Today (y/n) is going to come over for dinner. I hope my mom likes her, as she is one of my only friends in this little town. I started writing some poetry about this one girl named Sara from my math class. She had the most beautiful chocolate colored skin and the biggest brown eyes. Plus, she was funny and smart.

I'm so pathetic I though to myself with a self-degrading chuckle. I haven't even been at this school for a week and I already like a girl. I sighed and banged my head on the table.

"Whatcha doing, old brother o'mine?" My half brother Greg asked from behind me.

"Oh, nothing Greg. Just leave me alone." I whispered. Just then, I felt someone pinch the back of my neck. I let out a squeal and turned around in surprise.

"(Y/n)! You gave me a heart attack!" I half yelled. She widened her eyes.

"Hey, don't look at me! It was Greg's idea." (Y/n) said, picking the small boy up and putting him on her shoulders. Typical Greg, making friends with someone he literally just met. I noticed how nice and gentle (y/n) was being with the kid, and thought that it was kind of cute. I smiled and sat on my bed. I patted the space next to me, inviting (y/n) to take a seat. She walked over and plopped down next to me, pulling Greg onto her lap.

"You have such an interesting room," (y/n) commented. I gulped.

"That's a good thing, right?" I asked her.

"Uh, yeah!" (Y/n) said as if it was a stupidly obvious answer. "You have a whole cassette player in here. And you listen to the black turtles!" (Y/n) marveled, motioning to a poster that I had next to my desk.

"Yeah, the Black turtles are my favorite band." I told her. Just then, we heard a very low, and very loud growl.

"Oops, sorry. That was my stomach!" Greg said with his usual goofy smile. "I'm hungry!" He announced. (Y/n) laughed and put him on her shoulders as we descended downstairs into my kitchen.

"So, what are you going to be for Halloween, (y/n)? Wirt still hasn't decided on his costume." My mom asked, giving me a teasing look.

"Oh, im actually just going to go as a steampunk person." (Y/n) said, taking a bite of her pizza.

"That actually sounds really cool," I encouraged her. I meant it too.

"I'm gonna be an elephant, right dad?" Greg said. My step-dad gave a confirming nod while scarfing down his second slice of sausage pizza.

After dinner, (y/n) and I went to chill in my room for a little bit, while Greg, my mom, and his dad played uno.

"Wanna listen to some music?" I asked (y/n).

"Sure." She replied.

I went over to my cassette collection and chose one that I thought she would enjoy. It was an *NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, Whitney Houston mix. I sort of liked it too, to be honest. After putting the tape in the player, I Want it That Way started playing.

"YOU ARE MY FIRE!" (Y/n) screamed out. I laughed and joined in.

"TELL ME WHY, AINT NOTHING BUT A HEARTACHE!" We both sang at the top of our lungs. When the song was over, we both laughed up a storm and I went to get the next song playing. This time, it was This I Promise You by *NSYNC. (Y/n) playfully got up and sauntered over to me. I laughed along and bowed my hand to her. She curtseyed and took it. We playfully ballroom danced around my room, while screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs. When we the tape ran out, and we had danced our limbs off, (y/n) laid on my bed while I worked on some poetry. I found myself writing this;

O my love's like a red, red rose

That's newly sprung in June

O my love's like the melody

That's sweetly play'd in tune.

(A/n- this isn't my poem, it is a stanza of A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns)

I didn't exactly know what that poem meant, but it felt so natural coming out of my pen, that I decided to write it in my periwinkle notebook of poems that are actually good. I saw one of my poems about Sara, and for some reason, felt nothing when I reread it. I assumed that because I was tired.

"Oh, my mom just texted me. I have to go," (y/n) said from behind me.

"Oh ok, See you on Monday/Halloween!" I Said to her. She gave me a smile and wave, and walked out of my room.

"Your friend is nice, Wirt." My mom said, as her and Greg walked into my room.

"You mean our friend?" Greg asked my mom. Mom laughed and sat down next to me.

"Your School has a football game on Halloween, do you want me to buy you a ticket?" She asked me. I politely refused and went back to writing my poem.