“Is Anton around?” he asks.
I nod, as Maki pounces on Lucas’s jean-clad leg. With an awkward smile plastered on my face, I look into his eyes. He tilts his head to the side, still with that cheeky smirk, dimples more pronounced than ever, and I realize I’m blocking the entrance.
It just feels so surreal seeing him again after all these years. Two years is a long time in teenage-years. Suddenly, I’m fifteen again, metal-mouthed and pimply-faced.
I lead him and the dogs inside the house. He sits on the couch just like he used to. As the toy poodles shower him with licks and kisses, I wonder why I haven’t thought of him more. Even the dogs miss him.
Not wanting to be rude, and finding a reason to stare at him more, I sit across from him and reach for one of the magazines on the coffee tab
