“Time for dinner!” Paula shouted.

            I’m still not all to clear on why our family insists on lying to each other; maybe to keep the only composure we’ve got left.  Inside this new picture perfect house lies this entirely picture perfect family that goes to church every Sunday, eats dinner together every night, has a family night once a week and talks about their problems openly.  Might as well try to convince people that Clay really did come from my parents… except people actually believe that we’re the perfect family, when we’re not even close.  Paula insists upon all of this crap just so that no one may discover what actually goes on inside these painted walls.  It makes me sick.

            “Tomorrow is your first day at school, guys!” Dad sounds way to enthusiastic.

            “Oh goody!  I can’t wait!” Glen responds sarcastically.

            The rest of dinner conversation continued in the same manner, unless of course it was filled with that same tense silence we all know so well.  Lately, anytime spent together turns out disastrous or completely boring.  This time it was the latter of the two.  That is, until the doorbell rang.

            “I’LL GET IT!” Glen shouted despite the fact that we were all sitting three feet apart.

            “You wish…” I muttered back, which ensued in a full out race to the front door.  Needless to say… I won, and did a nice little party dance to rejoice in the victory while Glen and whoever happened to be standing outside the open front door watched.

            “So, you’re a cute one,” stopping my dance almost immediately.

            “Huh?” I managed to get out before I turned to find one of the hottest guys I’d ever seen standing on my doorstep.

            “I said… you’re a cute one,” causing me to blush ridiculously, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

            “Oh, vomit.” Glen muttered as he headed back towards the dining room.

            “Ignore him,” I managed to get out along with a sheepish laugh, “Looks like they make ‘em pretty cute here in L.A. too.”

            “Well… I’ll have to agree with you on that one.  I’m Jack, by the way.  Live just down the street and the rents sent me over to say hi.”

            “Mmm… does Jack have a last name?” uh oh… I’m already on high flirt mode.  Hahh… I just can’t help myself, it’s these cute Los Angeles boys.

            “In fact he does… Frost,” he said, half smiling.

            “Ha… you’re kidding, right?”

            “Actually, I’m not… it does make for great jokes, though.”

            “Well then, Mister Jack Frost… it’s nice to meet you.  My name is Spencer Carlin.”

            “Welcome to the City of Angels, Spencer Carlin.  I’ll see you at school,” and then he was gone.