I held my breath as Bram's shiny SUV approached the iron gates guarding his house. Everything was as I remembered it. Every stone was placed strategically and every plant was lush and happy. Not a bit of grass grew through the cement.

How radically different this is from my life. I thought as I gazed over the perfectly landscaped lawn. How very different from my dirt driveway, my sagging porch, my lawn of tomato crop, and my dead bushes. Good different?

The car stopped and the engine quieted. Bram turned to me and gently took my chin into his hand. I averted my eyes to hide the fear lurking within, but his gaze was unavoidable. Our eyes locked as he began to speak,

"You will be fine. My mom has really come around. She knows what truly happened generations ago and although it isn't likely she will be great friends with your father, she realizes that you had nothing to do with the events in the tomato field that night. Tonight will be as smooth as silk. You'll see." His low whisper faded as his lips slowly met mine. Our lips moved as one and he slowly drew me close. A wet feeling came to my lips as his pulled his head back.

Sensing my insecurity he whispered, his face mere inches from mine, "I love you." He got out of the car and pulled me out. Holding fast to his hand, we approached the door. Anticipation pulsed through every vein in my body as Bram knocked on the door.

Mrs.Crutchfield opened the door with a smile on her face. But underneath her mask I could see the same fear in my eyes. Fear that hatred can't turn to love.

The evening continued as planned. We entered the house and waited in the living room for Hortensia to be done preparing dinner. The dining room was in it's full glory with a fresh picked center piece and dinner was delicious. Bram's little brother joined us and filled the empty spaces with mindless chatter. Mrs.Crutchfield remained fairly silent, only asking a few questions. My family was never mentioned, neither was our heritage. It seemed like an unspoken pact, that topic was just too fresh.

Throughout the night I silently saw east and west creeping back to their respective spots. I had hope.

After dinner we sat out on the patio and talked a bit. This was so much easier without having to lie.

"So you grew up on a farm, what was it like?" Mrs.Crutchfield inquired.

"A lot like you would expect. I have been working at the roadside store since I turned 12 and I am pretty good at growing things. When I was about nine I decided to grow my own garden. So I got seeds from my da­­—" I cut myself off at the terrified look from Mrs.Crutchfield, "I got seeds and planted my own little garden. I had a cucumber plant, a tomato plant, some cabbage, strawberries, and a potato plant. That garden now supplies my family with almost all of our produce needs"

"Really!" Mrs.Crutchfield exclaimed, "Well look at the time. I better go get Josh ready for bed. I'll leave you two kids alone." She got up and went inside the house.

I turned to Bram, who sat on the loveseat next to me.

"So…" I said, "Should you drive me home?"

"Well, it is Saturday night. And neither of us have anywhere to be until Monday morning…."

"And your mother and younger brother are upstairs."

"We could go down to the gazebo."

"And talk."

"Talk. Sure." I could see he was starting to get some ideas.

He grasped my hand as we strolled across the lawn; we passed his in-ground pool and made our way down the hill toward the gazebo residing at the edge of woods. We entered the gazebo and he immediately pulled me tight. I could feel every inch of his body pressed up against mine and it didn't take his lips to find mine. He ran his hand up my back as his lips caressed my neck, his lips made their way back to mine and a strong lust pulled at us both. But he stopped. He stopped and we stood in a solid embrace for minutes on end. Finally I lifted my head off his chest and we sat. Our hands entwined as we sat talking about nothing in particular.

It must have been hours later before I realized how much time had passed. I looked up at the house and all the lights were off. The only sound was the bugs and Bram's voice saying something about the book he was reading.

"And then the Klingon leaves the next mor—"

"What time is it?" I said, panic creeping into my voice.

"Uhh," Bram looked at his watch, "12:43" My eyes widened in horror.

"I was supposed to be home an hour and 43 minutes ago!" I stood up. "Shit!"

"It's okay. Your parents aren't very strict and you might even be able to get in without them noticing."

"Bram. Don't you understand?! It's not me I'm worried about. It's you. Here I am trying to make you look like a good guy and now I'm out an hour and 42 minutes passed my curfew!" I practically shouted.

"43." He mumbled

"What?" I said incredulously.

"43 minutes."

"Not the time. Not the time."