Alarm clock blaring, I woke highly confused. Scrambling out of bed as I thought I had mistaken a school day for the weekend, I caught sight off the odd time, 7:26 am, and relaxed. I hadn't been the one to set the alarm. Returning to the comforts of my sheets, I braced myself for Grayson's entrance.

     Minutes passing with no sudden appearance, I considered going back to bed, but sleep seemed impossible with the overwhelming curiosity and sense of impending doom. Deeming the situation hopeless, I rose with a yawn and stretch.

     Attention fixed on the door, listening carefully for footsteps in the hallway, I did not expect to catch sight of a gloomy figure in my window. With a creepy smile, Grayson waited on the other side of the glass. Caught off guard, startled beyond my wits, I tripped on my covers and fell to the floor. Scrambling on the ground, I shot him a crazed looked. Unperplexed by my reaction, Grayson pointed to the windowsill, nonchalantly mouthing what I made out to be locked.

     I remained on the ground for many moments, blinking exasperatedly at the boy standing behind my second-story bedroom window. Dumb look on my face, I rubbed my eyes, as though hoping his presence was a fiction of my imagination.

     Few more minutes following my fixed gaze of confusion on Grayson's waiting, enthusiastic expression, finally I stood.

     Frame unlocked and raised; Grayson pulled himself into my room. Ladder resting against the grey home, I was a little disconcerted that I hadn't heard him set-up.

     "Hello," he greeted happily, handing me a small paper bag.

     "Hello?" I greeted back unsurely.

     Removing a poppy seed bagel from his bag, he took a seat on my beige carpet. A cinnamon raisin bagel in my bag, with a frown I copied him. Legs crossed, I sat in front of him. His mouth already full, I waited for an explanation.

     Swallowing, he looked up with another smile. "I should have a half-hour or so," he whispered. "I just have to be back before they wake."

     "Huh?"

     Ignoring my noise of acute confusion, he suddenly forced an undignified, childish state.

     "Can you believe they did this?" he demanded, still speaking quietly. "They should have known better than to try to separate us."

     I repeated my earlier sound of confusion, chewing slowly on my mouthful. Separate us? Who was they?

     Lips turning upwards as he took in my befuddled state, very briefly he broke his façade. "I don't think we deserved to be punished, but still I wouldn't have complained much if they had chosen any punishment other than not letting us see each other."

     Slowly my furrowed brows relaxed, and my lips twitched into a smile. Coming to some form of understanding, I nodded.

     "What did we do?" I asked.

     Once again dropping his act, he shrugged. "Don't remember."

     I shot him a look of disbelief. "You remember the exact time you entered my room," I noted, nodding towards my alarm clock. "You remember every word of a parody we composed when we were twelve, but you don't remember what merited what you seemed to deem the worst of all punishments?"

     Briefly considering my words, again he simply shrugged. "Could have been many things," he said. "It very likely could have been the song."

     With an amused smile my lips parted to respond, but his exaggerated look of surprise stopped me.

     "Do you hear that?" he asked, eyes wide.

     Loud stomping in the hall, someone was in fact making their approaching arrival known. Abandoning his bagel, seeds making a mess of my carpet, with a backwards summersault, Grayson hid behind my bed.

     Before my questions could be voiced, the door swung open. Stood in the doorway, hands on her thin hips, Claire's gaze fell on me with a sweet smile.

      "Have you seen Grayson?

     Short pause as I had initially intended to speak the truth, I realized they both wanted me to play along; I couldn't disappoint.

     I shook my head. "Much to my pleasure, he has yet to make an appearance, today."

     I didn't need to look to know that the mentioned boy had narrowed his blue eyes.

     "Okay, dear," Claire smirked. Turning on her feet, reaching to shut the door, I stiffened as she suddenly paused. "I didn't think you liked poppy seeds."

     "I don't," I said hesitantly. "I just forgot that I didn't?"

     "You had to eat most of it before realising that you didn't like it?" she asked, feigned look of innocence. "Did you know poppy seed bagels are Grayson's favourite?"

     "I did know," I lied, though I wasn't surprised that he would favour the bland, healthier alternative. "I'm finishing it just to spite him."

     Undignified huff from Grayson's direction, Claire's smile widened. Pretending to believe me, she left. Watching her walk away, I knew there was no way our parents had believed us, so many years ago. They had probably, laughed at our foolishness.

     Taking his earlier seat, Grayson glared.

     "To spite me?" he proclaimed, tone indicative of his belief of the absurdity behind my statement. "Back then you said it was to honor me."

     I snorted. "Well, that's believable."

     He responded to my sarcasm by very maturely sticking out his tongue.

     Telling me more of the terms of our punishment, I barely had time to finish my bagel before Grayson's watch beeped. Swiftly he shot to his feet.

     "Got to go," he announced, making a dash for the window. "My parents are waking up."

     "You could just use the door."

     The memory was complete, but he was incapable of doing anything half-way through.

     "No choice," he said, swinging his long legs out of the window. "Plus, it's more fun this way."

     Closing the window behind him, I smiled softly as I watched him descend the ladder. Let me be clear, I didn't watch him to make sure he reached the ground safely. In the odd chance that he fell, I wanted to witness it. That was the sole reason my eyes followed his every move.

     Few minutes following the return of silence, I was startled by Grayson's voice. Jumping in surprise, I hit my hip against my drawer. Swearing under my breath, I retrieved the walky-talky that I hadn't noticed him leave next to the windowsill.

     "Mission complete," he announced. "Talk to you later. Don't want them growing suspicious."

     Despite my recently bruised hip, I smiled. "Idiot."

     "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," he said, a sudden scratching noise escaping him as he feigned poor functioning of the small devices. "I— You're c— cutting out. The bullshit is interfering with the call. Good— g— goodbye."

     Laughing quietly so I could not be heard from whatever location he had chosen in the small home; I placed the walky-talky on my nightstand. Little did I know how often we would come to use it, nor how much I would come to enjoy it.