“Rise and shine!” someone sang in my ears, and it took me a few minutes for me to adjust and realize that it was Phoebe.

“No,” I groaned, pulling a blanket further on top of me and cuddling into its warmth.

“Yes,” she whispered loudly into my ear.

“Why, woman?”

“The furniture is here! And the electrician has already stopped by and fixed the outlets and such! Let there be light!” Phoebe sang again excitedly. I flipped her off, given that none of it really made a difference to me, anyway.

“Have fun with all of that, Phoebes. I’m going back to my dream,” I said, snuggling into my covers further.

“No, wake up,” she pressed further, her voice low and serious. I felt something cold, damp, and squishy connect with my cheek, alarming me into a more awake conscious.

“Phoebe Montgomery,” I hissed. “Did you just lick me?” I exclaimed.

“Yes. That’s what you get for being lazy. It is literally one in the afternoon,” she informed me. “Wakey, wakey,” she sang, and I sighed in defeat.

“Alright, I’m up, I’m up,” I raised my hands up in a surrender.

“It’s about damn time!” she said happily. Phoebe was a morning person—she has probably been awake for five hours by now. I, on the other hand, was not a morning person. I liked my sleep. Specifically, I liked my dreams. The only time I can see.

“What are we doing today?” I asked, sitting up with my legs crossed on top of my sleeping bag. I didn’t get up to walk around, considering the fact that I wouldn’t really have a clue where I was going.

“Well, we can’t do anything until we get you familiarized with the house,” she said, as if she could read my mind.

“Yay,” I said sarcastically. I knew that it was necessary, but it was also a pain in the ass. I felt bad for Phoebe, too; when I was in a new place, trying to figure things out, trying to get a routine or pattern, I might as well be a kindergartener.

“Come on, buddy. It won’t take long,” she reassured, and I felt the air around me suddenly shift—Phoebe reaching out to grab my hand. I swatted at the air only for a moment until our hands clasped together, and, with her assistance, I pulled myself up onto my feet.

“Ugh, effort,” I groaned. Phoebe chuckled, and, I assumed, rolled her eyes. She held onto my hand gently as she led me to our ‘starting place’.

“This is the front door,” she said. “Right now you are facing the inside of the house. Now turn around,” she spun me around, “and now you are facing the door.” She grabbed my left hand and brought it to the doorknob. “Do your thing with the door,” she giggled, and I rolled my eyes. I felt around the door, memorizing the placement of the doorknob. I stepped backwards on my own, spun around a few times, and reoriented myself with the door. It took a few tries, but I successfully found the knob. I turned it and opened the door, the movement causing my hair to blow back a little. The cool air caressed my skin lightly, and I smiled, feeling the sun beating down on my face.

“Okay, I think I’m good with this,” I said, closing the door. I felt it one last time, feeling comfortable with its location. It didn’t really mean much to me, yet, though—it would all make more sense once I have relative locations of other places.

I learned that the area in front of the door was a shallow foyer. To the right was a small set of stairs, leading up to Phoebe’s bedroom, a closet or two, and a bathroom. Standing in front of the door and facing the interior of the house, I took the exact eight steps into the kitchen. Six steps to the left was the living room and along the walls were a few bathrooms, the door to my own room, and the door to a guest bedroom. There was also a back sliding door, leading to a small backyard, and, to my excitement, a beach (Phoebe had neglected to tell me that we were a beach front home, wanting to surprise me). For each spot, I did what I did with the door: I memorized it with my hands, spun around a few times, reoriented myself, and felt it again. After I did that, I compared the location of the new spot relative to the door—everything went back to the front door, my origin. Maybe it was a weird process, but, hey, it did the job.

“I feel good about this,” I said.

“Good. You did good, buddy,” she patted my head.

I sighed. “Now what?”

“We can do whatever we want! We have the entire rest of the week free until—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know!” I snapped, cutting her off. Immediately, though, I regretted my tone. “Sorry, Phoebes,” I mumbled.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I know you’re nervous,” she said, rubbing my arm sympathetically. I instantly relaxed.

