07.22.2015

It's been six months. Six dreadful months. I didn't want to come back here. The city haunts me. I hate it.

Six months since Mom and Dad deciding to go out for their anniversary dinner. Six months since the truck driver who had a seizure while driving. Six months since he hit their car. Six months since the beeping sounds in the hospital that still give me nightmares. Six months since the dreadful news that they did not make it. Six dreadful months.

Every second after that has been a stab in my chest. But I have to be strong for Harry. I'm all he has now. He is only fourteen. Uncle Blake and Aunt Sasha have been nice enough and Harry enjoys the company of Alex, our cousin. We have been living with them ever since the accident. The court appointed them as our legal guardians until we turn eighteen. For me that's only a few months away, but for Harry, it's still a long way to go.

For years, Long Island had been home. But after Mom and Dad, we moved to New York, to live with Uncle Blake. He and Dad were not as close as two brothers usually are, but the few times during the year that we did meet, things were always cheerful and fun. I don't know if I can say the same anymore.

Today, they have been invited by the Graysons to their Long Island house for the first time.

The Graysons live in New York and Aunt Sasha is weirdly obsessed with them. She visits them often but I have never met them. All I know is that Simon Grayson is some bigshot real estate developer and rakes in millions of dollars. Aunt Sasha lives on the Upper East Side but it seems her goal in life is to be around rich folk so she tries very hard to fit in with them. Uncle Blake makes plenty of money himself, but of course, the amount is miniscule when it comes in comparison to Grayson.

The Graysons' mansion is spectacular in every way. Grounds that seem to go on for acres and windows as high as the ceiling cover it on every side. It is magnificently huge. It is incandescently beautiful. And it is only two blocks away from home. My home. Or whatever is left of it.

Upon our entrance into the marbled foyer with a giant circular staircase smack down the center, we are greeted by two workers. One takes our coats and the other leads us through a giant hallway with navy blue walls covered with photos of the family, into an open living room. Mr. Grayson walks over to meet Uncle Blake and introduces himself to the rest of us. He is a lot more polite than I expected him to be. Next to him is a tall woman with short blonde hair and skin with a fake tan that could easily stain the stunning cream sofas. She must be Irene, his wife.

After the usual introductory small talk, Irene calls out for her son who appears from a nearby room. He has the same golden hair as his mother with dark eyes that smile as they land on us.

"Oliver, why don't you take the kids and you all find something fun to do?" Irene smiles at her son.

"Hey, I'm Oliver," he casually introduces himself, making his way over to us as the adults all huddle around, lost in conversation.

"I'm Alex," Alex is the first one among us to speak up and he is also too excited to shut up.

"These are my cousins Harry and Mel."

Oliver smiles, a twinkle in his eye, and shakes our hands. "Do you guys wanna hang out in the game room?"

Both Harry and Alex nod, the excitement evident in their eyes. But before we can leave, Mr. Grayson interrupts everyone.

"Nick! How nice of you to join us."

Following his gaze, my eyes land on a boy that looks a bit older than me. His dark curls cover most of his forehead and his eyes are glued to his phone. When he finally looks up to meet his father's stare, they reveal the brightest shade of blue.

"Actually Dad, I was just heading out," he barely gives his dad a look.

"Well at least meet everyone before you leave," Mr. Grayson replies in a stern voice. I watch as Nick's jaw clenches and then relaxes, all in a matter of a second. He slips his phone into his jeans pocket and walks over to greet Uncle Blake and Aunt Sasha. Then he makes his way over to us.

"Hey, guys. I'm Nick," he announces to no one in particular and then lifts his hand to shake mine, since I am standing closest to him.

I'm lost for a second but then quickly recover, raising my hand to meet his.

"Hi. I'm Melody." Tingles travel through my hand when it brushes against his making me so nervous, I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. Praying he won't notice, I quickly pull my hand away. Luckily, he doesn't seem fazed by any of it and dashes out of the room, ignoring both Harry and Alex. Not that they care much about him.

I find myself staring at his receding form and return to reality when a lady walks into the room to announce that the dinner is ready.

The elaborate feast thrills my nostrils with delicious aromas. The large glass dining table is set with food that is enough to feed a small village. Roasted lamb with garlic and herbs, honey glazed duck, and wild mushroom tartlets are just some of the items gracing the table. And everything is even more delicious than it looks.

