Barley Lightfoot quickly became a good friend of yours. You loved hanging out with him, talking to him, seeing him. He was easy to talk to. He was sweet and funny --- you were always laughing when you were with him. And he taught you so much about the town you had lived in all of your life. He knew so many things and it made you wonder where your parents ever got the idea that Barley was some kind of failure. 

But it was because of what they thought of him that you kept your friendship a secret. You couldn't risk losing him because of their judgement. There would be no changing your parents' minds. If they didn't like someone, then they didn't like someone and nothing would change their minds.

So when your parents went to work and you were home alone, finally getting a day off of your own, you would sneak over to Barley's house. His stepdad was gone, his mom was gone, Ian was at school. And you would sit in the garage with Barley while he worked on his van. 

"I'm rebuilding the air conditioning," he told you as he patted the side of the van. "Soon enough, Guinevere here is gonna be the best van around. Well. She already is. But soon she'll actually be able to be exactly like a normal van, 'cause when I bought her, she didn't have air conditioning. Or heating. Or windshield wipers. Or a steering wheel. Or brakes."

"Can I help?" 

"Sure," he said, smiling. "Come on, I'll show you what to do."

Barley laid on his back on the floor of the van, and you sat with your legs tucked up in the seat. He talked you through what you had to do --- how to hold the wires, how to use the tools he handed you --- and you loved every moment of even this, just because talking to him was the easiest thing in the world. Being with him was the easiest thing in the world.

"Let's try it out," he said, sitting up off of the floor of the van. You grabbed his arm and helped him sit in the passenger seat. He fixed his beanie and reached over, flipping on the air conditioning. And right away, the air blew violently against your entire body. You laughed and Barley laughed, and you hurriedly turned off the air conditioning and looked at him, eyes wide and hair a mess. "It works great!" 

"It's a little powerful," you said. 

"Well, Guinevere is powerful," he said, patting the dashboard, "so I think it works." 

You laughed again, then there was a knock against the garage door. You stiffened and jumped, reaching into the backseat to grab your bag. What would you say if Colt saw you back here? He would tell your dad for sure. He would---

"It's okay, it's just my friends," Barley said, and he looked at you in a way that broke your heart a little. He was hurt. He got out of the van and waved at the troll and the elf that stood in the entrance of the garage. You got out of the van. "Hey guys, this is ____. ____, this is Emet and Johnny."

"The chick that lives next door, right?" the troll, Emet, asked. "Cool. Barley talks about you a lot now."

"It's kind of annoying," the elf, Johnny, said. Emet laughed.

Barley rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Okay, okay. We were just working on Guinevere here. What are you two doing?"

"Are you... serious? We have a campaign today. Did you completely forget?" 

"I... might've," Barley said, glancing at you. "Can we have a rain check?" 

"No way! We've been planning this for weeks, Barley!" 

"You don't have to cancel plans for me, Barley," you said, smiling awkwardly. "I'll see you later."

"But it's your day off. I promised you that we'd---" 

"Another day," you said, nodding. 

"You could always play," he said, but you shook your head. "I'll walk you back at least." 

"Okay," you said. 

He looked at his friends. "I'll meet you in the house, alright?" 

"Sure," the Emet said. "Nice meeting you, ___."

"It was nice meeting you, too," you said. You grabbed your bag and put it over your shoulder and avoided looking at even Barley as he walked alongside you out of the garage. "Barley, about what happened---"

"If you're embarrassed of me or something," he said, shaking his head, "then I get it."

You gave him a look. "Barley, no. I'm not embarrassed of you." You glanced around and then grabbed both of his hands. You pulled him into the shade that was between his house and yours, right by the fence that divided your yards. "I couldn't be embarrassed of you. There's nothing wrong with you. If... if my parents see that I'm friends with you, they would pretty much guarantee I never see you again. You know how they are because they're like---"

"They're like Colt," he said, nodding. "I know." 

"But don't think that I'm embarrassed of you because I'm not," you said. You gave his hands a gentle squeeze. "I don't care what my parents think or what your stepdad thinks or anything like that. I just don't want something to happen where we aren't allowed to see one another."

"I get it," he said, dropping his head and kicking at a pebble on the ground. "You don't have to explain it to me."

