AMY 

"Amelia," my mother calls from downstairs. 

I throw my blanket over my head and bury my face into the first pillow within my reach. 

"Five minutes," I groan, my voice muffled by the cushion. 

Turning to the side, I look over to my bedside table at my clock. 7:24 AM. Who wants to wake up this early on a Saturday? Then again, I am already awake, so there's no turning back now. 

"Amelia, get down this second!"

Too tired to argue anymore, I jump out of my bed, slam the door shut, and trudge down the stairs. As I reach the bottom, I find my mother standing at the foot of the staircase. 

As soon as she sees me, her eyebrows knit themselves together. With her arms crossed over her chest,she stares at me with her striking eyes, squinting. 

"What took you so long?! You have to get ready," she roars. "Eat and get ready in fifteen minutes. Now." She points a threatening finger at the dinner table before leaving me to awkwardly stand alone in silence. 

Only after twelve years did I realize that I should never reply to my mother when she's pissed, which she always is. Yes, I was pretty young when I realized this and I learned that 1.she will scold you for disobeying and/or complaining to her, and 2. she will pay no attention to what you have to say, simply because anything not beneficial to her is tuned out and ignored. 

(Iam useless, tuned out and ignored.)

I march back up to my room and walk over to my closet. My wardrobe consists only of sweaters,jeans, socks, and underwear. I am not very fashionable, but my style suffices.

Before changing out of my pajamas, I look outside my over sized window. I have a perfect view of the Olsens' house from here, and it is actually quite picturesque. Carefully stepping onto my bed, I reach out and close the curtains behind my headboard.

TYLER

My family and I moved into the house across the Nelsons just yesterday. From what I understand, Amy, the only child of Mrs. Nelson, is coming over for breakfast this morning. The first time I heard about Amy, I thought to myself, she is definitely someone that I want to meet.

According to my younger brother, Danny, who happens to be in the same homeroom class as Amy, she is very pretty and intelligent. Danny also said that she's quite shy, and I'm most certain that will change after she meets me. Although I know close to nothing about her yet, there is something different about Amy that attracts me to her. I have no idea what it is, but I'm just so desperate to find out.

Speaking of Amy, I've been watching her until now, when suddenly she closes her curtains.

AMY

I eat a bowl of dry cereal at the dining table after I put on decent clothes in my room. My head is bent low as I try to finish this as fast as I can, actually chewing more than I can swallow.

Mom is watching me, and I bet that if I choked on my breakfast, she would just leave me to die.

After cleaning the dishes, I put on my red Chuck Taylors and tie the shoelaces. As I am doing so, I hear footsteps approaching me. Avoid eye contact. Avoid eye contact. She stops in front of me, her slumped shadow hovering over mine.

"Stand up straight, even if it hurts. They are going to blame me for not correcting your bad posture," she says with a commanding tone. "Keep your hair away from your eyes. They will dislike you for being messy."

I understand that she wants me to give them a good first impression and for me to lookproper, but the fact that she is such a hypocrite is just unacceptable for me. I tilt my head up slightly to catch a glimpse of her, but just enough that she doesn't see me looking at her.

Stand up straight. Her back is hunched slightly.Keep your hair away from your eyes. Long hazel strands are covering half of her always grimaced face.

Before I can leave her, she grabs my left shoulder.

"Tell them how good a mother I am to you. They will like you more for being a loving daughter," she says in an unusually soft tone.

Is that her way of telling me to shut up? She must have read my mind, because that is exactly what I plan on doing. I'm not in the mood to talk to strangers right now.

Not meaning it, I nod and she lets go. I roll my eyes as I walk out the door before turning around to see the house gradually disappear behind me. My legs are shaking and my hands are sweating. I haven't had an actual conversation with anyone outside of school other than my mom.

Let's get the facts straight: I am horrible at socializing. I only talk in school to recite, but only so that I don't doze off like I did before...

TYLER

"Tyler, she's coming! She's almost at the door!"

Danny is probably as excited as I am to meet Amy. The only difference is that he is showing it. He is already holding the doorknob, about to open it as he looks outside through the closest curtained window. He acts that way not because he is immature, but because he's never had a female friend before. Other than his kindergarten playmates, that is. Before moving here,we studied in an all-males private school.

Three knocks.

Two seconds.

One girl at the door.

AMY

My heart is pounding. What if I black out? What if I vomit on their carpet? What if I say something wrong? What if I freeze up? Within two seconds, a million or so questions come rushing into my head, and it is out of my capability to gather them all.

They are staring at me with wide eyes, the two boys at the door. The first one is shorter and younger than the other. His hair is dirty blond, and he seems awfully familiar. The clearly older one's hair is a nice golden and his eyes are more blue than green, unlike his brother's.

They are both very good-looking, but the latter one I mentioned is just so much more striking to me.

"Hey there. I'm Tyler," says the older one, showing off his pearly whites. "And this is my little brother, Danny." He motions to his brother, still smiling but with his lips sealed this time.

"Hey, I'm not little!" Danny said scowling. "Amy and I are in the same homeroom class."

Oh, so that's where I know him from.

Tyler gestures for me to enter their house, so I do.

