this was just something i thought and wrote throughout the day :- )

/ / / 

Your alarm blared at seven in the morning, forcing you out of your comfortable bed and into a full day of things to do. Firstly, turn the coffee pot on. Secondly, wake up your younger siblings so they can get ready before their middle school starts. And thirdly, take out the trash, because it was your chore this week.

Eager to pour the coffee and chug a mug or two of it down before school, you slipped on your house shoes and grabbed the trash bag from the can. It was heavy with spoiled spaghetti leftovers weighing it down. You tied it and dragged it out the front door, down the drive way, and to the trash that waited in the yard. You heaved the bag up into the trash can and glanced up as you heard an echo of the same sound a few feet away.

Barley Lightfoot, your next door neighbor that you didn't really know, dropped two bags of trash into the can in front of his house. He caught your eye and grinned, offering a friendly wave. You returned the gesture and turned around to grab the second trash can that was already full, pulling it next to the one you just filled. You weren't in the mood for small talk. Besides, Barley was not exactly the kind of person you thought to hang out with often, even though he was your age. He was punk --- or was it grunge? And was always in trouble. His stepdad worked with your father at the police station. Barley was known for being the rotten apple around town, always breaking laws and getting into trouble. But he didn't seem to try to talk to you as he loaded up the cans and you did too.

You didn't seem to realize the wheel on the second trashcan was cracked. A slight nudge of your hand sent it off balance, bumping you and the other trash can, sending the trash you just filled crashing towards the road. It hit the pavement. You gasped. Contents spilled. Spaghetti cause splattered all over your pajamas.

"Are you kidding me?!" you grumbled under your breath. You kicked the can and then bent over to start picking up the litter.

"I hate when that happens," Barley said. You raised your head and there he was, scooping up the trash with his hands without any problem. "What a bad way to start the day, right?"

"Uh, yeah," you said, lifting the can. He dropped a handful of trash in it and smiled at you. "Thank you for helping me."

"No problem, just being a good neighbor," he said, shrugging. "And a gentleman, because when you see a maiden in distress, you help her." His eye caught yours and he cringed only slightly. "Not that I'm calling you weak or anything. You're obviously strong, just---"

You laughed at him a little. You couldn't help it. "You're okay."

"Okay." He smiled. "Your name's ___, right?"

"Yeah," you said. "And you're Barley."

He nodded. "I guess your dad has probably told you about me enough that we can skip the introductions."

You laughed. "Yeah, probably. I probably know more about your record than your mom does."

"I don't doubt it," he said. "Although Colt makes sure my mom stays updated on the trouble I'm in. Makes it a little hard to stay ungrounded."

"Oh, yeah," you said. "You could always try to stay out of trouble."

"Too boring," he said, hands on his hips. "I like the danger and excitement of adventure."

"Is that what happened to your arm?" you asked, eyeing the black cast he wore.

He pointed at you. "Ah, you're very observant! I accidentally slipped off a roof and fell on my van, then fell off of my van. Legend had it that if you could stand at those exact coordinates, a path from the heavens would open up and let you touch the stars! Of course, our brilliant ancestors covered up the grass and rich soil with a cell phone store. So I tried to climb it."

You laughed again. "In your defense, that seems awesome."

"Right?!" He leaned against the can. "Anyway, my reputation is destroyed because no one here has fun."

"You can have fun without trespassing and getting in trouble, you know," you said.

"Hardly. I mean, no offense to you, but if you hung out with me, you totally would ditch the hanging out on the back porch to read every afternoon."

Your eyebrows pulled together. "How do you know I do that?"

"We're neighbors," he said, as if that answer was enough. "Wow, the sun sure is coming up fast. I'd better hit the hay."

"You haven't slept yet?!"

"No," he said. "Are you telling me you're up for the day?!"

You scoffed. "I mean I do have a job to get to, so yeah."

He shook his yeah. "Aw yeah, see, I don't have one of those." He patted the top of the trash can and backed away into his yard. "I'll see you around!"

"Uh, okay," you said. "Thanks for your help!" You watched Barley disappear back into his house and shook your head. He was weird.

/ /

Exhausted and drained after an eight hour shift, smelling of grease from working over the hot grills, and desperate for the cool shower that waited for you at home, you left work and got back to your house as fast as you could. The warm sun of the late afternoon brought you a peaceful feeling as you stepped onto your yard. As you shut your car door, you heard a door shut and "Oh hey, ___!"

Looking you saw it was Barley, stepping into his van and waving out of the open window. You waved and walked over to him slowly, pulling the hat of your uniform off of your head. You were vaguely aware of how messy your hair was. You ran your fingers through it, pulling it out of the band that kept it tied back in a knot at the back of your neck.

"Good morning," he said.

"Oh, you're finally awake," you said with a smile.

