Jackson grinned, his green eyes sparkling in the light. “She won’t,” he said confidently.

“Why not?”

“Because she has a crush on me.” He shook his body like he was shuddering and scrunched his face to look disgusted.

“Really? She does?” I looked at Jackson and wondered if it was true. I could see how some girls might think he was cute, with his pretty, green eyes and tousled warm-chestnut hair. But I didn’t like boys. My mom always told me they will only make girls cry, and I didn’t like to cry.

“You can eat at my table, if you’d like.”

“I can?” I looked at him eagerly. “You don’t think I’m dirty?”

“Nah. Kids are supposed to be a little dirty. If you’re not dirty, you’re boring.”

I giggled and liked his reasoning. Maybe he’s not so mean after all, I thought.

When we got to his table, the two other boys said hi to me quickly before going back to their conversation about yesterday’s episode of Batman.

“Do you watch cartoons?” Jackson asked me.

“A little,” I said noncommittally.

“What superhero would you be if you could choose?”

I stared at him and giggled. Is this what boys talked about? “I don’t know. Who would you be?”

“I’d be Michelangelo!” He got up from his seat, clenched his fists and made a karate move in front of me. “He’s funny and loves pizza the most. I love pizza!”

“Okay.” I tried not to giggle at how excited he was.

“I know everything about the Ninja Turtles. It’s my favorite show.” He sat back down next to me. “Since you don’t know who you’d be, you can be April O’Neil.”

“Why?”

“Because the Ninja Turtles saved her life, like I saved you earlier.”

I rolled my eyes. “The Ninja Turtles are just large turtles who got lucky and had Master Splinter train them.”

His eyes lit up and he leaned toward me. “So you do watch the show.”

“I don’t,” I denied, even though secretly, it was one of my favorite shows.

“You wanna come over and play after school? We can watch it together?” He seemed to have ignored me completely.

I stared at him and tried to remind myself that he had made fun of me last week.

“Why would you want me to watch it with you?” I looked at him dubiously.

“Because we’re friends, silly.” He rolled his eyes. “Duh!”

“Friends?” I tilted my head and looked over at him, wondering if I heard him correctly.

“Yeah. Why?” He frowned. “You don’t wanna be my friend?”

I shrugged. “I’ve never had a friend before.”

“Never?” He looked at me in surprise.

I bowed my head and shook it slowly, feeling embarrassed about this. “There weren’t any kids where I lived.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Well, that means, I’ll be your first friend!”

I couldn’t help but smile at what he said.

“So, Ninja Turtles after school, then?”

I smiled, feeling happy that I’d met a new friend—my very first friend.

CHAPTE R SEVEN

November 1994

Nine Years Old

“I seriously love your aunt.” Jackson licked his spoon, savoring the last traces of the chicken pot pie I’d brought over.

I shook my head in amazement, looking from Jackson’s empty plate to my barely-eaten pot pie. “You know, if I didn’t know you lived in a huge house like this, with a fridge stocked full of food, I’d think you hadn’t eaten a decent meal in weeks.”

He laughed. “Well, you’re just spoiled and don’t understand how delicious your aunt’s cooking is.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I only had to look around at Jackson’s house to know what he’d meant. While his house was almost twice the size of mine, it didn’t nearly feel as comfortable. Besides Jackson’s room, every other room of the house looked like they’d come straight out of some interior design magazine. Everything looked expensive and immaculate, but felt cold and not lived in.

“Coaster,” Jackson warned as he watched me almost place my glass of water on the bare maple dining table.

“Oh, oops.” I flashed him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I always forget.”

Jackson relaxed a little. “It’s okay. My mom’s just a little picky about everything.”

“Yeah, I know.” I looked around. “Everything’s spotless.”

He shrugged. “Like it matters. It’s not like they’re home much to even enjoy it.”

I frowned and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Your parents work really hard to take care of you. I’m sure if they had a choice, they’d much rather be home than be stuck at work all the time.”

He sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I just wish we had regular family dinners like you guys, and not once every week or so.”

“Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom are great,” I admitted, “but I would give almost anything to be able to have weekly dinners with my mom and dad,” I said wistfully.

“Crap. Sorry, Chloe. I shouldn’t be so insensitive sometimes when I complain about my parents.”

I flashed him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. You’re not being insensitive. You shouldn’t feel bad for wishing your parents were more around for you.”

“Yeah, but I feel like such a jerk when I do. Your dad died before you were born and you don’t get to see your mom that often—”

“It’s okay,” I said, cutting him off. I didn’t really want to be reminded of what I didn’t have. “Let’s talk about something else.” I tried to sound cheerful as I forced a smile on my face.

Just then we heard the door to the garage open down the hall.

“Jackson? You home?” a voice called out.

“Hey, Dad. In the dining room,” Jackson called out.

“Well, look who’s here,” Mr. Pierce said with a smile as he walked through the entrance the kitchen.

“Hi, Mr. Pierce.” I returned his smile.

“Now, now. Call me John, Chloe. ‘Mr. Pierce’ makes me sound old.” He chuckled.

But you are old, I thought to myself, but would never dare to say out loud. I forced a small laugh. “Ok…John.”

“Much better.” He then turned to Jackson. “Sorry, my office hours ran a bit late this afternoon. Finals are coming up, so I’ve been getting a line of students with last minute questions. Did Maria leave already?”

“Yeah, she left about an hour ago. She said your dry cleaning is in your closet.”

“Okay, great.” He looked at his watch. “Did she order you dinner?”

“No, Chloe’s aunt sent over some chicken pot pie, so I told Maria not to order me anything for dinner.” Maria was the person Jackson’s parents had hired to look after him when they weren’t home.

“That’s so nice of her.” He then turned to look at me and smiled. “Please tell your aunt ‘thank you’ for me, Chloe.”

“Sure thing.”

As Mr. Pierce walked past us, he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. “Thanks for taking care of my son. I don’t know what he’d do without you.”

I blushed.

“Dad, stop it. You’re embarrassing me,” Jackson complained as he got up from his chair. “We got to get going. We’re going over to hang out at the park for a bit.”

Mr. Pierced laughed as he walked over to the fridge and took out a bottle of water. “You know, Chloe,” he began, looking backed at me, “it takes a special girl like you to make Jackson embarrassed and flustered. Don’t break his heart.” He then winked at me before taking a swig from his water bottle.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable with his comment, I quickly explained, “We’re just friends, Mr. Pierce.”

“John,” he corrected.

“Right. Sorry. John. We’re just good friends.”

“Good to know.” He looked between us. “Well, I’m heading up to my office. I still have some papers to grade.”

“Good night, Mr.—I mean, John.”

“Have a nice night, guys. Don’t stay out too late.”

“We won’t, Dad. See yah.”

It took me and Jackson fifteen minutes to walk to the park from the house. Besides Jackson’s treehouse, the small lake at the center of the park was one of our favorite places to hang out. It was a cold night and the park was showing its beginning signs of winter. But after our walk, the cold air felt nice against my face. The sun had just disappeared beyond the horizon and we were lying on the grass next to the lake, staring up at the sky and watching the stars begin to appear.