I shrug. “Unfortunately, a lot of kids don’t have an old man musician father who knows all the classics.”
“Old man?” His brow arches. “Ha, ha, you’re a riot, Lyric Scott.”
I innocently grin at him. “I wasn’t trying to be a riot. Just telling the truth.”
He chuckles and I laugh with him. My laughter silences, though, as the Gregory’s enormous sedan rolls up the drive.
I sigh as my gaze instantly drifts to the backseat, searching for the scared little puppy dog. All I find is what appears to be a guy crammed in with the rest of the Gregory clan. I’m not one-hundred percent sure what he looks like, since I don’t have a clear view into the backseat, so I wait in anticipation until the sedan parks and the clan piles out.
Normally, the newbie remains in the backseat, too afraid to leave the vehicle. This one just hops right out and rounds the car toward us as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
He doesn’t look like the rest of them either. Honestly, he kind of looks like Uncle Ethan in the pictures I’ve seen of him when he was younger. Black hair, dark eyes, tall. He’s dressed head-to-toe in black, wearing a … I squint to see if I’m seeing things correctly. Yep, he’s wearing a leather collar around his neck.
I’m not sure what to make of this. What it says about him. At my school, the kids who dress like this are the rebellious troublemakers. Is that how he’s going to be? Part of me is thrilled at the idea, while the other fears it.
“Everyone, this is Ayden,” Aunt Lila introduces him with the proudest smile as she gently places her hand on Ayden’s shoulder.
Ayden glances at her hand, and by the hardness in his eyes, I expect him to get angry with her, but he doesn’t utter a word.
“And, Ayden, these are our neighbors, Micha and Ella Scott.” Lila motions her hand at me. “And this is their daughter, Lyric.”
Smiling, I wave. “Hi.”
He doesn’t say hi back. Doesn’t wave either. He just stares at me. And stares. He stares so long that I get a bit uncomfortable, especially because of the sadness radiating from his eyes. It’s kind of hard to endure and makes me feel subdued. I consider ducking behind my dad to escape his stare down, but I’m guessing I’d get scolded for being rude so I keep my feet planted and focus on my fingernails, picking at the black nail polish.
I listen to everyone yammer, squirming more and more the longer Ayden’s sad eyes remain fastened on me, as if he’s daring me to figure out all of his secrets, his weirdo side, his shady past.
Finally, we all file inside the house and I breathe freely again as he stops focusing on me and instead zeros in on his new home.
Lila starts giving him a tour of the house while Ethan leads the other three rugrats into the kitchen with my dad.
I start to go with my dad, but my mom captures me by the back of my shirt and tows me back to her. “Let’s go with them.” She nods at Lila and Ayden as they ascend the stairway.
I scrunch up my nose as I recollect Ayden’s intense, depressing stare. “Do I have to? He looks so sad, and his staring is making me uncomfortable.”
“All the more reason to spend time with him.” She signals for me to get a move on. I reluctantly obey, but stand as far behind as I can without looking too antisocial.
Luckily, Ayden seems more engrossed with the home and his room than me. He doesn’t even glance my way as he takes in each wall, piece of furniture, and framed pictures. But when we all gather around the table for dinner, he ends up sitting across from me, and the stare down begins again.
I attempt to avoid his gaze as he watches me pick at my salad. As I chow down on my burger. As I chat with Fiona about her art obsession. The longer the staring goes on, the squirrelier I become, until I can’t take it anymore.
Throwing my napkin onto the table, I slump back in the chair, cross my arms, and stare at him in the same manner.
At first, he appears unfazed, but as the minutes tick by, he starts to look almost amused.
Interesting.
Without removing his eyes from me, he picks up his drink and guzzles a long swallow. I do the same. We simultaneously place our glasses down. He pauses then drums his fingers on the table, either testing me or playing with me … I’m still not sure yet.
Intrigued, I thrum my fingers, too.
He fiddles with the small black and red gauge in his left ear. I only have one piercing in each of mine and no earrings in right now, but I still pretend to mess around with an invisible gauge.
He rolls his tongue across his teeth, the smallest trace of a ghost smile emerging. I feel like I’ve won a game and delve forward, determined to make that sadness crack.
“Oh, Lyric, let me play, too!” Fiona clasps her hands together as she kneels up on her chair. “Pretty please. I’ve never had a brother to play copycat with before. Kale and Everson always get so angry.”
I smirk at Ayden then turn to her. “I think Ayden would love to play with you.” I rise from the table, take my dirty dishes to the sink, and sneak outside to get some fresh air.
As I’m sitting on the curb in front of the house with my legs stretched out, I catch Ayden gawking at me through his upstairs bedroom window. I tip my head to the side, wondering just how long this whole staring thing is going to last. He hasn’t even spoken a word yet.
Maybe he doesn’t speak.
“Lyric!” my mother suddenly shouts, and I tear my attention away from the window. She’s exiting the house with Lila, both of them elated about something. “Ready to go out on a drive with us?”
“Surely durely.” I stand up and brush the dirt off the backs of my legs then start to follow them to my house when Lila glances back at me.
“Lyric, would you mind running up and telling Ayden to come with us?” she asks, hopeful. “He seems a little nervous except when he’s around you.”
My brows furrow. “He hasn’t even said a word to me, so how do you arrive at that conclusion?”
“Well, you two were playing that little staring contest game at the table.” She adjusts the pale pink strap of her purse higher on her shoulder. “I would really appreciate it, sweetie.”
My Aunt Lila is way too nice to argue with, so I reel around to go get Ayden, but then halt before I reach the front steps.
“Aunt Lila, does Ayden … talk?” I dare ask, facing her again.
“Of course, sweetie. He’s just a little nervous. Things have been hard for him, and I think he’s feeling a little overwhelmed.”