“Yeah,” I said with a shaky breath. “Anyway,” I said with more enthusiasm, shaking my head. “What’s on your agenda, pumpkin? What do you want to do today?” I asked. I was tired of everything always being about me; I wanted Phoebe to enjoy herself.

“I don’t have anything planned as of right now,” she said.

I yawned. “I could go for some coffee right now, actually,” I suggested. I knew Phoebe loved going to cafes, so I hoped there was one close by.

“Let’s go to Starbucks! There’s one down the road,” she said. I nodded.

Phoebe grabbed my hand, but I shook it out. “I’m going to try and walk through the house myself,” I said.

“Okay. Do you know where you are right now?”

“The kitchen,” I replied.

“Good. Go ahead,” she said.

I stood up out of the chair I was sitting in. I imagined that we had boxes everywhere, but they were all on countertops and tables so I didn’t trip. I felt bad for Phoebe—she would have to deal with unpacking herself. Maybe we could make a few friends and have them help her, I thought.

“Hey, focus, woman,” she snapped her fingers in front of my face, and I slightly jumped. I was, yet again, amazed with Phoebe’s ability to read my facial expressions. I wondered what it was like to look at someone’s face and being able to tell what they were thinking…

I bet Phoebe was pretty. She was so nice, and I bet her internal beauty radiated on the outside, too.

I shook my head. “Sorry, okay, here goes nothing,” I said. I extended my arms in front of me, walking forward slowly until I felt a wall. I recognized the feeling of cabinets, and I knew we only had cabinets on the side of the wall that was closest to the door.

I took three steps to the right until the wall ended, and then I took eight steps forward. I grinned in success when my hand felt for the doorknob, and I opened it up proudly.

“Boom shackalacka!” I fist pumped.

“Nice Faye!” Phoebe shook my shoulders happily, and I grabbed her hand for her to lead me to her car. I stopped wondering a long time ago what it would be like to drive myself places.

We drove peacefully to the nearest Starbucks, chatting about random and lighthearted things. I was the kind of person who didn’t like talking about serious matters—I always became closed off and moody.

The car eased to a stop, and I heard the engine shut off. I unbuckled myself, but I waited in the passenger seat for Phoebe. I didn’t want to accidentally swing the door open into another car, or, worse, navigate the parking lot blindly.

“Sometimes I feel like you are a chivalrous man,” I teased, hooking my arm through hers.

“Sometimes I feel like you are an asshole,” she replied. I laughed, and I shivered when we entered the Starbucks—it was freezing in here.

“What are you getting?” I asked.

“Hm… I’m think that I am going to switch it up a little and keep it simple with a caramel frappuccino,” she contemplated.

“That sounds good, actually. Yeah, I’ll get that, too,” I said.

“Okay, sit down, and I will be back,” she said, pushing down on my shoulder gently until I made contact with a leather booth. I smiled thankfully at her and sat peacefully in the seat. Sometimes I felt a little silly—her always sitting me down and ordering for me—but I knew it was out of my control. I guess I was beginning to really itch to be able to do things for myself, the closer and closer I was getting to the possibility. It was as slim as a crack in a windshield, but it was there, nonetheless. Maybe.

I sighed, pushing the thoughts out of my head. Thinking like that was only going to make me crazier than I already was. Thinking like that was only going to make me rip my own hair out, as if doing so would lift my pathetic eyes open for real.

“Voila!” Phoebe chirped, and I heard the leather cushion sigh as she sat across from me. I brought the frappuccino up to my lips, savoring the sweet and cold flavor that danced down my throat.

“Yum,” I smiled in satisfaction. “Just what I needed.”

“Me too, buddy,” Phoebe agreed. “Hey, do you want to take these to go? It’s freezing in here, and I have an idea of what else we can do,” she added.

“Yeah, sure! Let’s go!” I said, a shiver running through my body as she reminded me how cold it actually was in here, mixed with our frozen drinks.

“Where are we headed?” I asked while she led us back to her car.

