of the stairwells and hallways leading to the apartments outside. You only had to stand outside the front door and you could see almost the entire block.
It was different, quieter, at least, so far anyway.
I couldn’t remember ever living anywhere but in the chaos I’d been brought up in, but now we were here, ready to start new lives. I just wasn’t sure whether to be on my guard or let the hope that was desperate to bubble up inside me come to the surface.
It was only toward the end of my senior year that my parents had gotten clean again, and instead of me preparing to move away from home to go to the college I’d gotten a scholarship for, I was getting ready for us all to move.
I wasn’t sure whose idea it was at first, but once it was out on the table, we all knew it was the right thing to do. Moving away from the area where the temptation was always there would help not only them, but me too.
It wasn’t like I didn’t know my mom and dad loved me, in fact, I knew they did. But it was hard to believe it when I would watch them destroying themselves all for a small bag of powder. They’d tried their hardest though, and more times than not, only one of them would be completely sober, but this time, they both were.
We knew no one here, it was a true fresh start, and now all that was left to do was move in and start our new lives. I shook my head and held in a laugh. I was eighteen, an age where I was meant to be moving away from my parents, and yet, here I was, grateful that they’d moved with me.
The boy poked me in the side, pulling me out of my own thoughts, and I looked back down at him.
“I think I want to paint my door,” I told him, deciding that I needed to distract myself.
“What color?” he asked, seeming genuinely curious.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. What color do you think?”
“Blue.” He grinned up at me, showcasing a missing front tooth. “You can never go wrong with blue.”
I tilted my head and glanced back up at my door, imagining it painted dark blue. “I think you may be right.” I paused, smiling down at him, the first genuine smile I’d had since I’d gotten my acceptance letter. “What’s your name?”
He pushed his shoulders back, puffed out his chest, and announced, “Riccardo. But my little sister calls me Cardo.” He rolled his eyes, coming across way older than he had to be.
“Nice to meet you, Cardo.” I crouched down, placed the box next to me, and held my hand out to him. He didn’t hesitate to grasp my palm and shake it with all of his might. “How old are you?”
“I’ll be eight in seventy-three days.” I grinned, remembering a time when I wouldn’t say how old I was but instead would tell people when I would be turning another year older. It somehow made you feel more accomplished than simply saying your actual age.
“Nice.” I let go of his hand and stood. “Any plans to celebrate?”
He shrugged, turning back to face the apartment building, his gaze drifting to the wide-open door on the first floor. “Not yet. I’ll probably just watch cartoons and eat cereal.”
“Sounds like the perfect day to me, Cardo.”
His head whipped around so fast he stumbled to the side. “Yeah?”
“Yep,” I replied, popping the p on the end. “I wish I could watch cartoons and eat cereal.”
“You’re an adult.” His voice sounded so confused. “You can do whatever you want.”
I didn’t answer him because I didn’t want to burst his bubble. It was the same bubble I’d grown up with, one where I imagined being an adult and getting away from the life I was raised in, but I somehow found myself glued in place with no out in sight.
“True,” I answered instead, trying not to think about it. I huffed out a breath, deciding that there was no time like now to go up to my new apartment. “Well…I better head on up there,” I murmured, not sure if I was talking to myself or Cardo.
The silence stretched between us, neither of us moving from the spots we were in, and I wondered if he didn’t want to go home either. What was running through his little mind? What was waiting for him behind his apartment