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said park.
    “I think he likes you,” Tony says later at the park, walking over to seat on one of the wooden benches by the basketball court, watching the guys shooting hoops. Gauthier is by far the best at it. Even Tony who is now the starting shooting guard of our school team doesn’t come close to beating him. He’s probably given up trying to beat him and is why he’s come to keep his sister company.
    “What?” I turn to Tony distracted.
    “The new kid- I think he likes you. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it though.”
    “And how ought you to feel about it, kiddo?” I ask him, an amused smile playing at my lips. He looks at me quizzically for a moment or two, before smiling, although slightly inhibited.
    “You shouldn’t call me kiddo. You were only ahead by four minutes..”
    “And that’s enough for me to call you kiddo for a whole lifetime,” I tell him smugly, and we both laugh at this. My attention is again captured by the tall lean boy as once again he sends another shot whistling effortlessly through the basket. I study the careful way by which he makes sure to steer clear of everyone as they run after the ball. Not once since I first saw him have I seen him touch or be touched by anyone. In fact, it feels as though people go out of their way to avoid touching him, despite the great attraction he is.
    There is a strange energy about him, something so appealing that has everyone wanting to be his friend, people clamouring for his attention, fighting each other to get closer to him. Yet the same energy ensures to keep them at bay, ensuring that no one ever touches him or accidentally bumps into him. Everyone is awry about touching him. Everyone but me. For days now my mind has been dizzy with the need to touch him whenever he gets close to me.
    “He’s weird,” I tell Tony after pondering for a while, a chill running up and down my body.
    “I could talk to him,” Tony says. “I won’t let him anywhere near you if you don’t..”
    “Hey, hey, Mr protective Brother! Chill out. I can fight my own battles,” I say laughing, playfully trying to wrestle him off the bench.
    “Stop it..” Tony starts before helplessly falling into involuntary laughs while attempting to slap my hands away, for I am now tickling him at his weak spot.
    “It’s not fair for two siblings to keep each other company,” his voice sounds, and I fight my every instinct against looking up, for I do not want to be startled by his eyes again.
    “No it isn’t,” Mandy agrees, walking over to us and pulling at my brother’s hand to force him to rise off the wooden bench we are sitting on. “Come on, Tony. Time to talk to me,” she says flirtatiously. I make a face at him as he is forced to rise, and he mimicks it, causing me to laugh out.
    “You have a great laugh,” Gauthier says, settling on the space beside me that Tony has just vacated. “You should laugh more often.”
    “I should,” I agree, looking anywhere but at him.
    “So you two are new here too?”
    “Yep,” I say. There is a prolonged silence as though he is expecting me to expound. I remain silent for I’m not sure what else I ought to say. Plus, my tongue just got tied up again, and I am once again fighting against the urge to run my fingers through his hair, or to trace the sides of his face, or to..
    “How long have you lived here?” He asks, and I am glad that he spoke up in time to break my disturbing train of thought, for I had subconsciously started raising my hands to touch him.
    “Just over a month,” I say after clearing my throat, looking anywhere but at him.
    “Do you like it?”
    “What’s not to like?” I rush to say.
    “You hate it?” He concludes.
    I shrug. “I didn’t say that,” I point out.
    “You didn’t say you like it either,” he reasons, slight amusement in his voice.
    “Neither did I say I hate it.”
    “True.” He admits.
    He then folds his gloved hands on his knees, and I stare at the movement