New Neighbor

Maya was watering the front yard flowers when the moving truck pulled up next door.

She watched as a tired-looking woman stepped out of the driver’s side, followed by a boy around her age. He had dark curls, a quiet expression, and earbuds in as he unloaded boxes like he’d done this a hundred times before.

Maya ducked behind the hydrangea bush for a second, then peeked again.

The boy looked up and caught her staring.

She froze. He gave a half-smile and lifted one hand in a wave.

Maya waved back, cheeks flushing, then turned and ran inside.

Five minutes later, her phone buzzed.

Brielle: “You see the new guy yet?? I’m across the street watching from Mrs. Lorna’s window. He’s cute-cute.”

Maya grinned.

Maya: “Too late. Already made a fool of myself. Classic me.”

Brielle: “Perfect. That means he’ll remember you.”

Later that evening, Maya was sketching on the porch when she heard footsteps. She looked up to see the boy standing on the sidewalk, holding a cardboard box.

“Hi,” he said. His voice was calm, but not unfriendly. “I think this belongs to you.”

He held up the box. Inside was a soccer ball, a cracked frisbee, and a pencil pouch with Maya written in glitter pen.

“Oh! That flew over the fence like, three years ago,” she said, laughing. “Guess the wind brought it back.”

He smiled. “I’m Lucas. We just moved in from Indiana.”

“I’m Maya,” she said, standing. “Want to sit?”

He hesitated, then stepped onto the porch. “Sure.”

They talked for a few minutes—about music, how weirdly quiet the neighborhood was, and how his family had moved around a lot.

“You like to draw?” he asked, nodding at her sketchpad.

“Yeah,” Maya said. “It’s kind of… how I process life.”

Lucas nodded. “That’s cool. I play guitar. Badly.”

“Sounds like we need a summer band,” Maya joked.

As he stood to leave, he looked back. “Let me know if you ever want to trade talents. You draw, I strum.”