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The summer before David Archuleta turns eleven, a boy he's never seen before moves into the house next door.
He'd seen the bright red For Sale sign in the yard ages ago, heard his mother and the other ladies around the neighborhood talking about the old house, wondering who would movie in. He'd actually been pretty excited when he'd seen the lady in the dark blue suit taking it down, seen the Sold sign in it's place.
He spent the entire afternoon watching the huge moving track parked next door, the men carrying in box after box after box (had to try and be secretive about it; his mother kept trying to drag him away, saying it was rude to stare). He just, he couldn't help it! He kept catching glimpses of these two boys, running in and out of the crowd of movers, laughing and yelling.
One of them in particular caught his eye. He was a little taller than the other boy, with this crazy auburn hair and these bright, bright eyes. David could see them even from his window, wondered vaguely what they must look like, up close (and promptly blushed at the thought, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow). The boy kept running after the smaller one (his brother, David guessed, they looked so much alike), tumbling them both to the ground in a tangle of knees and gangly limbs, trapping him in headlocks (that looked uh, kind of painful, actually).
David kind of wanted to... go over. Introduce himself. He knew his mother would probably take him over there herself soon (she always did when they got new neighbors, with this huge basket of muffins and fruit handmade cakes; David didn't really understand it), but he wanted to do it himself. He was about to do just that, just walk right on over and say hi to these new boys, when the one he'd been watching suddenly turned and caught sight of him.
David froze, face flushing, almost like he'd been caught doing something wrong. He almost ducked beneath the window in embarrassment before the boy actually grinned at him (this huge, bright grin, showing his teeth and the dimples on his cheeks and everything) and waved, flailing his arm in the air so hard David was surprised he didn't hit himself in the face.
He squeaked and ducked down beneath the window, eyes wide.
"David?" His mother had come into the living room, a basket full of fresh smelling laundry in her arms. She looked at his face and frowned, shifting her burden to one arm so she could press a hand to his cheek. "What's wrong, mijo? You're awfully warm..." Her voice trailed off as she glanced out the window, a bright smile curling her lips. "Well, look at that. They have two little boys. They even look close to your age." She patted his cheek gently; something in her eyes made him think she knew exactly what he had been planning to do, a few moments ago. Her next words only confirmed it.
"You want to go and meet them?"
David took a moment to answer, glancing over his shoulder at the house next door, the two boys who had resumed their game of tag, smiling bright and happy and looking almost golden under the afternoon sun.
"Yeah... " His voice was soft and quiet, eyes focused on the easy way the brothers tussled and tumbled about on the grass, ears picking up the riotous peals of their laughter.
His mother smiled. "Alright, mijo. Let's go."
-
The boy's name is David. He grins and says they can just call him Cook, if they want.
"I don't mind sharing my name but that's a little confusing, huh?" He'd said, the full force of his smile trained on David (who had, predictably, hidden behind his mother skirts as she greeted the two boys and their parents). Stanley and Beth are really nice; they smile and shake his hand and tell them they're glad to meet him, tell him he's welcome at their house anytime (and Cook kind of smiles at that, nodding along with their words like it was all his idea in the first place).
Their parents stand there talking quietly. David leans against his mother, knows this may take a while (and what was it with adults? All they wanted to do was stand there and talk for hours, when they could be running and playing and having fun).
"Hey, let's go!" David's so focused on their parents that he almost yelps when Cook grabs at his wrist, yanking him along toward the backyard, his brother (Andrew, David learned) following behind them.
David goes along quietly, almost overwhelmed by this boy and his exuberance. He's not used to people grabbing him out of nowhere, not used to kids his age actually wanting to bring him along with them.
(It's not that he doesn't have any friends or anything. There's Brooke and Ramiele and Danny in his class, of course, but usually the other kids tend to leave him alone. He's quiet and skittish and likes to sing at completely random moments and it... well, he's just someone you have to get used to, is all.)
"So, your name's David, huh?" Andrew pipes up beside him, studying him with a critical eye. David almost feels like he's being sized up or something, glancing down self-consciously at the shoes that are almost too big for him and the shirt that keeps wanting to slip off his shoulder (he hates being so darn small). "Well, that's just gonna be weird, don't you think? We'll have to give ya a nickname or something." Andrew puts a finger to his chin, looking as if he's actually thinking hard about it.
Cook smacks him on the back of the head, laughing at his brother's high-pitched, "What was that for?!"
"Leave David alone," he says, clapping David on the back (a little more gently than the smack he'd given Andrew, which David is grateful for; that looked like it hurt). "But hey, if you wanted, we could call you Archu... Archu... " His voice trips and fumbles over David's last name (which he's used to), before a bright grin spreads across his face. "I got it! Archie! That's what we can call you!"
"A-Archie?" David can't really explain the feeling in his chest, almost as if his whole body's been wrapped up in a warm, fuzzy blanket. He's never had a nickname before. "I, um. I guess that would be okay?"
Cook grins. "Great! Now, c'mon!" He grabs David's hand and pulls him into the backyard. There's a huge tire swing hanging from a tall, sturdy tree near the fence, and Cook leads David over to it, grinning and telling him to hop on, that he can go first.
