ANDY CROW WAS supposed to be like any other child, but it seemed like the odds were against him.

"Bye, Andy!" Liam waved as he turned around, heading for the school gate.

Andy fixed the hefty school bag on his shoulders and started counting in his head.

1... 2...

Before he could even reach the number three in his countings, Andy quickly spotted the black mop of Liam's hair, bouncing over his head as he ran their distance. As he expected, the boy had forgotten something and this kind of scenario usually happened to him. Well... except for Fridays, when their teachers would extend their kindness by not giving them homework for the weekends.

Liam skidded to a stop, huffing, as he dropped his hands to his knees to catch his breath. Andy fixed his eyeglasses which were persistently sliding down the bridge of his nose. He eyed Liam's school bag, wondering if it was heavy enough to cause him to pant.

At least, he could lose some of his weight with it, he said only to himself, but instead asked, "What's wrong?"

"James and I—"

Andy didn't let him finish. He extended his hand in front of Liam, and the other beamed so broadly, showing his gums and a few of his missing teeth.

"Thanks!" He rummaged through his bag, took out his purple Monster Inc. Math notebook, and slammed it into Andy's chest. The force sent him a few steps backward. With his small frame almost as thin as a pole, the pressure could have toppled him over. But Andy was used to being at the receiving end, that he learned the art of balance when amongst the crowd like Liam, who was triple his size.

"Okay. But I can't do it tonight." Andy unzipped his bag and tossed Liam's notebook along with six more other ones from his classmates—the reason why his backpack had to be this heavy.

Andy looked up and feared the look Liam had on his face. His plump cheeks were red, and it looked like it would burst any moment. Andy could see a huge Liam tantrum coming on. Other students obviously smelled danger because they quickly put distance from the two of them. As if doing so would put a huge invisible barrier from the pair.

Liam glared at him. "Not tonight? Why!"

"I-I have something to do tonight a-and Mrs. Standley said it's due on Wednesday."

"But mom comes home at midnight! She'll be checking my homework by then!"

"Then why not do it yourself?" Andy said under his breath, almost inaudible.

And Liam, who appeared not to have been cleaning his ears regularly, asked, "What!"

"I said I'll do it!" Andy lost the control in his voice that he shouted more than he meant to. But Liam's mood turned a full three-hundred-and-sixty degree that he failed to notice.

"Okay. Drop it off at my house at 5 P. M. James and I will be playing video games, so just give it to my nanny."

"Sure."

"Goodbye, Crow," Liam said, blending into the crowd as he waved at Andy. "Dad just came back from France yesterday. He's got loads of chocolates for me. I'll give you some tomorrow, 'kay?" And then he was gone... finally, swallowed by the other students eager to play in the park on their way home.

But Andy knew better. If he accepted Liam's chocolate, he'd be indebted, forcing him to say yes to every request he'd have.

Andy sighed and walked out of Pine Hill Academy, the neighborhood school he had been studying in since preparatory.

Crescent Ville in Loveland, Colorado, was vibrant and charming. It gave off a small-town feel and a sprawling amount of coffee shops and parks filled with people almost every hour of every day. It was such a great place to raise a family, and a peaceful place like this was what had grown Andy attached so much to it.

Andy passed by Pine Hill students chatting animatedly to their parents. Some were carried home by cars or probably heading somewhere where they pass some time as a family.

He quickly averted his eyes to stare at his shoes as if they were the most exciting things next to his Space Books. His home was just a few minutes' walk from the school. Andy was big enough to find his way there and smart enough not to talk to any stranger. But he missed having his mama and papa bring him home from school when he would show them his stars and tell how he did well in class. Now, they became so busy they barely had time for him.

He could see from where he was the sprawling Rocky Mountains to his left. And soon enough, matching white and baby blue townhouses came into view. His pace quickened, so eager to go home. The townhouses' lawns were filled with children playing. He passed by a public school and a skateboard park until he reached their two-story house concealed by an old sugar maple tree. Its thick and heavy branches were directly in front of his bedroom window, obscuring his view of the stars at night.

When Andy stepped through the front door, Chip, his hysterical pug, trotted over to sniff the pockets of his tweed pants and give the back of his ankle a chomp.

"Ow, Chip. I don't have any biscuits with me."

Chip let out an angry bark before heading towards the kitchen, probably to ransack the open cupboards.

The house's interior had always been the same every day. His mama wasn't fond of re-designing. She couldn't afford to do so with her hectic schedule as a field reporter. The coat rack in the foyer still looked like it was about to topple under the weight of too many jackets. The floral couch in the living room was faded from the morning sun that fell through the blinds. A stack of tea-stained magazines covered the coffee table.

But the different thing this time was the smell of the hearty aroma coming from the kitchen. Andy inhaled and could instantly picture every foil-wrapped dish staying hot in the oven. Roasted chicken stuffed with mushrooms—his mama's specialty. Mac and cheese—his favorite. Apple cranberry sauce, light-as-air yeast rolls, and blueberry pie.

