I pressed the doorbell and waited.

Looking around I couldn't help but notice that the house was no different from the last few houses I had passed by.

The same boring brown paint, well-manicured lawn, and generic wooden door.

It was definitely not where I expected Daniel to be living and somehow I knew he must hate living here. There was absolutely no character to it.

After waiting for five minutes and with no response, I pressed the doorbell again. Suddenly the fear that I had the wrong house wrapped around my throat.

A quick check with the number stuck beside the door showed it was the same as the one Sylvanus sent.

I pressed the doorbell. There was still no answer.

Maybe no one's at home or that ignoramus got the address wrong.

I was about turn around and leave to go vent all the stress and anger I had built up today at Kenny's house when the door opened and out came the curly-haired, smirk-bearing boy that took annoying to a whole new level but somehow looked good while doing it, in a black sweater that was rolled up to his elbows, showing off his vivid rose tattoo and blue jeans. A pair of headphones sat around his neck.

His entrancing dark brown eyes grew to twice their size.

“Mara?” His disbelief showed in every letter as his face broke into a winning smile that almost made me swoon. But it could've been the fact that I had been under the sun for most of the day, I didn't know.

“Where the hell have you been? I've been here for the past ten minutes!” I exclaimed.

“What are you doing here?”

“I asked first,” I narrowed my eyes and folded my hands, causing the many shopping bags I was carrying to hit my knees.

“I had headphones on,” he gestured to the pair. “And forgive me if I wasn't expecting you.”

“Well, you're not forgiven,” I snapped. Daniel looked taken aback and I instantly regretted my sharp tone.

“I'm sorry,” I buried my face in my hands. “I've been having the worst day and I'm so tired already and it's barely two.”

“Hey,” I felt his hand on my shoulder and the dizzying scent of fresh mint. “It's gonna be ok, I promise.”

With a lungful of mint-tainted air to settle my frustration I raised my head and immediately wrapped my arms around him.

He chuckled and reciprocated the hug.

“Not that I'm not enjoying seeing you, but how the hell are you here?”

“You should've known better than to trust Sylvanus with anything.”

“Damn,” he sighed.

I extracted myself from him.

“Also, I have something for you,” I took off my backpack and brought out the carton-coloured envelope that was inside his end-of-semester pack.

“Oh God, no more schoolwork,” he groaned.

“Yes, more schoolwork. Now can we leave this blistering sun so I can be angry with you for lying to me inside?”

He collected the envelope looking uneasy.

“Is your dad home?” I asked, looking past him into the house through the open front door.

“No, thankfully he isn't.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“It's just,” he scratched the back of his head and only ended up looking like a lovable little boy. “It's well . . .”

“Let me guess, you hate it here?”

“And how pray tell do you know this?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “I know you, you'd live in Barbie's Dreamhouse if it meant you were different from everyone else. Don't worry, I won't judge a book by the house he lives in. I swear.”

He shook his head. “I suppose leaving you out here would be cruel. Right?”

“You wouldn't dare.”

He just smirked and nodded toward the door. “Come on in.”

“What's with all the bags?” Daniel asked as he closed the door behind me.

“I'm running away,” I dumped all the bags on the green tiles of the floor and rolled my aching shoulders. “You could at least pretend to believe me,” I told Daniel's questioning look.

“I didn't say I didn't.”

I rolled my eyes. “My grandmother called and told me she needed me to pick up party decorations for a retirement party for one of her workers. I went out, bought them, and just as I left she called back and said the party was actually a birthday. So I had to go all the way back and get birthday-appropriate decorations hence all the load. Well, on the bright side at least I wouldn't have to shop for her retirement when the time comes.”

As I talked I took off my sneakers. As soon as they were both off I padded in only fishnets into the nearby living room and plopped on the plush leather couch.

I started taking out the bun I put my hair in as Daniel fumbled with the envelope.

“What is in this thing?” He asked as he settled beside me.

“I don't think you're supposed to open that. I think it's for your parent.”

He shot me a pointed look and tore the top open.

“Or you could just do what you do and break the rules.”

I looked around as Daniel proceeded to cross his legs under him and read the handful of papers that had come out of the envelope.

The house was a lot bigger inside than it looked from the outside.

It had an L-shaped couch arranged around a humongous circular rug the color of toffee that looked so soft I was almost put to sleep just looking at it. The entire room was peppered with easy chairs and some very whimsical art pieces but the highlight was the glass wall that let in sunlight as well as a good view of the backyard with the artificial waterfall.

There was obviously no expense spared in the designing and construction of this house.

“One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest? Are they kidding me?” Daniel asked as he read from a piece of paper.

“Wait what?” I collected it and perused the list of books for next term. “Wow, that's an insane choice.”

