Myra looked up at her new home, the obvious sadness evident on her face. Her mother ignored it, choosing rather to climb out of the only expensive thing she now owned and lock the doors behind her. The older of the two stepped around her vehicle and trailer, walking up the path to the beat up two-story home she had purchased through the bank loan she had to take out last week. Smiling, she looked back at her 19-year-old daughter, motioning for the girl to get out already.

Myra hesitated. Her fingers were still balanced on the locking mechanism for her door. Her fingernails were a chipped lilac purple; a polish she had received last Christmas from her grandmother. She didn't much want to get out and face all this change, so she stayed in the car. Her mother was already inside, opening windows and doors, probably fussing and complaining like usual.

They shared a lot of features. Their big blue eyes, strangely wild curly brown hair, and curvy figures were stand out points. Her mother was originally from The Dominican and her heritage was evident in her daughter. The only thing Myra truly got from her father was her personality and her attitude.

She made up her mind then to just get out already. Unlocking the door, opening it up, and then relocking it so it was secure after she shut it, Myra stepped into the California summer heat. Her skin was already covered in a sheen of sweat, and she smelled ripe, but she kind of thought of it as comforting. The first time her family had moved, an entire company did all of the packing, moving, and unpacking. She had left one house in the morning to go shopping with her mother, driving to the new home after, her room already put together.

There was an appeal of being normal when she had to box up her own room so quickly, all by herself nonetheless.

She thought for a moment about her school, and the faces her old friends would make if they could see her like this. No one at West Minister broke a sweat it seemed. High School was over though, College was a dead dream, and her newly split up parents were making their divorce so final so quick that her mother had to find a job two weeks after she walked in on her husband sleeping with the maid.

She had scored a job as a record financialist at Gateway Hospital just inside Echo Park, Los Angeles. It didn't pay as much as Myra's father's multimillion dollar law firm, so their new home wasn't exactly in the same category as their old.

Myra glanced around the neighborhood, eyeing up the cars that lined the road. The only one that seemed out of place was just across the street, a black sports car sitting in the driveway. She didn't know what it was but she knew it was fast, the sun catching the paint job and making it glimmer.

"Come on, I only have this U-Haul for another few hours. Let's get your stuff in then go get a burger."

Myra nodded, turning back to her mother, who was standing up on the porch, shielding her eyes from the sun above. What little they did have fit nicely in the U-Haul. No living room furniture yet, just their clothing and personal items. Her mother didn't feel like it was right to take any of the items from the house that she had bought with help from husband. The only furniture item she did take was their beds, mattresses and bedframes tucked in nicely, waiting to get pulled out.

"Need help?"

Myra turned around to eye up the stranger. He was maybe two inches taller than her, dark brown hair, and a beard growing in nicely. His young face, accompanied with baggie ripped jeans and a misbuttoned button up screamed his age; fresh out of high school, if he even went to school.

"We'd be grateful if you could help us with the beds! They're heavy." Her mother spoke.

"Hold on, let me get Dom." The boy turned around and jogged across the street, heading up the driveway past the pretty black car and into the house directly across from them. It was only a minute later that he emerged from the door, another boy following behind him. They crossed the street quickly, stopping in front of Myra and her mother, who had joined her there on the driveway.

The new boy was even taller. He stood at least four inches above Myra, his baldhead covered in a sheen of sweat. He had on cargo pants and a white wife-beater, sweat stains and grease stains all over him. His skin was bronze from the sun, and a layer of dirt gave him that extra edge. His muscles weren't all there but growing, she could see the definition in his arms and shoulders.

"Nice to meet the new neighbors. I'm Dominic, I live just across the street."

"It's nice to meet you Dominic. I'm Tammy, and this is my daughter Myra. Is this your brother?" Myra's mother motioned to the first boy who had spotted them, both boys growing smiles quickly. They exchanged glances, shaking their heads together.

"Afraid not. This is Vince. Been a lifelong problem for years now."

"He loves me, don't let him lie."

Myra's mother chuckled, grinning from ear to ear.

"Vince said you need some help moving in?"

"Yeah. We've only got a little but the beds are heavy. If you could help I'll take you guys out to lunch afterwards."

"Sounds like a deal." Dominic did not hesitate, heading over to the U-Haul and opening up the back. Myra crossed her arms and walked over, watching as Vince picked up two of the heavier boxes, looking at Tammy for guidance.

"Those go in the kitchen."

He nodded and headed on up the path, Dominic grabbing up a few more boxes and following behind him.

"See? It's not too bad."

Myra rolled her eyes, uncrossing her arms and picking up the next box. She followed after the two, stepping up through the front door as they waited for her to go through so they could head back out. She put the box down and pushed it back on the counter, making room for more. As she headed back out into the entrance Dominic stepped in, two boxes in his hands.

"Your mom said these are yours."

"I haven't picked a room yet."

"Let's go do that then." He moved towards the stairs and before she could ask him to just leave the boxes downstairs on the floor he was halfway up, waiting for her. She followed after him, stepping up on the landing as he put the two boxes down and headed down the hall to the left.

He opened all the doors, peering into closets and the bathroom. When he opened up the far room at the end and stepped in the darkened hall flooded with sunlight. He looked back at her, a large grin on his face, arms spread wide.

"I have found your new room."

She admired his smile. The room was large, windows on three of the walls, one of them looking out across the street at his house. She could see, just below, her mother and Vince as they moved boxes out onto the pavement.

"I can't believe Miss. Clayton finally went to a retirement home."

Myra turned to watch Dominic as he opened up her new closet doors with his foot, dropping the two boxes down just inside. His hands went to his hips as he joined her by the windows, chuckling as Vince tried to pull the mattress out by himself.

They stood in silence. Myra could feel his eyes on her, his body turning to face her as well. She stared hard out the window, eyeing up the house, his house, just across the street. She could make out the garage in the back and she wondered if there was a full backyard on the other side.

"You like cars?"

"I don't know." She turned to look at him, crossing her arms once again and smiling as best she could. "I honestly don't know what I like at all."

"That's strange." He rubbed his hand over his baldhead, looking at her confused.

"Yeah, I know."