"Yup," he said. "I've got a few plans. An active campaign awaits me at my buddy's house." He patted the side of his van and nodded. "How was work?"

"Long. Exhausting." You messed with your hair again. "I'm sure I have hat hair right now."

"It's cute," he said. You froze and he sighed. "Well, I'm already a bit late. I'd better get going. I'll see you tomorrow, neighbor."

"O-Okay," you said, stepping back from the van. "Bye!" You waved as he pulled out of his drive-way and disappeared with a loud honk of his horn and the growing sound if his heavy metal music that he was cranking up.

As he vanished, you stood there, thinking of how your chest felt when he said your hair was cute. Thinking of how you'd never spoken to Barley before, but today you'd spoken to him twice like you were always friends. Thinking of how he was the exact opposite of what your type should be, and yet here you were, thinking that he was kinda cute.

"___ ____? What are you doin' in my yard?"

You turned, eyes wide. "Oh! Officer Colt, h-hey! I was just grabbing your newspaper for you." You turned and grabbed the plastic bag wrapped around the newspaper. "My dad asked me to because I have to grab ours on my way inside."

"Oh, I see." He took the paper for you. "Well thank you. You're a good kid."

"Thank you, sir. Have a good day." You ducked your head and hurried back into your yard. You nearly forgot to grab your newspaper, too.

/ /

Every single day, you saw Barley outside. He was peeking over the fence to say hello. He was driving by in his van with a wave. He was sitting outside, washing the side of his van as you came home from work. Always waving, smiling, making small talk. And you loved talking to him.

A week passed and it was trash day again. You took the job from your sibling. Your excuse was a mess, but you basically traded your chore of dishes for the trash, and they hated taking the trash out so much that they didn't argue. And again, Barley was out there, making his way to you with a grin stretched across his face.

"Hey, ___. Working today?"

"Yeah," you sighed. "Aren't I always?" You tossed the trash in the can and smiled. "What are you up to today?"

"Nothing at all," he said. He stretched his arms over his head, not minding when his shirt pulled up over his belly. "I live a life of luxury."

"It sounds like it," you said. You sighed. "I really could use a day off. But I'm gonna be late if I don't get going now, so... I'll see you around."

"Okay, well, yeah, I'll see you," he said. He fixed the beanie on the top of his head. You could've sworn that he looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he didn't do anything but wave as you went back up the driveway and into your house. 

That night at dinner, after your shift, you pushed food around your plate and ignored the talking of your family as you thought about Barley. Again. It annoyed you to think about him as much as you had been, but you couldn't help it. You looked forward to every time you saw him in the front yard, which was so often now. You couldn't remember ever seeing him this often before. Or was it that you were just noticing him now?

"____," your dad said, "Is everything okay?"

You lifted your face from your hand and glanced around. Every single pair of eyes were on you. "Yeah, everything's okay. I was just thinking."

"Want to share?" he asked, reaching across the table for seconds. 

"Well, not really, but I was just thinking about random stuff. Like... like the Lightfoot family. J-Just because I ran into Colt yesterday morning and he was talking about, uh --- Barley..."

"Oh, Barley," your father said, rolling his eyes. "I'll tell you something. Just yesterday I pulled that kid over for speeding, driving without headlights, and having a rear blinker out. I mean, the kid doesn't listen to anything. I specifically remember him getting the same warning three weeks ago!" 

Your mom shook her head. "That kid is a bad influence. It's a miracle that his brother hasn't done the same. I suspect any day now that kid will be failing class too."

"So you guys don't like them?"

"Ian is a good kid, Laurel's a good mom. She's trying, you know. Her kids didn't have a dad so they didn't get all the role models they needed." He shook his head sympathetically. "Colt will straighten that kid up one way or another. I know how fed up he is with him already."

This pained you to hear. You looked down at your plate and focused on scooping up a forkful of vegetables. "I-I thought he was nice. He talked to me a couple of days ago for the first time. He seems as normal as the rest of the family."

"Stay away from him," your mother warned. "He's a bad influence."

"I don't see how he's a bad---"

"He just is," your dad finished. "The sooner he goes away to college, the better. The kid has no job, no drive, and is just trouble for everyone around him."

And although you always believed your parents and respected them, you couldn't believe this about Barley. Because while he wasn't as responsible as you were, he was a nice person and you genuinely liked him. But you fell silent in this moment. You wouldn't stay away from him, because there wasn't really a reason to stay away from him. He was a good person and you liked him.

The next day, you went to work and struggled to get through your day. It was long and exhausting, and by the end of your shift, you were dozing off as you printed off receipts and handed them to customers. And finally, as you glanced at the clock for too long of a moment, you heard someone clear their throat. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. How can I help---" And you stopped mid-sentence, because it was Barley standing right in front of you, his order of food in front of him. "Barley, hey. What are you doing here?"