Daniel and I laughed at the pun.

“Have you watched the movie?” He took the paper from me and stuck it back in the envelope.

“When was it? Nineteen seventy-four-ish?”

“Seventy-five,” Daniel corrected as he placed the envelope on a tray on the elaborate wooden centre table.

“Wow, I'm afraid not. Titanic is as far back as I go,” I finally released my hair and sighed in relief.

“Are you kidding? Mainstream movies suck, real movies were made in the 20th century, back when people perfected the art of storytelling. I mean Hitchcock, Frank Capra, Billy Wilder . . .”

“Ok buddy, I'm gonna have to stop you right there. You are confusing the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” he gave a sheepish smile. “I tend to fangirl about oldies.”

“That's all well and good, but you haven't told me why you lied to me about not knowing your address? I believed you.”

He sighed and ruffled his hair. “That again? Honestly, I didn't tell you because I knew you would show up and I didn't want you to.”

“But you were ok with Sylvanus showing up?”

I didn't know whether or not to take it to heart.

“You don't get it. Father's going to be arriving any day now and I don't know how long he'll stay. If Sylvanus shows up I'll get an earful for slacking off, now can you imagine what he'll say if a pretty girl like you showed up out of the blue?”

I stopped as my heart quickened. “Oh. Yeah, my dad would freak out too. I guess you're forgiven and not because you called me pretty. It had better not happen again, I mean it.”

“Yes, ma'am. I promise.”

“Good.” I began toying with the rubber band in my hand. “So, what now? Should I leave?”

“What? No, you just got here, it wouldn't be fair to kick you out,” he started, then froze. “Shit! I think I left my game running,” he groaned and shot up.

I watched as he bolted barefoot up the marble staircase with the transparent glass handrail.

With a chuckle, I stood up and followed him.

The hallway was exquisite with lots of rooms on both sides of the cream runner on the floor and it would've been easy to get lost seeing as how the boy I was following had disappeared, but he wasn't hard to find. All I had to do was follow the disappointed groan to a half-opened door.

As I pushed it wider I had no doubt that this was Daniel's room.

First of all, the entire space was permeated top to bottom with his signature minty fragrance so much so that it was like I was wrapped up by him. It made the room feel just as alive as him and I couldn't imagine the scent this good on someone else.

The next thing I noticed was that everywhere you looked there was something to look at. Posters on the wall ranging from comic books to grunge bands to movies, all adding a different color to the decor, a model train station, and — honestly if I didn't like Daniel before I sure did now — a huge bookshelf spanning one wall of his big room chock full of books.

With all the stuff he had in here I was surprised that it wasn't messy.  No clothes strewn around, no food wrappers tossed around, nothing. It was immaculate, not anything like what I thought a teenage boy's room should look like.

“Oh my God, is that what I think it is?” I asked in awe as I approached a particular poster. “Is that a Captain America Civil War poster?”

“Yep, signed by Stan Lee and Chris Evans,” Daniel replied, his eyes never leaving his laptop as he sat at a wide desk hooked up with various screens that were currently blank. “Waited ten hours for that on my thirteenth birthday, ended up being so starstruck I couldn't utter more than two words.”

I laughed at that and moved on to the next poster.

I had no idea how he managed to fit so many posters without making them look packed.

I moved on to the bookshelf.

“You've got a lot of books,” I noted. “I mean I knew you were a reader because you have such complex albeit slightly concerning thoughts about a lot of books but I never imagined this,” I raised my hand in emphasis.

Daniel turned in his swivel chair. “I'm sure there's a compliment in there somewhere but I'm having trouble finding it. Anyway, it was the only thing Father ever did for me. Whenever I complained about being lonely, he would just make the bookshelf a little higher. Didn't matter that it didn't do very much. Fun fact, I have a bookshelf identical to this one in Florida. Filled it with all the same books too.”

“You don't say?”

I was going through the spine of the books on the shelf — which by the way was so tall there was a ladder to reach the higher levels — when an oblong black case wedged into the side caught my eye.

Dropping the copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray I was going through I latched on to it and with some effort managed to pull it out. It was wedged as if the intent was abandon.

“What is this?” I carried it to his neatly laid king-size bed and dropped it.

Daniel turned and groaned. “Where did you get that? Please don't open it.”

With my curiosity now fully stoked I clicked the metal clasps on the side and the top opened to reveal a beautiful violin. It was a crisp brown at the top but it faded into a black by the end of it. The bow sat beside it, visibly untouched.

“My God, this is stunning,” I whispered. “Do you play the violin?”

“Since I was five and technically it's a viola,” he tugged a curl on his head. “It was either that or the cello and I was not about to start lugging that thing about.”