"No, I do," you said. "Because I don't want to hurt you."

"Hey," he said, a soft smile on his face. 

"But I want to say this, okay? I love being your friend. And I wish that my parents weren't the way that they are, but---"

"There's no changing them," he said, nodding. "I know."

"I'm not embarrassed of you. I don't want you to ever be hurt because you think that. Barley, I---"

"Yo, Barley. Are you coming in or not!?" Johnny yelled, and you saw his head poke out of the front door and you stepped back a little, suddenly aware of how close you were to Barley. 

"I should go," you said. 

"Yeah, just a minute," he sighed, and you gave him a sad smile. "I want to hang out with you."

"I know," you said. "I do too. Can you pick me up tonight? I have work in the morning but I don't care. We can do whatever you want." 

His eyes lit up. "I can take you to that fountain I was telling you about!"

"Yeah! And we can get smoothies or something---"

"I'll pick you up at six," he said, nodding eagerly. 

"I'll walk over to your house," you said. "I'll have to tell my parents that I'm going to work or something." You felt almost embarrassed to add that part, but Barley just nodded in understanding and put his big hands on your shoulders and you knew that you didn't have to be. He wasn't hurt at all. 

"I can't wait," he said. "I'll meet you at Guinevere, milady. And then our adventure awaits!" 

You giggled, his hands slipping off your shoulders. And, with a quick salute, he ran out of the yard and back to the house. Your fingers brushed where he touched you and your heart fluttered. He was just a friend, you reminded yourself. You were grateful that he was your friend --- but at the same time, you wanted him to be even more. 

/ / / 

At six, you left your house with promises to your parents that the shift you had to work would end at midnight. You promised to be home before one o'clock, and they let you go, wishing you good luck for the day and not minding the hoodie that you had tucked under your arm. You took your work t-shirt off as soon as you left the house, shivering for only a moment before you slipped the hoodie on over your tank top. You glanced back at your house, at the lit windows, and nervously ducked into the Lightfoot's yard, where you ran smack into Barley's chest. He grabbed your arms and you yelped, and he shushed you. You both broke into laughter, holding onto one another and trying to be as quiet as possible as you rushed to Guinevere and climbed in. He took off as silently as his loud van would allow. 

You got smoothies at your favorite place and then he drove you around town, showing you more of the place you'd lived in your entire life. You sat in the passenger seat, legs tucked up underneath you, as he parked beside the fountain, facing it. The sun was almost completely set. As you sucked the remainder of your favorite fruity flavor out of the paper cup, you watched the fountain and imagined what it would look like with water trickling out of it. 

"It's a shame they're going to remove it," you said. 

"I know, right?" Barley sighed. "They're destroying all of this history and it's just so frustrating!" 

"Yeah," you said. "I feel so stupid for not noticing what they were doing this whole time. Here I was just going on about my day, not caring what statues they knock over and replace with apartments or what fountains they're digging out of the ground." You shook your head. 

"Aw, you don't need to feel stupid," Barley said, dropping the smoothie cup in the cup holder that was already stuffed with parking tickets. "You've taught me just as much as I've taught you. Speaking of --- I finished that book you lent to me." 

You gasped. "Did you like it!?"

"I loved it," he said. "It was so good! By far the best dystopian book I've ever read."

"Holy tooth of Zadar, I'm so glad you did. You know it's a series, right? There are two more books." 

"You're kidding," he said. 

"I'm not," you said. "There really are. Ugh, okay. Remind me tomorrow to get you the next two books, okay?"

"I will definitely nag you about it all day," he said. "While you're at work, your phone will keep going off and yeah, it'll be me. Telling you to bring me those books ASAP!"

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at him. He chuckled, mostly just watching your face as you laughed. You finally caught your breath and leaned against the head rest of the seat, letting out a gentle sigh. "Ugh, I really don't want to go to work tomorrow. Or even go home tonight. I would stay here forever if I could."

Barley smiled. "I know how you feel."