"Getting food," he said, smiling. "I figured you were working today so I thought I'd drop by."

"Just in time, too. I'm about to get off work." You smiled back, finally feeling happier and more awake. 

"Oh, really?" 

"Yeah," you said. "I have about fifteen minutes left."

"Well maybe after I eat we can hang out or something," he said. He handed you the cash and you blinked in surprise. "If you want to."

"Of course I do! I'll just, uh, close my shift and then I'll clock out." You probably sounded too excited, but you didn't care. Barley grinned excitedly and took his things. 

"Alright so I'll just wait 'til you're done and---"

"Yeah, sounds good," you said, leaning against the counter. "I won't be long."

"Okay."

You grinned like an idiot. "Okay."

You had never closed faster in your life. You cleaned your area, you did your final jobs, and then you clocked out and ran into the dining area, where only Barley was sitting, empty wrappers and boxes around him. He shoved all the trash in the bin and then he stood up. You took the hat off of your head and fixed your hair. 

"I really wish I wasn't wearing my uniform," you admitted, laughing shakily. 

"We can go home and you can change---"

"Oh, no," you said, waving your hand. You knew that if your parents saw you with him, you'd be in a load of trouble. "So, uh, where are we going to hang out?"

"I was thinking we could just go get milkshakes or something," he said. "And maybe just drive around."

"That sounds great," you said, grinning. 

"Awesome! Then our chariot awaits, milady!" he exclaimed. He opened the door for you and you walked on out, ignoring your car and going straight to his van. Once inside, as he shut the door and walked around the front of the van, you were aware of how messy you looked. You tried to remind yourself that you were asked to hang out as friends, that he just wanted to be your friend, and that this wasn't some romanticized moment that you were conjuring up in your imagination. He didn't care if you looked like a mess because he didn't care what you looked like. But you liked him, and there was no doubt about it now.

Barley's van was loud, with the radio blasted all of the way and the blare of the engine. He told you that he had built it out of nothing, named her Guinevere, and she was basically his prized possession. He was proud of it. He'd saved up money for years to buy the parts for her. He learned how to build her on his own. He did it all with his own two hands. And all the while you heard this, you felt guilty as you thought of how you used to agree with your parents that he was just a lazy troublemaker. 

You learned that Barley was passionate about history. And when he starts school in a semester, he would major in history. He protected the historical sites of New Mushroomton because he saw how important it was to remember history. And that was where he got in trouble mostly, from protesting the removal of the historical sites of the town that he loved so much. 

"I didn't know those things about you," you said, holding the paper cup of the vanilla milkshake in your hands. You were parked in the park, looking at the city that was just across the bridge. It was so loud compared to the silence of your small town. The sun had set, the world was quiet. And it was just you, Barley, his music, and the milkshakes he had ordered for you.

Barley drank the final swallow of strawberry from his cup. "Why, because your dad just told you I was a screw up?" He laughed bitterly when he saw your face of shock and waved his hand. "Everyone here thinks I'm a screw-up. Especially the cops of the town. Pretty sure Colt only makes it worse. He thinks he knows me personally, but he doesn't really. It's alright."

"I don't think that you're a screw-up at all, Barley," you said. "I don't."

"Thanks," he said, smiling sadly. 

"I mean it. You care about so many things. Just because no one else in town cares about the same things doesn't mean that you're a bad person. I don't get this town."

"Me either," he said. "One day I'm just gonna up and leave this place. Go somewhere far away. I've read a lot of books and there are a lot of cool places that I haven't even gotten to see yet. I really want to see all of these places." 

"Then you should do it," you said, nodding. "If that's what you really want to do."

"Aw, I can't leave my little brother. He's still a kid. You've met Ian, right?"

"I've seen him around." You nodded.  You sounded like your dad when you said, "He's a good kid."

"Yeah, he's the exact opposite of me," he laughed. When you tried to explain what you meant, he laughed louder. "It's alright. I know he is. It doesn't matter either."

"You're good too," you said. "And whoever thinks you're a screw-up doesn't know you very well. I guess that sounds a little dumb since I don't know you very well either. But I can see that you care about a lot and so I think my judgement is good." 

"I think you're right," he said. "Aw man, it's getting late. I should take you back to your car."

"Yeah," you sighed. "Maybe we can hang out again?"

"Oh, we definitely will," he said. "Maybe tomorrow I can take you to all my favorite places around town."

"You have favorite places?" you asked. 

"Oh yeah," he said, his arm draped over the steering wheel as he pulled out of the park. "I've got tons around here. Don't you have any?"

"I don't really go anywhere except for work," you admitted. 

"Aw. Well, then let's see if we can change that."

/ / /

this was long but i'll do a long part 2 as well!!