A light drizzle danced on the wind of the still gray morning, interrupted only by a pair of high beams cutting through the incessant precipitation. The two occupants of the car meanwhile barely noticed the rain. The radio was turned up high and the wipers only sporadically swept across the windshield.

The driver strained to read a street sign, then spoke up.

“Almost there,” she said, interrupting the melancholic music that seemed to have been chosen specifically to match the weather. The girl in the shotgun seat stretched herself, then pushed the sunglasses she was unnecessarily wearing at night up to her forehead. She was about to turn the music down to ask what the driver had said, but she never got the chance. The radio spat out the cassette in the middle of the song that was still playing.

“You took the bad tape,” the girl observed.

“Sorry,” the driver replied, slightly snappy, “It’s not like I had a million other things on my mind.”

The girl shrugged.

“How was your nap?”

“I wasn’t sleeping…”

“Yes you were.”

“How can you tell?”

“I’m your mother. I just know.”

“...Do I snore?”

“No, but you stopped talking for fifteen minutes.”

The girl frowned so hard that she let the sunglasses glide back down her face, then stuck her tongue out at her mother.

“Hey, Chrissy?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna see the new place before we head to grandpa’s.”

Chrissy thought for a moment, then shrugged, “Sure. Why not?”

“Thought we could scope it out without the neighbors staring at the newcomers.”

Chrissy turned the cassette over, pushed it back in the player and looked out the passenger window to see them leave the well illuminated highway.

Much to their surprise, they found that the neighbors from across the street were already up. It appeared to be a large family, which consisted of a father, who was wearing a very obvious toupee, a mother in a nurse’s uniform, and five children. Two boys and three girls. Surprisingly, there was a second adult woman.

“Mormons?” Chrissy suggested.

“Out here?” her mother laughed, “Not likely.

The father of the pack was exchanging some words with the nurse, who Chrissy assumed to be his wife, then saw him usher three of the five children into the backseat of a station wagon, leaving the oldest boy and a girl with black hair behind. He kissed the nurse, then rushed to the driver’s seat. It occurred to Chrissy that one of the girls probably wasn’t related as she was of Asian descent.

There was a final wave from the nurse as the other woman took the passenger seat, then the station wagon sped out of the cul-de-sac, clearly not counting on other traffic at this time.

“Must be getting a plane,” Chrissy’s mother observed.

Chrissy shrugged. It was nowhere near as interesting as the house they’d be inhabiting. It was gray, with a green roof and the entire thing was incredibly square, as if it belonged in a set of building blocks. The for sale sign still swung sluggishly in the morning breeze.

Chrissy pulled her finger along the house, trying to find out where the room she’d picked from the floor plan.

“You want to go…” Chrissy’s mother started, but never got to finish her question. There was a knock on her window. She rolled it down and looked in the concerned face of the nurse that had been neatly framed by a large amount of black curls.

“You girls lost?” she asked, “There’s a motel a few…”

“We’re fine,” Chrissy’s mother shrugged the woman off, “I think we’re your new neighbors.”

“Oh. The Summers place has been sold?”

“I’d hope. Though I suppose it’d be the Brigman’s place now.”

The nurse frowned.

“That’d be us,” Chrissy’s mother continued and stuck her hand out the window, “Barbara Brigman.”

“Cheryl Brooks,” the nurse introduced herself, “Cherry for friends. That your daughter?”

“Yes, Chrissy. Though she appears to be in her own world as usual.” Chrissy was still staring out the window and mumbling to herself.

“Oh. I have one just like that,” she gestured to a girl across the street that had retreated to the porch to not get wetter, “My daughter, Tara. I think they’re about the same age.”

There was a moment of silence as Cheryl’s eyes swept through the car, “No Mister Brigman?”

“He’ll be along later this week. He’s traveling for work. ...Iceland?”

Cheryl gave an impressed nod, “Military?”

Barbara laughed, “In Iceland? No, Cheryl, he’s a geologist.”

Cheryl stayed quiet, admitting to herself that that made more sense.

“Mom,” the girl named Tara yelled from across the street, “I’m going back to bed.”

“Just a minute,” Cheryl called back, “Come say hi to the new neighbors!”

The girl, who was still in her pajamas and bathrobe, desperately clutched a teddy bear to her chest before shouting back, “It’s raining!”

“So?”

“So I’ll get wet!”

“Would that bother A’rat?”

“Is that from a book?” Barbara asked, her curiosity obviously piqued.

“Something like that…”

Tara slogged across the damaged wet asphalt and leaned in towards the car window, where she caught Chrissy’s attention.

The girl’s thick black hair was still messy from her bed and even the two braids that dangled loosely over her shoulders were barely able to contain the many strands that appeared to be looking for freedom. The girl suppressed a yawn and looked through sleepy eyes at the car’s occupants. Eyes that managed to hold Chrissy’s effortlessly. They were blue, strikingly so, standing out vividly against the black hair.

“Hi,” Chrissy said immediately, “My name’s Christina.”

Her mother immediately threw her a glance, though neither of the Brooks noticed.

“Chrissy for friends,” she hastily added after the look.

“I’m Ta…” the girl started, then yawned and clutched her teddy bear tighter to her chest, “...ra.”

There was a moment of silence where nobody seemed to know what to say.

“Cute bear,” Chrissy said in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

Tara mumbled a thank you and wobbling on her feet closed her eyes.

“Okay, go back to bed, honey,” Mrs Brooks said to the girl, “I should get to work.”

“Well… Have a nice day, Cheryl…” Barbara started to finish the conversation for them, “We should get going too, before Chrissy’s grandpa gets worried.”

Cheryl gave a few swift nods in understanding, “Have a nice days, girls, and a safe trip. I’d rather see you here than at work!”

Barbara let out a nervous giggle, not sure if that was gallows humor or sincere, “We’ll be seeing you.”

She rolled up the window and was about to back up out of the cul-de-sac when a garish orange sports car flew past them from the Brooks’ house driveway.

“I guess that’s their son...day driver…” Barbara chuckled to herself, then lazily followed after the orange car.