"It just sucks," you said, shaking your head. "Everything I do now is secretive. And I can't help but feel guilty... not because I'm lying to them about being with you, but because I have to. And because there used to be a point in time when I thought like how they did." You looked at him in shame and he shook his head slowly, a tight-lipped smile on his face. "Barley, I am so sorry---"

"You don't need to apologize for anything," he said, moving his hands in a brushing away fashion as he spoke. "You didn't know me then. We weren't friends."

"We should've been," you said. "I wasted so much time that I could've been spending with you."

"While I agree with you that it sucks that we've missed that much time, I am extremely happy that we are friends now and I wouldn't trade any of this for anything. Except maybe being able to hang out with you without knowing that if your parents see us, we're toast," he said, and you laughed again. And he shook his head again as he said to you, "I don't think you have to be guilty about everything. Opinions change and you didn't know me. Now you do. Do you think bad of me now?" 

"No," you said, lips twitching into a grin. 

"See? Then how am I supposed to be mad at you for that?" 

You shrugged and sighed. "I guess I'm just paranoid that one day you're just gonna be like, You know what? That chick used to think I was a loser and now I've decided that she's the loser."

He laughed loudly. "No way! I'm not that kind of guy." 

"I know you're not," you said, "but what if---"

"What if nothing," he interrupted, his arm slinging around the back of your seat. His head dipped in close as he said, "You're seriously like the best friend I've ever had."

"You mean that?" And he nodded, and the breath that slipped out of your lips was so close to his face, and you felt your heart flutter. "You're the best friend that I've ever had too." 

And then as you spoke, his eyes were on your lips, and neither of you had to say a single thing to know that you both wanted to say more. You wanted to tell him that you wanted him to be more than a friend. He wanted to tell you that he'd been thinking of you and wishing you were his girlfriend since you moved from three blocks away to the house right next to him. Neither of you needed to voice this, because then his lips were on yours and he told you all that he needed to tell you and you told him all that you needed to tell him silently and softly as you moved your mouth against his. 

And then there was a loud knocking against the window, making you and Barley pull apart with a jump. Your squinted against the shining flashlight gleaming in, and Barley said, "Oh, great..."

"Barley, Barley, Barley," the voice of his stepdad said, and Barley rolled down the window. His eyes shifted to you and you lowered your head in embarrassment. "And look who it is. I had a feeling something fishy was going on here! I guess you're not as great of a kid as we all thought you were, huh? Well, you're lucky that your dad isn't on duty to catch you with him. But I promise you he'll know real soon!" 

"Hey," Barley said, eyes furrowed in frustration. "Just because she is with me doesn't mean she's not a great kid!" 

Colt sighed tiredly. "Get out of the van, you two." 

"Are you serious? We weren't even doing anything!" Barley exclaimed. 

"You're trespassing," he said, "and don't think I didn't notice that public display of affection!" The beam from the flashlight shifted from Barley's face to yours, and you flinched against both it and the words. 

"You've got to be kidding me," Barley said, but he got out of the van nonetheless and slammed the door shut loudly. Colt yelled at him for the attitude that he had and you walked around the front of the van, keeping your arms tight at your sides as Barley kept his arms crossed across his chest, his face unforgiving as his stepdad gave him a lecture that was as embarrassing for you as it was for him. 

But nothing was as bad as when your dad showed up, already shouting at you and grounding you from texting and going out and being home alone and you were burying your face in your hands and then Barley was getting yelled at for touching you and being near you and being a bad influence, and you dropped your hands and you got angry as you saw him just take what he was being told with his ears pressed down and his face aggravated but sad and you tightened your hands into fists and said---

"Stop blaming him for everything! I decided to lie to you guys. I decided to go with him. I decided to kiss him even! Because I like him, Dad. I don't care if you think he's a bad influence or a screw-up. He's not! He knows so much and the only reason you guys don't think so is because you don't care to know him. You act like he's done so many bad things, but he just wants to see the historical parts of the city that everyone takes away. He isn't destroying any of these places and he isn't wasting his time by not having a job. Not everyone needs one right away. He built this entire van out of nothing because he wanted to. He cares about me in a way no one else has." You breathed heavily, anger coursing through you, and your father glared at you --- unforgiving. 

"You're coming home," he said, voice shaking but steady enough to remain calm, "and you're not leaving again unless it's going to work." He pointed at Barley, who looked from you to him. "And you aren't going to go near her again. Ever."