TYLER

Amy is, as expected, very silent for the first few moments. After I close the door, she turns to both of us, biting her lower lip.

"I'm Amy. Please refrain from referring to me as Amelia." She pauses for a while. "Only my mother calls me that." I find it odd that she says this because neither of us have addressed her as Amelia. I didn't even know that Amy was not her real name.

She wraps a few strands of her wavy auburn hair around her finger as she speaks, her voice nearly a whisper. Her bangs are always covering her eyes, and that makes me feel even more suspicious of her. No eye contact and barely any interactive movement. I wasn't expecting her to be this introverted. From my experience, shy people look and act pretty normal. It's just that they just don't talk much nor look at you. Amy, on the other hand, is looking our way, but not directly at us. Clearly, something strange is going on with her. Danny glances at me over his shoulder. Do something, his expression reads. I have to lighten things up a bit.

"So," I start, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "just Amy? No surname, just like Madonna?" I already know the answer to my question, but I can't just keep her standing there insilence forever. What's that I hear?

A giggle?

A grin?

Bingo!

AMY

I hate my laugh. But on the brighter side, I did something normal without screwing up. (Introvert-life achievement completed.)

I shake my head as a shot of coldness runs down my spine. I am nervous. I am excited.

"No, I just–" My smile grows. I had no idea it could do that.

"So what's your full name?" Tyler asks, looking at me. "If you find that just you introducing yourself is unfair, I'm Tyler Olsen."

Under normal circumstances, I would keep silent, but I do not want these boys to think of me as rude. For the sake of first impressions, I change my mind. But just as I am about to reply, their father comes into the dining area through their kitchen door. He is carrying a tray of breakfast food as he welcomes, "Good morning, Amy! We're so glad you could make it."

Unlike his two sons, he is a brunette. His smile is wide and his beautiful teeth are evident. It makes me think that their good looks are genetic.

Before I could greet their father back, Tyler chimes in, "His name's David Frank Olsen, but most people know him as Dave Franco." He winks at me, and I can't help but laugh again. I cup my mouth with my hands, feeling the warmth of my cheeks as I blush. "Am I right, Dad?" he adds.

"He's just joking, Amy," their dad responds. "Call me Frank. In fact, call me anything you want. Except for Mr. Olsen, 'cause that makes me feel really old."

I am just about to sit at the table where Frank set down the tray of food when Tyler grabs me by my wrist, pulling me into a long hallway.

TYLER

"Come on." I tilt my head back slightly to catch a glimpse of Amy. She looks rather frightened. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you." My reassuring seems to relieve her somewhat, because she responds with a weak smile. We climb up a flight of stairs and stand in front of the white door that leads to my bedroom. We stare at each other for a few seconds. "I just wanted to ask you something in private," I say as I open the door. She enters, then I look back into the corridor and make sure that nobody bothered to follow us. After which, I quickly follow Amy into my room.

But when I close the door to turn and look at her, I swallow, realizing how uncomfortable I've just made her.

AMY

What could Tyler possibly want to ask me that he couldn't in front of his father and brother? A part of me fears that he would ask something about my Sight. But then again, how could anybody here possibly know about that? I'm just feeling nervous, because I've never talked to so many males at once–or anyone at all, excluding my mother, for that matter. Yes, that's it. I am just nervous. Tyler closes the door slowly so as to not make a sound and then leans against it.

"There's something very different about you, you know? Not just unique, but more... peculiar, I guess."

His eyes narrow and the way he glares at me makes my hands shake. I feel like escaping and jumping out of the window, but we are on the second level of his two storey house. Of all times my acrophobia acts up, and we're not even that high.

"Wait, I'm not trying to you make you feel uncomfortable. I'm sorry, I just–" Tyler runs a hand through his golden hair, looking away from me.

"It's okay," I whisper, attempting to lift my head up. I knew I shouldn't have come here. Why did I even say that? It is absolutely not okay. I already know what he is going to ask me, so why did I just encourage him to ask? Nobody else needs to know about it. I don't even want to answer his question. So why? 

Why?

Tyler probably doesn't even know how to ask, and the thought of doing so must be making him nervous too. Or maybe he is thinking that my secret would frighten him, and he is having second thoughts about even asking me his question. He looks so desperate to know, and it's starting to become so hard for me to resist answering him. But then again, what if he actually understands me? What if he wants to help me? After not telling anyone for the past six years, I feel an urge to tell someone. 

No, it's no longer an urge, but a need. It's almost as if I'm desperate too.

For almost longer than a second, our eyes meet. "Tyler, what is it?" I brace myself for the question he keeps on holding back. (I am nervous to answer.) I am excited to know.

Tyler breathes a sigh before looking at me with a soft expression. "Danny mentioned that you're all of the teachers' most active student, but outside of the classroom, you're always quiet and shy. I have this feeling that you aren't really like that and you're just making yourself come across that way. It's almost as if you have this secret you're hiding, and I really want to know what it is. Actually, I feel like I need to know what it is. I understand completely if you don't want to tell me, but you can trust me. I promise. I won't tell anyone." He crosses his heart with a light nod. And then utters the dreaded question, 

"What are you hiding?"

(I'm screwed.)