Thank you all so much for the feedback so far! :D I'm going to enjoy writing this one. ^.^ This chapter is a little on the short side, but I made it as long as I could without spilling over into what's going to be an interesting chapter two. ;)

Of all the places they had lived in, Santa Carla had to be the freakiest. But to be honest, that wasn't saying much; they were coming from a small town out of state, after all. Michael sighed as he looked out the rolled-down window; wind rushed in and swirled around the car, playing with the ends of his unkempt hair. The smell of sea salt and something unidentifiable but unpleasant assaulted his nose; he wasn't used to the scent of beaches, coming from dry Arizona.

It was hot here. Not as hot as the scorched desert he was coming from, but enough to make sweat form on Michael's back. He squinted his eyes through the bright sun, probably appearing pissed off to anyone who glanced through the window at him as they passed through the city. But no one did look at them; all the weirdos walking the streets, they all kept their eyes to themselves. It was nice, Michael thought. They were never awarded anything like that in Duncan. That was due mostly to Sam, his younger brother—but Michael had to admit that he, himself, never blended in either.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother peek at Sam in the back seat through the rearview mirror. She didn't frown, necessarily, but she didn't smile either. Sam was staring off into space as usual; that was normal by now, to Michael. But for Lucy, who had only seen her children on and off for the last few years, she wasn't sure what to make of it. When she had moved to Santa Carla for work-related reasons, leaving Sam and Michael with their butch of a father, she had been convinced that Sam was going through a phase. It started when he was ten, and as far as Michael knew, it had never gone away, nor gotten better. The thing that was "wrong" (Michael preferred the term "different") with Sam was between the blonde boy and his brother.

Of course, she was worried—Michael knew that she had to be. She was a hard-working mother who did what she needed to make ends meet, and focused on little else. It might be a slight inconvenience to her, to have them staying with her now that she was getting so far ahead in her time-consuming career, but inside of her, there was probably a piece that was glad they were coming to live with her now; maybe she could work on helping her youngest son.

Michael didn't like thinking such thoughts, though; it wasn't like there was something defective with Sam that they were going to attempt to fix. There was just…something weird going on. Something unexplainable, that only Michael had been willing to accept. Their father blamed it all on Sam being an insufferable brat. "Who develops ADD or autism or whatever the fuck this is at ten?" as the gruff man had said. He was right on the last part; it couldn't be anything like that. But what Sam had was nothing like ADD or autism, Michael knew. How their father had related it to that, he had no clue. But the man was never very bright to begin with.

Lucy had blocked most of it out, passing it off as a phase that would disappear the next time she came to visit. Michael had tried explaining to her what was really going on, but the stubborn woman was having nothing of it. He hadn't mentioned anything to her about it since, for Sam's sake.

They were driving down a long, dirt road that seemed to be on the outskirts of the city. It overlooked the water, but thankfully there was a cliff in place of a beach; there wouldn't be any weirdos wandering onto their property to snag a spot in the sand.

Lucy parked outside of the old house she grew up in, which she currently shared with her father. As Michael grabbed both his and Sam's duffle bags, he wondered where their grandfather was. They had only met on several occasions, since they lived a significant distance apart and the old man never liked leaving his property. That was just fine with Michael, though. The man was crazy, and Michael noticed he rubbed Sam the wrong way every time they were in the same room together, for reasons unknown to him.

As soon as they entered the stuffy house, Sam made a beeline up the stairs and into the first room on the right, as if he already knew that was going to be his room and he just wanted to lie down again. Michael knew Sam had very intense headaches that went along with his uncanny…perception—so he didn't blame his brother for behaving in such an "antisocial" way, as his mother had just commented to herself.

Michael opened up Sam's door, saw the blonde was lying on his back on the bare mattress with his arms pressed tightly against his eyes, and quietly set the duffle bag on the floor. He shut the door again gently, careful not to make any noises that would cause his younger brother any more discomfort.

His room was separated from Sam's with a bathroom that, after some inspection of the layout, they would be sharing. Michael felt like he should know the layout of his grandfather's house—but they had only been there when they were much younger, only three or four times. And even then, they had slept downstairs in the living room; his grandfather was weird about letting people into certain parts of his house.

Michael tossed his bag unceremoniously on the floor, leapt back down the stairs three at a time, and went straight for the front door. He fingered his keys in his jacket pocket and grinned to himself in anticipation. He wanted to take a ride through Santa Carla with his bike, to check out what the large city had to offer. He didn't even wait to hear what Lucy had to say about him leaving so abruptly; he jogged out the front door, down the stairs, and to the back of Lucy's truck. His bike was waiting for him. Michael tore off the tarp they had placed over it, smiling at the gleaming silver that winked proudly back at him. Oh, how he loved this bike.

He manhandled the bike out of the truck bed with some effort and propped it up on the ground. After marveling it for another moment, he got himself situated on it, started it up, and drove off down the road.

Michael wasn't out for very long—a little over two hours, if his watch was correct. He returned because he knew the sun would be setting in another hour, and while he wasn't a goody two-shoes, he wasn't going to start staying out all night already when he finally would be able to see more of Lucy. Plus, he was curious what was for dinner.

He barely pulled into the driveway before he caught sight of Sam bounding out of house, straight towards him. There was a fleeting moment of panic as Michael began to wonder what was wrong. He didn't cut his engine at the start of the driveway; he rode the bike right up to Sam, eyes wide and questioning. "Sam—?"

"Mike!" Sam shouted, and threw his arms around his brother's neck tightly. The blonde was hysterical, but Michael realized that it wasn't in panic or fear; he was giddy to the point of being frantic, which brought out a whole other feeling of worry in Michael.

Before he could say another word, Sam pulled back and gave him the biggest, happiest, brightest smile Michael had ever seen on him. It melted his heart a little, and while it was great…he had to wonder, why? Just how much had he missed?

"Canyoutakemetothecity?" Sam asked in a jumbled frenzy, nearly humming with excitement as he already went to climb on behind Michael.

"Uh…"

"MyheadacheisgoneandIfeel so much better!" Sam gushed. "I can think! I can hear! I…" He sounded nearly on the verge of tears, mixed in with his abnormal giddiness. "Let's go!" He squeezed Michael's sides and placed his chin on his brother's shoulder, waiting not-so-patiently. Michael turned his head to the front porch to see Lucy standing there, her expression unreadable. They exchanged a long look, and then Michael revved his engine and turned his bike around.