A Tea Filled Summer

Alexander Wills taught me a lot. He taught me about love, fitting in, having a social life. He also taught me about heartbreak and sensitivity. He never failed to amaze me with his patience, and his stunning features. He's someone you would swear could only exist in a movie. No one else can endlessly talk about serious debatable matters and have no one offended when he was done talking. No one else could ever love me as much, and I promise you, Alexander, they won't.

Cover credit to BoysInBooksAreBetter

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3. 2

"Where were you at? You're ten minutes late." my dad says sternly.

My mom laughs as he cracks a smile, "I'm just kidding sweetheart. Traffic?"

"No," I smile. "Some boys were trying to beat up on this young boy and so I went to find him so that they couldn't." I recall the scene earlier.

My mom looks up concerned from the sandwich she is making, "Oh my, sweetie. Is he okay?"

I smiled, "Yeah. His older brother found him with me. I think he's my age. But I've never met him before. The young boy, Max his name is, said they just got here, and he couldn't remember where his house was."

"Oh, that must be the Willis family. They got here last week. The little boy, he's autistic, right?"

I shrug, "I think so. Anyways, must be. Because that's what Alexander said his last name is."

"Alexander is the older brother?" my mom asks, wiggling her eyebrows. I love my parents to death. They're my best friends, as you've realized, I don't have any others.

I smile and feel my face heat up, obviously blushing. "Yeah," I state. "Yeah, he is."

My mom laughs and walks to the living room, seating herself beside my father as he turns on an episode of Ellen from this morning. I watch them as they laugh at the funny things that are shown, not caring how dumb the jokes were or how lucky the pictures were. They find entertainment in the small things, and I've always appreciated that.

"You should clean your room up, Aaryn. The Smiths' are coming up for two weeks, and they'll be here any hour," my dad informs me. I smile and jump up. Before we moved to Pennsylvania, we lived in terribly cold Minnesota. My parents' best friends from home are named Jennifer and Jackson Smith. They're wonderfully nice and fairly high in society, much like my parents. Though Mrs. Smith is a good ten years older than my mother, she has an only son, who is my age, named Michael.

Michael, still, is my very best friend. We did everything together until I moved here in eighth grade, where we have sort of lost as much connection as we had way back when. We still talk at least once a week, but it is nothing compared to how we were before. So when they come here each summer, I get very excited. My mother constantly had to handle both of us as both of our fathers were nearly always being called in or trying to work.

My father, an anesthesiologist, only works at the office three days a week. However, when he isn't there, he is constantly getting calls and preparing to perfect the anesthesia for his patients. Michael's father is a doctor as well. A surgeon, who is constantly on call. Mrs. Smith, although she does not need to, chooses to work at a bakery located back in our hometown.

I quickly throw all of my clothes into a basket and put my books back onto my shelf. I'm a slightly unorganized individual. I always get my work done on time, and I do well in my classes, but I can't seem to keep everything in it's place. I feel more free when it's all out in the open. I supposed that's why my parents make me keep my bedroom door shut.

I lay down on my semi-clean floor and smile excitedly. My best friend will be here before tomorrow! I decide to go grab some of our favorite things from town, so that we can enjoy catching up with each other properly.

"Mom, dad!" I call, "I'm going to town to get some food and stuff for Michael and I!"

My dad glances at the keys in my hand, "Oh, take a walk honey. Don't waste gas on going down there."

"Dad," I protest but sigh when I realize that my summer job won't start until the week after next and dad said that he isn't paying for gas this summer. "Okay, dad."

I exit my house and turn toward the direction of town. After roughly six minutes of walking I see a beautiful boy shirtless, playing soccer in his large yard. I smile, "Alexander Willis."

"Ah, hello to the beautiful Aayrn Lake," he says with a smile dancing upon his lips. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?"

"I'm actually just walking to town," I say as I awkwardly point in the direction of town. "My, uh, friend is coming to visit."

He walks toward a chair and picks up a shirt off of it, gracefully pulling it on in less than five seconds. "I would love to make your acquaintance there. If you wouldn't mind, that is." 

I smile, of course I wouldn't mind. He's hot. I shake my head, and use my arm to motion for him to follow. He quickly jogs to catch up with me, and we walk silently for the first few minutes.

"Your best friend doesn't live around here?" he asks.

"Huh? Oh, no. He lives back in Minnesota. That's where I'm from. Where are you from?"

"Wow, that's far away! I'm from Cali. Just a bit north of here, though. Only, like, a three hour drive."

We continue like this, talking about our lives and friends from home and our families, until we reach the small dollar store.

I walk in and grab some of Michael's favorite things: Sour cream and onion chips, pop-tarts, popcorn, Doritos and a box of small Arizona Tea cans.

"I've never had these," Alexander says, referring to the mango teas I've handed him.

I smile, "They're delicious. This kind is Michael's favorite. I like the green tea, though."

Quickly, he turns back to the aisle we had just come from, returning with an Arizona Green Tea in hand. "I shall try it."

I pay for the food I bought and Alexander pays for his lone tea. He takes a sip once we step outside, "Oh my, Aaryn! This is delicious. I'm very glad I made the decision to spend 99 cents on this instead of something that would be much less tasteful."

I smile at his laughter, as if he's just said the funniest thing in the world. We continue to joke around until we reach his house, where I am sadly forced to say goodnight to him.

"When can I see you again?" he asks.

I smile, "Whenever you like, really. Michael will be here for two weeks but maybe we'll just run into each other again."

He smiles, "No one likes a girl who plays hard to get." He pauses, "Unless it's me and that girl is you. Goodnight, Aaryn Lake."

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