"Millie," he said, "I'm surprised to see you at this time of night." "Sorry to disturb you. I was wondering if Luke was home?" I asked politely, trying not to shiver from the cold. The smell was so distracting. I'd eaten cornbread for dinner, but I'd love a proper home cooked meal. "Luke is boxing right now and we're about to sit down for dinner. Is it urgent?" Mr Dawson asked me. "No, it isn't," I said. "OK, well I'll let him know that you came, but it is a school night," Mr Dawson said, "You should be focusing on your homework and that sort of thing." Mr Dawson thought I was a distraction, I've always known that. But the way he talked to me now, made me feel like I was more of a nuisance. "Of course," I nodded, stepping down from their front porch, "Goodnight Mr Dawson." I retreated across the street, feeling colder than before. The padlock looked comical on my front door and I'm sure the neighbors were laughing about that. It wouldn't be the first time. Luke was lucky to have his family. I understood why they didn't encourage his relationship with me. They were trying to protect him: he's become a star athlete because of his devotion to the sport. Distractions may take that dream away from him. I stood in my empty home and wondered where my protection was. Wouldn't it be nice if every child had parents who cared? Or a parent? Or a guardian of some sort? Trying to keep a positive spirit, I walked over to the washing machine and pulled out my clothes. We were running low on laundry detergent, so that was one more item to budget for. I didn't want to waste electricity by using the dryer, so I started to hang the wet clothes across the living room. It was so cold. The trash bag over the broken window wouldn't hold for much longer and the cold air that seeped through made nights freezing. While I was hanging a bra over the living room door, I heard footsteps outside. I grabbed a mug for self-defense. The door opened and I almost flung the mug at him. "Woah," Luke said, raising his hands in the air, "It's just me." He closed the door behind him, and I saw that he was only wearing a white t-shirt and black shorts. How he wasn't freezing in this weather I will never know. He took his sneakers off and left on his white socks. "Aren't you cold?" I asked him. His knuckles were pink, and his cheeks had color from working out. I could see the outline of his muscles as his white shirt stuck slightly to his skin. He shook his head. "No, but I might use your shower," he said, "Especially if you'd like to join." Good luck trying to get hot water. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me against him. I was all wrapped up in a puffy jacket and tired – the opposite to all his energy. "Why is it so dark in here?" he asked, looking around for the first time. I was saving electricity. So I answered, kissing his lips, "To set the mood." He kissed me back until he got distracted again. This time, he noticed the wet bra on the doorway. He pointed, "that's setting the mood too?" I thought about it for a second. "No. That's just weird," I replied, yanking it off. ** "Luke, you should really go to dinner," I told him. We were lying on the couch, legs intertwined. We'd gotten so comfortable in this position. He took up most of the space and I lay half next to him and half on top of him. He had one hand raised behind his head and the other was stroking my back absentmindedly. "I'm feeling good right here," he mumbled. I felt his phone buzz in his pocket and knew his parents were chasing him. "I don't want to be a bad influence," I said, sitting up to stare at him, my arm pressed down on his chest. His gazed lowered from the ceiling to my serious face. "You're the bad influence?" he laughed, "That's not how this relationship has played out." How will this relationship play out? I didn't want to say it out loud, but we had such different prospects in life. We may be neighbors now, but our lives would soon be very different. I didn't know if I was going to pay the bills next month, while Luke was riding an incredible wave that could lead him to the NBA. "Why do you want to be in the NBA?" I asked him, draping my arm over his firm stomach. It felt like one of Austin's surfboards. He looked down at my hand and then at me, hitting me with his beautiful gaze. "I want to play with the best," he answered and paused, "Why are you looking sad Minnie?" "I just wondered if there was something more to it. Like a higher purpose. Being the best sound cool, but does it make you sleep better at night?" Luke exhaled and said, "Yeah, it does." Not the response I expected. I bit my bottom lip and tried to explain my thinking in another way. "There's a lot of injustice in the world," I said, adding a side comment, "Rest in peace Winnifred and all the other murdered cats. But there are inequalities, discrimination, bullying, harassment... not everyone is born in a palace like Chad." Luke raised his hand and slowly traced the outline of my face, landing on my bottom lip. I stopped biting it. He murmured, "I'm trying to see the connection between Winnifred, Chad, injustice and basketball." I really need to express my thoughts better. "I just think that... if you have the chance to reach the top of any game, don't you want to do something to change the system?" I asked, "Maybe as a player on an NBA team, you can make the owners accountable for their actions or their policies?" He took a moment to hear me out, before he said truthfully, "I've never thought of that." "Maybe you should," I whispered. I would be happy for Luke's success. He deserves it through all his hard work and devotion. But it would be so disappointing if all he cared about was that success. I believe in him so much. He has the confidence: the kind of guy who acts like he can change the world. So, change it.