Following dinner, the adults walk back to the living room to take some tea and Oliver invites us to finally check out his game room. Oliver is in high school, the same grade as mine, in fact, according the the vast amount of information he provided us at the dinner table. I can't blame him for talking so much. In reality, I must thank him for carrying the conversation for the most part of dinner, saving us from an awkward quiet.

He doesn't seem to care that Harry and Alex have a few years age gap with him and is just excited to show off his game room. Not having any interest in his PlayStation or Wii and numerous other gadgets he mentioned, I excuse myself. Nobody really notices, or cares, whether I join them or not. Instead, I decide to go outside for a walk.

The cold air hits me as soon as I step out and I immediately regret not asking for my jacket. But my body gets used to it in a few seconds and I step out into the street, after crossing the Graysons' vast lawns. Yellow streetlights light the way and my feet instinctively carry me through the empty roads.

A little while later, I find myself staring down a familiar street. As much as I try not to, I end up walking in. Only to end up in front of broken dreams a few moments later.

The place that I once called home stands in front of me. Sullen and abandoned. Everything crumbles down inside me. Waves of hurt crash into me, over and over again. Knocking the wind out of me, making me unable to stand. My legs give way and I drop to my knees, having no control over the tears streaming down my face.

Soon, the sobs fade out and only small sniffles are left behind.

"Hey there. Are you okay?" An oddly familiar voice calls out.

"Oh, um, yeah," I quickly wipe the tears off my face and get up.

"You're Melody, right?" A tall silhouette moves towards me.

"Yeah."

"I'm Nick. We met at the house just now, remember?" He says just as he gets close enough for the light to show his face, his eyes shining under the warm street lamp.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." I mumble, clearing my throat of the hoarseness from the crying.

"What are you doing here?" He asks casually.

"Nothing. I don't know. I just..." I don't know what to tell him but for some reason, I settle on the truth. "I used to live here."

"Oh."

Silence lingers in the air for a few seconds until he decides to break it again.

"It was your parents. I heard about the accident."

"Yeah." I look down, unable to meet his gaze as the tears start pooling in my eyes once again.

"I'm sorry." His voice sounds sincere.

I shrug, not knowing what to say.

"You shouldn't be out here all alone at this time," he states matter-of-factly.

"I know. I'll just go back." I get ready to walk. Away from him. Away from the house that was once my home. Away from everything.

"No. Stay as long as you like. I'll wait with you," he surprises me with this kind offer.

"I know everything sucks right now and it feels like everything about them is slipping away. So, if being in your house makes you feel closer to them, then take your time." He adds when I don't respond.

I don't know how much longer I stand there, unable to move, but he never interrupts me. When I finally turn around to face him, ready to return, he chooses to speak up once more.

"My Mom died when I was 8. So, I can understand a little bit of what you feel." He gives me a sad smile, not meeting my gaze.

"But Irene?" I ask, confused.

"Oh, Irene's not my mother. My Dad married her when I was twelve. Oliver was around ten back then. She never really paid much attention to me because she would be busy with him and, honestly, I didn't care. But she's okay, I guess," he shrugs.

"What I'm trying to say is, we're not very close."

I watch him in silence. His body-language suggests he's not very comfortable opening up like this. He stares at the ground, hands in his pockets, kicking a pebble at his feet.

"I think I'm ready to go back now," I finally gather the courage to speak up, not knowing what else to say.

"Alright. Let's go." He finally looks up.

"Oh, you're coming along?"

"I mean, I can't let you walk back all alone. You are my guest, after all." He grins, his smile making him look even more beautiful under the street lights.

"Thanks," I try to return a smile, but don't think I do a very good job.

We begin walking back with Nick leading the way. His hands stay in his pockets the whole time.

"So, what do you plan to do now?" He tries to end the awkward silence.

"About what?" I raise an eyebrow indicating my confusion.

"Nothing. Just life, in general. Any plans for college?"

"I'm going to start my junior year this fall. But I want to go to Harvard."

"Why Harvard?" He asks, intrigued.

"Because it's where my Dad wanted me to go," I smile, thinking about him.

"That's nice."

"What about you?" I ask, not wanting the conversation to end.

"I'm going to NYU in the fall."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah, I'm just glad to finally get out of here."

We step into his street, finally walking over to his house.

"Anyway, it was very nice to meet you, Melody." It seems he has no plans to come inside.

"You too, Nick." I manage to smile genuinely this time.

"I'll see you around. Good luck." He grins.

"Thanks," I mumble but he's already gone.