I took the instrument out and ran my hands over the strings and the polished body. “You don't play anymore?”

“I never liked the instrument, it was Father that forced me to start, dropped it the first chance I got,” he paused. “Do you play any instruments?”

I laughed and sank onto his soft bed. “Grandma tried teaching me the piano once but she has neither the patience nor the ability to instill knowledge, so no, no instruments. Vocals are more my speed.”

My attention went back to the viola. I plucked a string but the sound wasn't right.

Just then something occurred to me and I held the viola out. “Hey, play something for me,” I urged with my most becoming smile.

“No,” Daniel waved his hand and shrunk back. “It's not that I don't want to it's just . . . I haven't played in years . . . I am beyond rusty.”

I giggled. “I'm not expecting a full-on concert, stupid, just a little riff.” I saw him hesitate. “If it makes you feel better I'll sing so that way we can both feel embarrassed.”

I shifted and patted a spot on the bed.

Daniel begrudgingly came over and sat in front of me. It seemed that the air around me went up like forty degrees as he sat and crossed his legs.

“Fine,” he collected the viola. “But you have been warned.”

After a few practice twangs and a lot of tuning, Daniel picked up the bow and set the instrument under his chin.

“Ready? You should know this one and if you don't, I don't know what to say to you.”

He set the bow on the strings and soon a melodious tune filled the air.

It took a while but soon I was able to recognize the song. It was These Boots Were Made for Walkin'.

It was only a verse and the chorus I sang and when it was over Daniel put his viola down, his eyes glittering pools of enigma.

“Nancy Sinatra, really?” I mirrored his smile.

“Hell yeah,” he raised his hand and I gave him a high-five.

“God, I forgot how it felt to play,” he returned the viola and bow and closed the case.

“I don't know why you stopped. You're actually really good at it, I didn't even know that song could be played on the viola,” I rubbed my palms on my knees.

“And you have a killer set of pipes. I had no idea you had such a, I wanna say beautiful but I don't think it's appropriate.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “It used to be special but I've come to realize it's so overused and all its meaning has been watered down. I think a better word would be orphic. I like it and I think it describes you perfectly.”

“And what does that mean?”

“I'm glad you asked. It's got many definitions ranging from relating to Orphism to mysterious, but the one I think fits you is beyond ordinary understanding.”

“I am not beyond ordinary understanding.”

“You are to me.”

A rumble in my stomach saved me from turning cherry red.

“I'm starving, do you have any food?” I inquired as I stood up from the bed.

“Um, I think I've got some Pringles in the cupboard if you care for it.”

I chuckled. “I said food, sweetie. I'm going downstairs to raid your fridge.”

With no permission from him, I hopped down the stairs and located the kitchen I got a glimpse of from the living room.

It was bigger than mine but somehow it felt so impersonal.

Navigating around the marble island that gleamed from the fancy chandelier above I opened the fridge and rooted through the things in the fridge.

I was unsatisfied with the packs of microwaveable foods and almost jumped for joy when I found a pack of spaghetti in the pantry.

Daniel joined me with his laptop as I prepared to make some jollof spaghetti.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he dropped his MacBook on the island and took one of the stools.

“I told you I was hungry,” I answered as I fetched a pot.

“So you're just going to cook?” He looked like I just told him I was flying to the moon on my unicorn.

“Yeah, that is . . . the appropriate response to hunger. What? I shouldn't?”

“No,” he quickly said. “That's not it.”

“I'm not going to burn your house down, don't worry. My housekeeper taught me a few recipes cos my mum sure as hell didn't have the time to,” I filled the pot with water, put the water on to boil, and came to stand in front of Daniel.

“You're lucky. The only time Father sees me is when I do something he doesn't approve of. Which is everything, including existing.”

I leaned on the cold counter and folded my arms. “I get it, sometimes I feel like my mum just pretends I don't exist. I was in her salon this morning and she didn't say more than two words to me,” I flashed the short white press-on nails I got only this morning.

“We're an interesting pair, aren't we?” Daniel took my hand and ran his thumb over my nails.

“That we are, buddy, that we are.”

It was quiet for a while before Daniel spoke up. “Do you why I got fired from the orange juice factory? I couldn't concentrate.”

I shook my head. “Puns? Seriously?”

He gave a laugh that resonated through me. “They're quite entertaining. Here's another one. What's the only kitchen utensil you can play classical music on? The Chopin board.”

I tried to stop him but he just kept on with the cringy puns.

Soon I was done cooking and we carried it up to his room where we spent the next two hours talking after eating.

“. . . and to make matters worse she tried to get me to dance at the party that night. God, I was so pissed at Kenny.” I concluded.

“Wait, you got angry with her because she tried to make you dance?” Daniel asked as we lay side by side on his bed.

