Bridget glanced over at her younger brother Milo as Rosetta, him, and her walked home after school. Milo was only a year younger than Bridget, who was fourteen. He was the same height as her (and still growing), with brown-red curly hair that ended just above his eyebrows. Bridget's mother was always fussing after his hair, trying unsuccessfully to brush the hair to the side so he wouldn't hurt his neck flicking it to the side himself like so many other boys his age did. Milo and Bridget looked alike except for their eye color. Whereas Bridget's were blue-green, Milo's were completely green, which many girls found attractive despite the fact Milo already had a girlfriend. "How was your day Milo," asked Bridget, still slightly distracted with thoughts of Oliver's eyes lighting up every time he saw her that day. "Pretty good actually," Milo said cheerfully, "I got first chair in band despite the fact I haven't been practicing at all this summer". "That's awesome Milo!" Exclaimed Rosetta, high-fiving him enthusiastically. "That is pretty radical," said Bridget smiling about Milo's news. Although Milo often times denied it, he was really good at playing the French horn. "Radical?" questioned Milo and Rosetta in unison looking at Bridget puzzled. "Isn't radical just um, just a tad too cheesy and old for you Bridget?" Milo asked, looking at Bridget waiting for an explanation. "I'm just trying to bring it back," Bridget replied raising her eyebrows at Milo, "besides, sometimes it's cool to bring back words, like cowabunga, or frabjous." Milo and Rosetta burst out in obnoxious laughter about Bridget's mistaken definition of cool just as the trio had reached the corner that turned onto their street. Looking both ways, they turned down their street and in succession Rosetta, Bridget, and Milo, went to their houses which were right next door to each other, to be welcomed in by their overjoyed mothers. Bridget hugged her mother, and answered the commonplace question of how her day went. "Really good, I made a lot of friends today," Bridget answered to her mother, who handed her a brownie on a napkin and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. "That's great darling, now if you'd please hurry and do your homework so we can have the evening free to prepare for dinner with the Matthews's," said Bridget's mother distractedly as Bridget rolled her eyes, and trudged up the stairs to begin on her math homework, which that evening was a whole slew of Pythagorean theorem problems which weren't that hard. Bridget sat down at her desk and unzipped her bag pulling out her math notebook and book, and starting on her assignment, preparing herself for the upcoming dinner that was to take place at her house later that evening with math problems and Oliver circling in her head. Shaking her head to clear it Bridget sighed, and pulled out a pencil and calculator. With images of Oliver still fluttering around her head, Bridget tackled her math homework in record time, and flopped down on her bed to daydream before her mother called her down for dinner. Looking at her sky blue walls covered in artwork, posters, and various photos, Bridget began to daydream about Oliver. It was going to be a pleasant evening indeed at the rate she was going at. Goody.