse to help around the farm?" she asked.

I wouldn't lie, the idea appealed to me. It would make traveling to town and back a lot easier, and probably solve the problem of how much I could carry to Pierre's as well. "Not at the moment," I finally said. "I have a rough estimate of what that would cost, and it's going to be a while before I'm growing enough to be able to justify that."

"Well, she's young still, so keep her in mind if I don't find another buyer," replied Marnie. I nodded, then turned my head toward a table in the corner where a girl was drawing in a sketch pad. Ten bucks says that's Leah, I mentally bet myself. She had flaming orange hair that fell across her shoulder in a thick braid, was dressed in neutral forest colors that matched her cabin, and was sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on her drawing.

"If you'll excuse me," I said to Lewis and Marnie, before walking over to her table. She looked up as I approached, watching me with her violet eyes, eyebrows raised. I glanced at her sketchbook, seeing a rough drawing of the people in the saloon. I knew enough about art to know it was just a sketch, just laying down forms and figures, but it looked surprisingly alive for a piece at that stage. "Hi, I'm Chris," I said, offering my hand. "You wouldn't happen to be Leah, would you?"

She had started to return my handshake but paused when I said her name. I could see suspicion in her eyes as she looked me over. "I am," she replied, tentatively shaking my hand.

"Sorry, Abigail told me there was an artist living in that lovely cabin by the river. I saw you drawing and put two and two together." I pointed at her sketchbook, which she was slowly pulling toward herself as if wanting to protect it. "It's amazing how much life you managed to put into a sketch like that."

She stopped moving the sketchbook and looked down at what she had drawn, then back up to me. I could still see the hesitation in her eyes, a wall of sorts that she had up. But unlike with Shane, I wasn't put off by it, I felt like they were walls I wanted to see behind.

"It's nothing, just a rough sketch," she said.

"Still," I replied, taking a seat at the table. "I've tried my hand at art before, but I never was very good at it. My poses always end up stiff and unnatural. I think it's because I want to follow steps and rules too much. Everything you've drawn here is flowing, even the objects. It's really good."

She watched me as I spoke, and I could see the walls being lowered just a little bit. It was obvious how much she cared about her artwork, even 'just' the rough sketches. "You really think so?" she asked.

"Definitely," I replied. "I'm guessing those pieces on the notice board at Pierre's are yours too. Do you do anything else? Paint or charcoal?"

"Yeah, almost everything," she said, leaning back and relaxing a bit more. "Watercolor, oil, acrylic, pastel. I carve too, just about the only thing I don't do is sculpture. Something about stone... I've never enjoyed working with it."

"Wow," I said, thoroughly impressed. "Sounds like quite the resume. Pencil is the only thing I ever tried to stick with. Painting, well, let's just say I'm really messy with paints." She chuckled at that, but I didn't want to embarass myself too badly by saying more. "Watercolor always just turned into a muddy mess. Charcoal gets everywhere and I hate that. I've never tried sculpting or carving though, the closest I came to that would be my third-grade arts and crafts project. It was an ashtray." She burst into laughter when I admitted that. I liked the sparkle in her eyes when she laughed a lot more than the guarded look she had earlier.

"Everybody makes an ashtray in third grade. Couldn't you think of anything else?" she asked when she regained control of herself.

"Well," I started. How to put this? I wondered. "Let's just say there was a large gap between what my imagination and my hands were capable of." She laughed again, and I decided the embarrassment was worth it.

"Nobody starts out making masterpieces, you know? Everyone you've ever heard of started with stick figures and lumps that only a parent could be proud of. You just have to work at it."

"I know," I replied. I really did. Take my guitar for example. I wasn't amazing with it, but for the amount of time I had put into it, I knew I was better than I had any right to be. I had just never had the drive to put in the hours upon hours upon hours of work it took to really develop any of my talents. "I really do. It's just not something that I was ever passionate enough about to want to put in the work."

"As long as you understand," she said. "It bugs me when people act like talent is something you're just born with. I mean, yeah I think everyone has different things they are good at, but I've put a lot of effort into my art. It's annoying to hear people wave that effort off as 'just talent'."

I nodded along. "That would be annoying. I think trying to make a living as an artist is hard enough without people being insensitive about it. I think it actually makes art more enjoyable and… respectable when you understand how much work goes into it. Some people work their whole lives only to have one piece become well known… that takes dedication."

"Yeah, it's hard to make a name for yourself, that's for sure," she agreed.

Just then the door to the saloon flew open and in came Abigail. She stopped and looked around until she saw me, and I could see a storm brewing in her eyes. She took a step toward our table, paused, then turned and headed into the arcade room. I looked at Leah who was watching me with her eyebrows furrowed, then stood up.

"Sorry, but I need to go. It was nice meeting you, Leah. Would you mind if I stopped by your cabin sometime? I'd love to see more of your art."

She looked over at the doorway to the arcade room, then up at me. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, I just knew Abigail had mentioned her enough to know that they were at least friendly with each other, and I hoped Leah didn't think I had upset her friend. I didn't upset Abby, did I? I found myself wondering.

"No, I wouldn't mind," she finally said. "Just don't drop by too early, I'm not much of a morning person."

"Great, I'll probably come by next week. Have a nice night," I said with a smile, then turned to go find out what was bothering Abigail so much.

Author's Note: I apologize for how long it's been since I updated. I struggle with depression and anxiety, and I've been a bit down lately. I don't like to push myself on projects when that happens, which is why I said in an earlier note that I don't have a planned schedule for releasing new chapters. It might be once a month, or three in a day.

I was so excited to finally get to write Leah. There's a lot going on in my head for all the characters in this story, but I'm limited to what I can put out there in first person(at least, as far as I know how to write it). If anything about the characters seems strange, I hope it will make sense as you get to know my versions of them as Chris does.

I also realize that some people might find the little bit of drama with Abigail strange, but that's because of a bit of myself that I've put into Chris. I truly hate the relationship games a lot of people like to play, and prefer to just be up-front about feelings. I didn't want it to seem like forced drama, so I hope it didn't come across that way.

Anyway, thanks for reading, as always. Until next time!