Being the new kid on the first day of high school could never be fun. Having just moved to Boston after living in South Glens Falls all Marco's life was equally not as fun. Put the two together, and boy, was it a rodeo. His family had moved to Boston in the last weeks of August prior to the school year due to a major job opening for his mother. Marco hadn't wanted to leave the quiet comforts of SGF and the Marathon Dance at South High. He'd only been part of two dances, as a freshman and again as a sophomore. He'd be starting his junior year without his friends at home, his winters at West Mountain, his summers at Lake George. Technically, Glens Falls was a city, but it was nothing like Boston. Boston was all lights and cars and sounds, while home had been quiet nights and the distant beat of cars on the northway. Everything was so different. They'd moved into an house close to the school about a week ago, and Marco had one more week before school started at Fenway High School.
He was sitting in the living room on their new dark gray couch, texting one of his friends from home, Selah. She'd lived near SGF, in Gansevoort. She went to the same high school as he did.
Marco: how's it at home?
Selah: same old, fboys trying to party before school starts, neighbors kept me up blasting some gangster crud
Marco: Oh boy, was it the entire lacrosse team again?
Selah: yep. It was our good friend hats a lot and his salty boyfriend
Marco: ah, those two
Selah stopped responding, so Marco put his phone down and turned his attention to the TV, where the local news anchor was currently describing a murder near the Boston Commons.
Wonderful, Marco thought. Cities come with crime too. His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing.
"Could you get that, Marco?" His mother called from upstairs. Marco stood up and walked to the front door, which he opened, and was subsequently greeted by a mother and son. Or at least he assumed they were a mother and son.
"Hello there, I'm Rose Kirschstein, and this is my son Jean. We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! We always bake bread for new neighbors." The woman held out a loaf of bread wrapped in tinfoil.
Marco hadn't exactly been listening to her, he'd been looking at the boy, Jean. He was tall, with undercut hair that was blond on top and dark under. He had bright amber eyes and a quirky smile. He wore cuffed skinny jeans and a band tee, as well as an earing in his left ear. Marco found himself thinking, well damn, but quickly cleared his mind and took the bread from Rose.
"My name's Marco, thank you very much!" Marco smiled as his mom came down the stairs in a hurry to greet her neighbors.
"And I'm Johanna! Nice to meet you both!" His mother took the bread from him. "We moved in last week from Upstate New York."
"Boston must be very different for you, then!" Rose looked back at Marco. "What grade are you going into this year, Marco?"
"Eleventh. At Fenway." He smiled again, though it was directed more at Jean. Jean smiled back, that same quirky smile that was almost a smirk. Damn.
"Sick I'm gonna be a junior too. We might have some classes together. I could show you the school." Jean spoke for the first time, his voice betraying his mother's sweet voice. His was more, like a guy's, yes, but there was something else in his voice that Marco couldn't quite pinpoint.
"Oh, wonderful!" Johanna spoke for Marco. "We've been wondering when he could explore the school, but if you could show him, that'd be great!"
Jean nodded in response and turned to Marco. "Number's 741-9887. Whenever you wanna go over there, let me know."
"Thanks, Jean."
"Would you two like to come in? We made lemonade yesterday, and my daughter Maia made macarons too. She's with one of the other neighbors right now, but she wouldn't mind!" Johanna stepped aside to let them in.
"We'd love to, right Jean?" Rose stepped inside, but Jean lingered outside.
"Sorry, but I'm supposed to be with Connie at the skatepark." Jean turned as his mother stepped further in with Johanna. "Text me later, Freckles." He turned his head over his shoulder with a wink.
Marco stood in the door, dumbfounded, as Jean walked away. The wink.
Oh jeez.
Oh dear.
Oh God.
Hot damn.