Allison stopped singing suddenly and took a sharp right. “Oh my god, have you been down here lately?”

“No,” Ben said, wishing that they could have at least finished the song.

“It’s so different now, you won’t believe it!”

Outside the window was a neighborhood full of newly built houses. They were just three blocks over from where Ben lived, but he hadn’t paid attention to this housing development at all. He vaguely recalled his parents complaining about how these houses were just bigger and better enough to send their own real estate values down. Or up. He couldn’t remember which. Either way, they did look nice even though the yards were bare, aside from the spindly new trees injected into the ground.

“This all used to be fields when we were kids, remember?” Allison sighed. “We always used to play here.”

He did remember, although it was actually Allison and his sister Karen who had played together. He had tagged along a couple of times, but always against their will. A small age difference had ended that friendship. Once Karen was in high school, she felt being friends with a junior high kid would be social suicide, and so Ben was automatically promoted to Allison’s best friend. Allison tended to rewrite history, giving all of her memories with Karen over to him, which was flattering in a way.

“Shame about the willow tree,” she said, pointing to a tennis court and a small children’s playground. “Still, I wouldn’t mind living here.”

“It’s all right,” he said as he eyed the three-car garages and facades with yawning windows that revealed two-story-tall entryways inside. There was something about a new subdivision that Ben found both off-putting and alluring. What he didn’t like was how the houses were too new to have any character. None of them had been personalized yet by basketball nets, daring color schemes, out-of-control bushes, or curious lawn decorations. That there were only three or four cookie cutter houses in the neighborhood was all too apparent. This was the case with most neighborhoods, but the uniformity was obscured as individual touches over time changed the houses into homes.

What Ben liked came directly from what he disliked. The generic template was like a blank sheet of paper, and made it easier to imagine living in any of the houses he might like. In his mind Ben could choose what color he would paint it, how he would decorate it inside, and even what sort of job he would have and who he would live with. The idea made him yearn to be out of school so he could finally start a life of his own.

The buzz of a lawnmower matched the unhealthy sound of the car’s engine as they turned a corner. A familiar figure was pushing the machine across a yard that had barely managed to sprout grass yet.

“Pull over!” Ben yelled. “No! Not here!” he shouted when Allison headed for where Mr. Blue Shoes was mowing. Thankfully he wasn’t facing them and didn’t notice the car jerk away from the curb and back into the middle of the road.

“What the hell?” Allison complained. “I thought you were going to puke or something!”

“Sorry.” Ben fidgeted in his seat as he turned to glance out the rear window. “Just drop me off at the end of the block.”

“All right,” Allison said, peering suspiciously in the rearview mirror. “You know that guy?”

“Not yet,” he said with a smile as the car slowed.

Allison gave a surprised laugh. “You’re feeling brave today! Come by my place and get your things later then. If you aren’t busy, that is.”

“Shut up.” Ben grinned as he hopped out of the car. He waved at her as she drove away before walking in the direction of his infatuation.

Ben was used to this little ritual taking place in the evening. Being in broad daylight was making him nervous. He worried that he would stand out too much just walking down the road without any clear purpose. Ben wished he had… What? A clipboard or something? He could at least be out walking his dog.

Ben cursed himself mentally. Wilford! He could have been walking his dog all those nights he had oh-so casually passed by Mr. Blue Shoes. Magazines always claimed that dogs were good ice breakers. Maybe Mr. Blue Shoes was an animal lover. He probably was and would have stopped to pet months ago. Was it too late to start bringing the dog with him?

The rumbling of the lawn mower was close now but Ben didn’t dare look. What was he thinking? This was too obvious! He kept his eyes instead on the row of houses to the right and pretended to seek a specific address. I belong here, I belong here, he kept repeating in his head. Nothing odd about me being here, pay no attention.

The lawn mower buzzed to his left, then faded behind him as Ben kept walking. A risked glance over his shoulder revealed Mr. Blue Shoe’s sweaty back turning to continue mowing in his direction. Ben whipped his head around, hopefully without being noticed, and increased his pace. God, how he prayed that Allison had actually driven home and not turned the car around to watch him. Otherwise this pointless exercise would be humiliating. She expected that Ben was being all suave and chatting up a hot guy when in fact he could barely bring himself to look at him.

At least it was over now. Ben reached the corner of the street and turned, hearing a female voice yell something unintelligible. The sound of the lawn mower died and the voice repeated itself. “Tim, telephone!” Ben dared another glace back and saw Mr. Blue Shoes heading for the front door as a woman held out a cordless phone for him.

Once the coast was clear, Ben took off running down the street, laughing. Not only did he now know where he lived, but now he knew his name!

* * * * *

Allison was all grins as she tossed the shopping bag at him from across her waterbed where she sat. “Well? What happened?”

“His name is Tim.” Ben flopped down on the bed, creating waves that sent them both bouncing up and down.

“That’s a good start. So what did you say?”

“Well…”

Allison’s face dropped. “You did talk to him, didn’t you?”

“The lawnmower was running. What was I supposed to do, flag him down just to say hi? Besides, his mom came out of the house too.”

“So you hung around and eavesdropped?” Allison snorted. “I’d call you pathetic if I wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

Ben smiled and reached across to the headboard shelf where she kept her CDs in vinyl wallets. He chose one randomly and began flipping through. “So what do you think I should do?”

“I dunno. You’ll have to invent an excuse to talk to him.” Allison hoisted a sarcastic eyebrow. “Maybe go to his door and say you are selling Girl Scout cookies.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Ben replied. “Hm. I could always say that my cat’s gone missing.”

“Sure, except you don’t have a cat and what would it be doing inside his house anyway?”

Ben tossed the CD wallet aside and flopped on to his back with a groan. “There has to be something.”

“Well, there’s school in two weeks. Maybe he’ll end up in one of your classes.”

“Two weeks? I don’t want to wait that long!”

“You’ll live.” Allison glanced at the digital display of her alarm clock. “Dad’s home in ten minutes. Want to head back out and find those shirts?”

The two sentences weren’t unrelated. Allison’s father hated him. The feeling was mutual, but Ben dreaded there ever being a confrontation. The man was wound tighter than a spring, the bulging veins on his neck and temples beating out a warning every time he caught Ben visiting. He never spoke to Ben, even when greeted politely. In fact the only thing he had ever said to Ben was “cracker faggot” as he was leaving the house one day.

“Shopping it is,” Ben said with an uneasy glance at the clock. “But let’s go to the mall this time. There’s more people there.”

“Just in case?” Allison asked.

“Just in case.”