“Well, I was thinking we could sit here in the car for a minute, and I was going to look up some music on YouTube from those guys we met last night,” she suggested.

“Oh, that’s a good idea!” I said. Phoebe’s company, frappuccinos and music; I liked the combination.

I sunk into the passenger seat, listening to Phoebe connect her phone to her car radio. “Hm, let’s see,” she murmured, I guess looking through options to listen to.

“You decide,” she declared.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll name a few songs, and you pick which one you want to hear first,” she said.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay, go on.”

“Um, okay. The top three hits are King for a Day, Bulls in the Bronx, um… no that’s an interview… and Caraphernelia,” she said.

I scrunched my mouth up, thinking. “King for a Day sounds interesting,” I suggested.

“Okay! Oo,” she giggled. “It’s a music video,” she said. She pressed play, and the car stereo filled with conversation. “It’s an introduction,” Phoebe told me as people started to talk and shuffle around. “Oh, my God, Faye, he’s so cute,” she gushed, and I giggled, wishing I could see for myself but enjoying hearing Phoebe like this.

After a minute, music started to play, and Phoebe squealed. I smiled broadly—I already could tell that they were a good band.

“Damn, they are actually so serious. Like, they are the real thing, Faye! I can’t believe we actually met them,” she said. The voice of the song changed, and I looked at her curiously. “Oh, the song features another guy,” she told me, and I nodded. We sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the song. Phoebe occasionally giggled or squealed—she was so cute.

“That song was amazing,” I said. “Play another!” I grinned.

“Yeah, it was! It’s from their newest album, apparently. Ugh, I love finding new music! But it’s kind of weird that we sort of know them, isn’t it?” she rambled, and I nodded in agreement. I honestly didn’t think they were going to sound so professional—like Phoebe said: they were the real thing.

She played a few other songs, which I liked, as well. “I’m actually kind of surprised that we’ve never heard of them before,” I noted.

“Yeah, me too! This is the kind of stuff we listen to, anyway. We must live under a rock or something,” she said.

“Yeah, seriously,” I said.

“It’s still so funny to me that we met them last night. They seemed so normal, but here, in this video, they are like rock stars. Faye! Make it stop!” she whined with a laugh, and I shook my head at her.

“You’re crazy,” I laughed.

“Maybe,” she agreed. “That was exciting to see them in action,” she said calmly, and I nodded, thinking about the guys we met last night. They were really nice, and, from the sound of it, we were pretty lucky to have met them. They apparently had a large fan base, and I bet there were plenty of fans that wished they could run into their favorite band in real life.

“They’re good,” I said, taking another sip of my frappuccino—it made a slurping sound, and I realized it was empty. “That was good,” I said, referring to the drink.

“Mhm,” Phoebe said. I set the cup into the cup holder that I knew was there, and I heard Phoebe start the car.

“Where to next?” I asked.

“I was thinking we could do a little shopping? It’s been a while since we have gone, and there are some stores here that we don’t have back home,” she suggested.

“Okay, that sounds fun,” I agreed.

For some reason, though, a wave of sadness hit me. I never felt this bad about my condition—I normally accepted it and moved on from it. But, ever since we moved here, I was always wondering.

Wondering what it would be like to shop with my best friend, complimenting her on the outfits she tried on.

Wondering what it would be like to take care of myself.

Wondering what it would be like to maybe do Phoebe’s hair and makeup, instead of the other way around.

Wondering what it would be like to look into the eyes of someone you love, and see.

Notes

Yay! Finally!

Sorry it's been so long :( I was so bummed about school because I really had been super inspired for this but then school sucked the life out of me but now i'm back! I'm slowly but surely learning how to manage my time between school, soccer, social things, and writing! I hope to update this at least one a week, but since I get inspired for certain things in no particular order, updates will be extremely random

But I will definitely not go 23 days without updating, again, hopefully!

I hope you guys like this... This is more of a filler chapter, and sorry it's so short, but I have a lot planned for the story, and i'm trying not to rush it!

let me know what you think! And any suggestions??

thanks a lot for your patience <3