Somebody clamped their hands over Andy's shoulder. As he turned and looked behind, his papa, Andrew Crow, peered at him over his square-rimmed spectacles, displaying a warm smile. Andy's face brightened, and he quickly hugged his father by the waist.

Andrew's laughter boomed around the house as he messed up Andy's brown curly hair.

"Andrew, what's that?" Andy heard her voice from the kitchen as he detached himself from hugging his father.

"Mama!" Andy couldn't explain at that moment why he felt like crying as he zoomed towards the kitchen.

Emilia Crow's small rounded face peered around the kitchen's threshold. Her baby blue eyes glittered at the sight of him. She crouched down so she could hug him when Andy practically threw himself at her.

"Oh, my little pumpkin," she said as she encased his face between her palms and kissed his bony cheeks.

"Mama! Are you and papa staying for the whole day?" he said, bouncing on his feet. His parents' work didn't allow Andy to have too much time with him, added to the fact they were so dedicated to their career that they gave their all to it. Mrs. Crow was a field reporter while Mr. Crow worked in the same tv station as a camera director.

Emilia softly laughed at this and said, "Your dad and I got off work early! So what do you think of a movie night later, pumpkin?"

"Andy doesn't like movies, honey," Mr. Crow said as he joined them at the kitchen's entrance.

"Oh. How about documentaries, then?" Emilia said with a slight grimace.

Andy bobbed his head enthusiastically. "Or animal planet."

"Alright, that's settled," said Andrew to his son. "Why don't you go and change so that we can have our lunch, son?"

Andy wasted no time. It was rare for his parents to eat lunch at home with him. Andy felt like he flew the distance from their kitchen to his bedroom, excited that he won't be eating Mrs. Gibb's, their neighbor's, bland foods this time.

THERE WAS SOMETHING remarkable about this lunch. It was the liveliest Andy could remember since his grandmother died and his parents went crazy over their work. Mr. Crow was making a show of tonguing a shrimp at his wife, who laughed as she doted on him by buttering his roll. And Andy ate like he was training for a competition.

"So, Andy," Mr. Crow said, wiping a table napkin over the smeared cranberry sauce on his mouth.

"Yes, papa?" Andy said, then stuffed his mouth with more roasted chicken.

"What do you think of spending half of the summer at your Aunt Carol's house in South Carolina this year?"

"No!"

"Uh, no?" his papa said in a kind of lost look on his face as he stared at Andy for what felt like a minute, a slice of blueberry pie suspended halfway to his mouth.

"Andy, you don't need to shout at your father like that," his mama said in a warning tone.

Andy gobbled down his chicken, feeling like he was swallowing rocks. "I-I'm sorry."

"You're sorry to whom? When you're apologizing to someone, you must do it properly."

"I-I'm sorry, mama, papa." Andy bit his lips and played with the food on his plate. "But I-I don't want to go to Aunt Carol's place."

A profound silence permeated the atmosphere, dominating what used to be brimming with the sound of clamoring utensils and cheery laughter.

When he looked over his glasses' rim, his mom's expression was back to being calm, but the way she wrinkled her forehead let Andy know she was thinking about something. Mr. Crow, on the other hand, sank to his chair. If he could only do so to hide under the table, he would. But he couldn't risk sleeping outside the house later tonight.

Mrs. Crow was the first to recover. She leaned towards the table, eager to find the answer right from his face. "Okay, pumpkin, what's wrong? I thought you loved it there."

There's something weird in Aunt Carol's place. But he didn't have any proof of that weirdness, so he didn't dare say it. Last summer, right after the first night he heard the distant mutterings inside the forbidden room, he would sneak down every night to investigate. But he could not get himself past the first step without peeing himself. What if Aunt Carol was housing a very dangerous criminal? In the remaining days of the summer, there was no proof of the third person in her house, yet Andy could hear chilling whispers every night.

Mr. Crow cleared his throat, setting his pie back down on the plate, giving it a slight pat. "And Carol told me you two had such a good time last summer that you even told her you would like to come by again."

Andy was horror-stricken. When did he ever say that? He couldn't remember.

"There was a company raffle last week, and your papa won four tickets," Mrs. Crow said, her lips stretched into a full smile. "It's a round trip to Europe for the four of us. But we can't get your aunt to come—"

"Because she hates traveling," Mr. Crow butted in.

"I know, honey. I don't get why Carol wants to be cooped up all-year long inside her house. Did she ever go out to buy her groceries?" Mrs. Crow rolled her eyes and shook her head. "So she asked us last night if she could steal you from us just for the first half of summer."

Andy fidgeted on the spot, his earlier appetite gone like a bubble. "B-But Aunt Carol doesn't like me doing things that I want, and she makes me do things I don't like."

Mr. Crow leaned over, propping his chin to his interlaced fingers, seeming overly interested. "Like what?"

"Um, collect a bucket-full of worms from her garden patch and then..." And then she'd ask me to leave it in front of the door of the forbidden room, which I would find empty the following day.