Barley didn't say anything, but you looked at him pleadingly. "Barley," you said, voice soft. You reached for his hand for a brief moment and he didn't move to touch you back at all. He just looked sad as you followed your dad back to his car. You just watched as Barley leaned against his van, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on you as his stepfather started another lecture. 

/ / /

A week passed and Barley didn't speak to you. You saw him, but he didn't speak to you. That was the worst part, when you were walking to your car as he was walking to his van and he looked at you once but then that was it. He didn't look at you again. He didn't look at you at all. He didn't try to speak to you. Eventually you just stopped looking for him too, because he wasn't interested in looking at you anymore. 

Until one day after work you sat in your car, crying against the steering wheel as you dreaded going back inside to the heavy feeling of your home. No one in your house thought you were a "good kid" anymore, and therefore you were treated exactly how they treated Barley. You didn't want to go back inside of that, to deal with the silence during dinners, the looks from your parents that send you straight to bed as soon as the chores were done. You didn't want to go back. 

You jumped as there was a knock on your closed window. Barley was on the other side, smiling apologetically as you swallowed hard and rolled it down. You sniffled and wiped your nose with the back of your hand. "I-Is everything okay?"

"You're the one that's crying in the car and you're asking me if I'm okay?" he asked. 

"I guess." You unbuckled your seat belt.

Barley sighed. "I've been a huge jerk." You looked at him and started to shake your head, but he stopped you. "You stood up for me that night and pretty much made everything worse for you. I thought maybe just leaving you alone would fix your relationship with your parents, but... but I was a big ol' dumb idiot because you're not doing well at all clearly and --- and it's my fault. If I didn't know you at all, you wouldn't be in trouble for being associated with me." 

"I want to be associated with you," you said, and you still couldn't look at him. "I want to be with you more than I want my parents to forgive me. Barley, I care about you and I just thought---"

"I care about you, too!" he exclaimed. You could finally look at him as he finished with, "So much."

You opened the car door. He moved back as you got out of the car and shut the door. You glanced at the front of your house and you hoped that your parents were watching as you stepped close to him and said, "I don't care what they think about you or me or us because all I know is that you're the sweetest guy I ever met and that you care about me and I just want to be with you."

He smiled, his hand on your arm. "I want to be with you, too."

You beamed and you reached up, grabbing his face in your hands. You kissed him again, and it felt just as right and perfect as it did when you kissed a week ago. But this time no one stopped you. No one stopped you, even though you were pretty sure you felt the unforgiving stares of your parents and Colt on you. You didn't care. You didn't care about anything except for Barley.

/ / /

Barley helped you move out of your parents' place. You were twenty now, and you'd been dating Barley for three months. He had just gotten a job at one of the museums outside of town and was saving up to start his life outside of the house that his stepdad moved into. 

"Is that it?" Barley asked, shutting your trunk as carefully as he could without squishing the boxes that were packed inside. 

"I think so," you huffed.

He looked around sadly. "It's gonna be sad not seeing you next door every time I leave the house. Or not seeing you reading on the porch. Or getting to knock on your window to get your attention so you can kiss me before bed."

You laughed and leaned against the trunk, putting one arm over his shoulder and yanking him close. "Well considering you're my boyfriend, I'm sure you're going to be around often."

"Oh, yeah," he said, kissing you quickly. "I'll hardly ever leave."

"Good." You kissed him again and patted his shoulder then sighed and walked around the side of the car. "Besides, I'm only going to be twenty minutes away. And you're following me there right now, right? You better be. You have half of my belongings aboard Guinevere."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he said, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing you on the cheek. You giggled and turned your head, feeling his lips touch yours two more times before he pulled back to smile at you. "How are things with your parents?" 

"Better," you said, nodding, "but I'll be happy when I'm further away. I'm sure it'll help our relationship with them not able to give my boyfriend dirty looks every few minutes." You reached up and pushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. "But hey, one of these days they'll see what I see."

He shrugged his wide shoulders. "Eh, who cares? All I ever cared about was what you thought of me." 

You shook your head and grinned. Every single day he proved to be better than you thought he ever could be. He was your dream guy, and you knew that he always would be. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, capturing your lips with his again.