The three of them stay outside until the street lamps blink on. David tries not to show his disappointment as his mother's voice calls over to him, doesn't want to leave yet. His knees are caked with grass and his shoes are scuffed and dirty from their playing; he feels exhilarated, almost, like he could keep going for hours, chasing after Cook and Andrew and falling into a helpless ball of giggles when they turn on him and tickle his sides.
"We'll see you tomorrow, right, Arch?" And Cook's grinning at him, full and bright, Andrew already heading into the house and waving over his shoulder.
David smiles back, heart still racing from their last game of tag, the two of them turning on Andrew and chasing him around the entire yard. "Tomorrow!" he agrees, waving at Cook as he rushes into his own yard, towards the sound of his mother's calling voice.
-
The spend the whole summer together.
At first it's the three of them, him and Cook and Andrew. They play tag and kickball in each others yards, ride their bikes down the street. After a while, though, Andrew starts hanging out with Neal and Andy and Kyle, three boys who live on the other side of the neighborhood from them. They met at the arcade one weekend and instantly clicked (all of them are about the same age, too, all of them older than David).
At first he's worried that Cook will want to hang out with them, too. They seem to really like Cook, after all, grinning and roughhousing with him in a way David's not comfortable enough to do yet. Cook goes along with it, races after them on his bike until they're all just a huge blur of motion and noise. And David, he's the youngest one in the group (even Cook is two years older than him, and twelve has never seemed like so huge a number before), and he's also the smallest, so he constantly feels as though he's struggling to keep up with them all, trying his best not to be left behind.
For a while he's sure that Cook will stop being his friend, would much rather hang out with the boys his own age who can keep up with him, who don't drag him into their house and make him listen to them play piano (David's just learning, and he's probably horrible and like, torturing Cook's eardrums). They probably don't beg Cook to watch their favorite Disney movies when he sleeps over or sing all the time or have weird, annoying habits like stuttering when they're nervous or-
Well. It's what he thinks, what he dreads will happen (because he likes Cook, likes hanging out with him and playing the piano for him and running after him; he thinks of Cook as his best friend).
Which is why he's surprised when Cook shows up one night on his doorstep. It's the last weekend before summer vacation ends; school starts in just two days, and Cook isn't even in the same grade as him, David knows they won't be able to hang out as much (if Cook even wants to after he spends every day in class with Neal and the others).
His mother brings Cook in, smiling in that way she does whenever the other boy comes over, gentle and happy and like she knows something that David doesn't.
"You have a guest, mijo," she says, ruffling Cook's messy hair before she leaves the room. David watches Cook watching him for a few minutes, not sure what to say. He knows that Cook's parents were talking about taking him and Andrew to stay with Neal tonight. The whole group was supposed to be there, a way to celebrate the last few days of freedom.
"I.. I thought you'd be... "
"At Neal's?" Cook grins at him, plopping down beside him on the floor. He's got a plastic bag clutched in his left hand; David hadn't noticed it before. "Nah, I'd rather spend my last night of vacation with you, Arch. C'mon, you know that. We're best friends, aren't we?"
Best friends. David feels his lips stretch into a huge grin, the weight that had slowly been settling on his chest these past few weeks instantly fading away. "Yeah," he says, quietly. "That's right."
"Annnd, as such!" Cook brings the bag around, dumping it in David's lap. The look on his face is almost smug. "I got you a little something to commemorate our first summer together."
David almost asks what 'commemorate' means (Cook's always doing that, slipping these huge words into conversations that David doesn't understand) when he catches sight of what's inside the bag.
"Oh! Cook, this is-!" He pulls out the stuffed animal, running his fingers over the thick gray fur, the long ears, the tuft of white on its stomach.
Cook's smile is a little embarrassed this time; David marvels at the hint of red he can see on the other boy's cheeks. "Well, I know you really like that movie, so..."
"Thank you, Cook!" David throws his arms around the other boy's neck before he even realizes what he's doing, the Totoro plush smushed in-between them. "Thank you thank you thank you!"
Cook hugs him back, laughing against his shoulder (his huge, honking laugh, too, the one he does when he's really happy about something and kind of reminds David of a donkey). "You're welcome, Arch. Glad you like it. Now!" He gently disentangles himself from David's arms, climbing to his feet (David can tell he's still a little embarrassed, though he's not sure why).
Cook holds out his hand expectantly. "Your mom told me you'd finally gotten that song right, the one she'd been teaching you on the piano?" He grabs at David's hand before the other boy can protest (because oh, he knows what Cook wants him to do now). He really has no choice, though, but to follow Cook into the music room, clutching Totoro to his chest. The piano is sitting in the corner, huge and black and gleaming.
"Go on!" Cook gently pushes him towards the bench. "You've gotta show me!"
He thinks he sees his mother peeking in at them, the glint of her smile, but he's too focused on the music and getting his notes right to notice. Cook is sitting on the bench next to him, holding Totoro against his chest and as quiet as David's ever seen him.
David sees the way Cook's eyes are drawn to his hands as he plays, the awe and happiness on his face. He looks like he really wants to be there, wouldn't want to be anywhere else, and maybe... Maybe David had nothing to worry about at all.
They catch each others eyes at the end of the song, and this time, Cook's smile? David thinks it lights up the whole room.