"That's a silly reason not to go. She only wants you to take a break. And it's summer, pumpkin. Might as well try something else."

"Well, honey? Maybe we can't force Andy into doing something he doesn't like. You know, it's not a burden if he's doing what he—" Mr. Crow stopped the moment he received a death glare from his wife and cleared his throat, wearing a stern look. "Andy, Carol is just a lonely aunt who wants to spend summer with his only nephew. Summer is just once a year. Let's not make a big deal out of it, okay?"

Andy stayed silent as they finished their lunch in a stiff atmosphere. How could Andy tell them that Aunt Carol might not be a lonely aunt after all?

SOUNDS OF WHIRRING COGS of tiny machines filled Andy's overcrowded room. He had planned to make the unused garage across the driveway his own space, but that would still be up to his negotiation with Mr. Crow.

On his desk stood what looked like a robot. But instead of a robotic head, a round antique clock was atop its box-like body. It was his rendition of an alarm clock. Instead of the typical ringing noise every morning, the robot would extend its claw-like hands to wake him up by pinching his ears. In the corner on a small table stood what looked like regular television. But at the right side of its screen were numerous buttons and a single latch handle. When opened, it would reveal a microwave oven inside a television box. It came in handy when Andy was in the mood to watch with a bowl of popcorn in hand.

"Mama, do I really have to go to Aunt Carol this summer?" Andy asked as he sat on his bed, watching his mom sort out his clothes which arrived earlier from the laundry shop.

Mrs. Crow heaved a loud sigh before facing him. "Yes, and it's non-negotiable. Come here. Put on your pajamas."

Andy bounced off his bed and wore the pajamas lying fresh on the edge of his bed. He was silent, keeping his lips downturned just in case his mom would pity him.

Mrs. Crow crouched down, so their eyes were level to each other. She gathered his face in her hands, caressing his cheeks with her thumb. "Might as well give it a chance, okay? You don't know what this year's summer in somebody else's house will bring you. And you don't have anyone who'll come over the summer, do you? Friends?"

"I do have friends."

"I haven't seen one of them."

"It's because you're not always at home."

Mrs. Crow stilled. Andy could feel on his skin how his mom's hands grew cold. She let go of him and wordlessly finished sorting his newly-washed clothes.

But who was Andy kidding? It was true that he didn't have any friends. And now, he had hurt his mom with his words.

"I'm sorry," Andy said in a voice so tiny that it made it seem like Mrs. Crow failed to hear him. She tucked Andy to bed, kissed his forehead, and headed for the door. But after a few seconds of contemplation, she turned around to face him.

"Pumpkin," she said.

"Mama?"

"You are growing up, Andy. And mama knows you're smarter than an average kid. Maybe you should finally see through other people's intentions. I don't want you getting hurt because of them."

A pause hung in midair. Andy waited for his mom to continue, for he had no clue what she was going on about.

"You don't need to do what they say just to please them. Just to make yourself fit in," she continued. "I talked to your teacher last Friday."

Andy sat up straight. "You were at school? I didn't see you there."

"I'm sorry, pumpkin, but I was in a hurry. I just had this call from your teacher; that's why I came."

"Oh, y-you don't have the time to see me?"

Mrs. Crow's mouth opened and closed, not knowing the right thing to say. Then she settled by giving him an apologetic smile.

"Sleep, pumpkin." She turned off the light switch and pulled the door close, leaving it slightly open so that a bit of light from outside could come through.

Andy leaned over his bedside table to push the white button screwed on the wall. His room's ceiling glowed with a thousand stars and revolving planets. Fairy lights served as the glowing stars and constellations. Attached on a single string was a small rocket, now touring the perimeter of Mars. His father helped him install his model of the solar system.

He thought of what his mom said, and Andy couldn't deny that it was true. It all explained the notebooks weighing down his bag at every end of the class. It all came down to being the bespectacled nerdy boy everyone sees as evil. For what? Hogging all the attention? Being the star? Andy was conflicted. He'd been feeling alone his whole life. He badly wanted to fit in but didn't want to change who he was.

Aside from his parents being busy, everyone would point out how his mom had beautiful baby blue eyes, and his dad had deep velvety black eyes. And his was the color of chocolate and looked nothing like one of them. Andy had known all along he was adopted. At a young age, his parents made him understand the situation, but it was so hard that even in his own family, it was like he couldn't fit in.

He was indeed a square peg in a round hole.

He stared long and hard at his makeshift galaxy, following the path of the small papercut rocket as it circled the solar system. Maybe it was drowsiness kicking in, but Andy was sure there was a shadow following his rocket—a broomstick with someone wearing a pointed hat riding it. He rubbed his eyes, but when he looked again, it was gone.

Andy closed his eyes and let the sleep drown him into oblivion. He still had a month until vacation started. But he silently prayed that it was already his fifth grade in school when he woke up.

As if summer didn't happen.