"Um, hi," I manage to spit out, looking across the door frame into Tristan's green eyes. He's standing on the porch, one hand in his gray trouser pocket and the other hanging freely by his side. There's something shiny in between in index and middle finger, but I can't seem to pull my gaze away from his long enough to confirm what it is.

"This fell off your key ring," he says, handing me the shiny object. I grab it, turning the key to my old house around in my palm. "I thought you might need it to get inside, but I guess I was wrong."

"This is actually the key to my house back in California," I say. "But thank you for bringing it, I didn't even realize it wasn't on the ring."

"Leila, who's at the door?" Aunt Clara's voice startles me. She had snuck up behind me and I had no idea until she was right in my ear. "Oh, hi, Tristan, right?" she asks, smiling at our neighbor. She comes to stand next to me and I can already tell what she's about to do next.

"Yeah," he replies cautiously. Tristan then glances at me, a concerning look on his face. He must sense what's coming next as well.

"Why don't you come in? I just made some mushroom tacos and I need an unbiased taste tester!" Aunt Clara beams excitedly. She looks at me, expecting me to help encourage him to stay. Oh hell no, Tristan and I may have had a decent conversation just five minutes ago, but I am not inviting him in. I barely know the guy!

"Oh, I'm not really hungry"

"I don't think that's a good idea." Tristan and I blurt out at the same time, looking at Aunt Clara. Please take the hint that neither of us want to be put into this awkward situation she is creating.

"Don't be silly, stay for a few minutes! And if you like the tacos you can take some back with you to give your mom," she says, ignoring the two of us. She practically yanks Tristan through the doorway and shuts it before he can further protest.

She leads the two of us into the kitchen and starts making a plate for Tristan to try. I return to my seat at the counter, but he remains standing with his hands in his pockets. He looks so uncomfortable, not really sure what to do or where to look. I almost feel bad for him, but I'm too busy feeling bad for myself because I know Aunt Clara is only doing this because she thinks I have a crush on him. I am going to have to set her straight later.

"So, Tristan," Aunt Clara begins, setting his plate on the counter. "How are you? I feel like I always see you around, but I never have a chance to talk to you."

"I'm good, and yourself?" he says. He takes a large bite out of one of the tacos. After swallowing quickly, he adds, "This is really delicious."

"Thank you," her face lights up. She always worries about how her food will taste, even though it's always amazing. "And I've been great, especially since I have Leila around to keep me company while Luke is at work. You remember my husband, right?"

"Yes." Tristan finishes off his first taco in another bite and moves onto his second. I've been so engrossed in watching the two of them interact with each other, absolutely shocked that Tristan is even talking, that I forgot that I haven't eaten my tacos yet. I get started on them and continue to watch their exchange.

"And how is your mom? I have been meaning to invite her over for dinner sometime," Aunt Clara fixes herself a plate and joins us at the counter.

"She's well," replying as he polishes off his plate. He sure does eat fast. Well, I guess all teenage boys do, they all just inhale their food.

"That's good to hear. I think I'll give her a call this weekend to set something up. You should join us for dinner, as well!" Aunt Clara exclaims, looking at me with a smile that suggests I should be grateful for her giving me a chance to spend some time with him. I roll my eyes at her and take another bite of my food.

"Maybe." Tristan seems to really be trying to say as little as possible. He also starts shifting on his feet, looking out the back door, then the window, and finally turning to the hallway that leads to the front door. He's trying to plan an escape.

"Aunt Clara, I think we should let him go. He probably has a lot of homework to do," I finally speak up, no longer able to take another second of the uncomfortable silence.

"Oh, of course!" she says, looking a little disappointed but her smile never falters. "It was nice talking to you, and let your mom know that I'll give her a call soon!" She hands him a glass to-go container with the mushroom filling inside, an aluminum foil lump containing hot tortillas resting on top of the lid.

"I will," he replies, obviously relieved. "Thanks," he lifts the container a little in appreciation.

He looks at me, prompting me to stand and walk him to the hallway. I open the front door for him and allow him to step around me. He stops on the first step and turns around.

"Thanks for saving me back there," he says. "Clara is really nice, but..."

"It was weird," I finish for him, leaning against the doorframe and crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yeah," he gives me a small smile. I was hoping for that breath-stopping dazzling one, but I'll settle for this.

"Well, it was the least I could do after you returned my key." I step inside the house and begin to close the door.

"Why do you even have it?" he surprises me with that question, making me pause with the door halfway open.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. I never really thought about why I keep my old house and car keys with me. It's not like I would ever need them again. I'm never going back to my house in California despite the fact that there have been no new owners since I left. It would actually shock me if anyone was crazy enough to move into that house.

"If you don't have a reason to keep it, then maybe that's one to let go of it," Tristan says. Without another word, he turns back around and saunters to his house.

Stunned, I close the door the rest of the way and lean back against it. What the hell was that?