The sun was shining through the window on the side he lay and every time I turned to look at him it formed a sort of halo around his curly head.

“Yes! I don't dance in public. I find it weird the whole unstructured movement of the body. That's why I prefer ballet. There's choreography and set moves to follow.”

“Why don't you like dancing?” Daniel sat up and supported his weight with his elbow.

“I just told you, idiot.”

“No, that is just unacceptable,” he stood up and padded over to his laptop where his game of Tetris sat idle.

“What are you doing?” I sat up and shook the crick out of my neck.

Soon the dulcet, soothing voice of Johnny Drille filled the air.

“Bad Dancer? Really? You could not have chosen a more syrupy romantic song.”

“I would've picked John Legend but this one's appropriately slow.”

Slow for what?

Before I could voice the question he came forward and stretched out a hand. “May I have this dance?”

“Oh hell no!” I threw my legs over the other side of the bed and stood up. The bed was between us as I faced him and folded my arms.

“I told you. I don't dance.”

“Uh-huh. You said you don't dance in public. This isn't public.”

I shook my head. “I'm sorry, I just don't.”

He narrowed his eyes and I fidgeted. It was like he was scanning my soul with his gaze. “What are you so afraid of?”

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

My answer was obviously insufficient because he came over to where I was standing. “It's not nothing. What's going on?”

“Nothing is going on, it's perfectly normal to stay off a particular activity.”

“Not without a good reason. So what's yours?”

“I don't know how to,” I blurted. “Are you happy?”

“What do you mean you don't know how to dance? Everyone does.”

“Well, not me.”

“That's great!” His enthusiasm confused me. “I'll teach you.”

He stretched out his hand again. I eyed it, uncertain.

“Just give it a shot,” he urged. “One last thing before you have to leave soon.”

“Fine,” I put my hand in his. “But I'm going to step on you and you are not going to enjoy it. Wanna rethink this?”

“Oh shut up,” he dragged me out into the space in the middle of the room.

It wasn't until five songs later and a lot of laughs that I managed to take a step without faltering and I was proud of myself for being able to concentrate with his arm around my waist.

“See, it's not that hard,” his thrilling voice was centimetres from my ear and I prayed I wouldn't spontaneously burst into flames.

“This is pointless entertainment,” I told him and flexed my fingers that were intertwined with his.

He straightened and stared right at my face. “Really?”

“Yes. First of all, who in their right minds would let someone else get into their personal space like this? Secondly, this is literally just swaying, how is it fun?”

“Well, I don't know any of the answers,” he twirled me and I had to take a minute to readjust. “But I do know that I am immensely enjoying this.” He planted a kiss on my forehead. Trailing his lips down, he kissed the bridge of my nose and eventually reached the tip.

He was about to place a kiss on my already tingling lips when the beep of the watch on my wrist sounded out.

Without thinking I extracted myself from him and silenced it.

Turning a slightly red face to him. “I'm sorry about that. It's just telling me that it's one-thirty and Grandma still needs those decorations. I should . . . um . . . get going,” I gestured to the door cursing my schedule for the first time.

Daniel sighed. “I figured you'd have to leave soon, just didn't think it was this soon.”

“Walk me out?”

He nodded. “Happily.”

When we got to the living room I noticed for the first time a lone portrait on the mantle of the unneeded fireplace. Moving closer I inspected the picture of the smiling woman.

She had brilliant cocoa skin, dark brown almond-shaped eyes, and red hair that flowed around her diamond-shaped face. It seemed like she hid a lot behind the luster of her smile and the expensive cut of her Ankara.

I felt Daniel come to stand beside me.

“Your mum?” I asked.

“Yeah. He had it put up recently, God knows why. He sure as hell doesn't miss her.”

“You look like her. I see where you get the mischief.”

“Wow.”

I moved away from him and proceeded to put on my shoes. When I was done I turned to Daniel leaning on the wall.

“So this is goodbye, uh?”

“I guess, but we'll always have school, right?”

“Right, but I think as a normal person you're supposed to not look forward to it.”

His lips stretched into a smirk. “Before you go . . .” He closed the gap between us and claimed my lips.

I was not expecting it and the onslaught of sparks that travelled through me.

Nevertheless, I closed my eyes and wrapped my hands around his neck.

It was easy to get lost in the searing kiss and forget every other thing, but I knew that I couldn't. Not at this moment.

So I ended it much earlier than I would've liked. I leaned my forehead on his.

“I've got to go. I'm sad that you're stuck in here like Rapunzel. Even sadder that you have a favorite Disney Princess.”

“What can I say? I relate to her.”

He encircled his arms around me in a goodbye hug.

“I'll see you later, Mara.”