That morning, the sand crunched under flip flops as Steven ran up the hill, arms out like airplane wings.
"Ethan! Ethan!" he shouted, skidding a little as he reached me. "You will not believe what just happened!"
I opened my eyes and looked up from my nap, half-expecting another one of his wild snack stories. "What now?"
"There was this cave, right? And a bunch of these creepy drill worm things came out of the wall like pop pop pop! and Garnet just, BAM!" He punched the air so hard he spun himself halfway around. "She sent one flying, and Pearl was all 'Be careful, Steven!' and Amethyst threw her whip like whoosh and then it totally got stuck in the ceiling and she was laughing and—"
He paused to suck in a breath.
"That sounds... intense," I offered, slightly amused.
"It was awesome! I wanted to go back and check if the cave had treasure or something, but Garnet said, 'No unnecessary risks,'" he said, mimicking her voice with a little too much seriousness. "So I was like, okay, fine. But then I thought, arcade day!"
Steven threw his hands up like he'd just solved world peace.
"Wanna come? We can play Meat Beat Mania and eat fry bits until we can't feel feelings!"
I laughed. "Sounds like a plan. But I've got something else going on today."
Steven drooped a little, but quickly perked up again. "Okay, your mystery quest better be cool too. Tell me all about it later?"
"Deal."
He gave a quick double thumbs up and took off again, humming what I was pretty sure was the jingle from Crying Breakfast Friends.
Shooting up I tucked m hands into m pockets, fingertips brushing the folded paper Connie gave me last time, a handwritten list of book titles she thought I'd enjoy.
The walk to Connie's house was calm, sidewalk cracks, breeze tugging at my loose shirt, the kind of late afternoon that felt like it didn't want to commit to anything serious. 'Oh look a dollar must be my lucky day'
When I got there, I barely made it up the front steps before the door swung open.
"Ethan!" Connie said, waving me inside frantically.
I blinked. "uh hey, you okay?" I said with a casual wave back
She nodded a little too quickly and motioned again. "Just come in."
The Maheswaran house was exactly what I'd imagined: clean, bright, minimalist. Sleek wooden floors. A soft gray couch that looked barely used. A modern glass coffee table stacked with books in careful towers, color-coded, of course.
"You always this intense when people visit?" I asked, stepping out of my shoes.
She grimaced, then bit her lip. "Well," she paused, "Okay, so... my parents don't exactly know you're here."
I raised an eyebrow.
"They're not home right now," she added. "They usually work late. I'm sorry, I should've told you. I just—" Her hands fluttered in the air, then dropped. "I didn't think they'd say yes. But I wanted you here."
I looked around the pristine living room, taking in the titles on the table, philosophy, political theory, hard science fiction. Heavy stuff. "Well, you've got good taste in books," I said, kneeling down to inspect a thick volume of Neuromancer near the edge.
She relaxed, just a little. "Thanks. That one's my dad's. He pretends he hates fiction but sneaks cyberpunk whenever he thinks we don't notice."
I smiled and eased down on the rug, letting the day unfold with the comfortable silence that only books and paper can bring. Eventually tiptoeing her way next to me I cracked open the book and began our read.
Shadows moving across the hardwood and hours ticked by with them. We go so caught up in the book we began sketched illustrations, each chapter we'd built entire scenes with pencil and watercolor, sparking something new. Connie was meticulous with every paper always focused, Making sure not a single mistake was made on our drawings. Our conversation ran wild with detail of the characters, but today, letting ourselves wander, Connie's lines a bit looser, her laugh more frequent.
We both heard it.
"Connie?"
The voice was firm. Crisp. No nonsense.
Connie's eyes went wide. "M-mom."
She shot up, already crossing the room. I stood, brushing eraser bits off my jeans, spine straightening without meaning to.
Dr. Maheswaran entered through the front door, dressed in her sharp navy scrubs, keys still in hand. Her expression froze when she saw me.
"Who is this?"
"I—Mom, this is Ethan," Connie said quickly. "He's a friend. From Beach City."
"I can see that," she said tightly. "You invited someone over without asking?"
"I'm sorry," Connie said. "I just thought.. since you weren't home,"
"That's exactly the point, Connie." Her gaze snapped to me. "Ethan, is it?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said, standing straight, and slipping the sketchbook onto the couch as smoothly as I could without feeling like I was in an exam room.
She looked me over. I didn't blame her. Mysterious boy with no last name, no parents in town, apparently hanging out in her house while she was gone? Yeah, I wouldn't trust me either.
"Do your parents know you're here?"
"No ma'am. I don't... really have parents. Not here." I didn't flinch but that came out more blunt than I meant it to. "But I wouldn't come if Connie hadn't invited me. I respect her. And I'd never disrespect someone's home."
She crossed her arms. "And what, exactly, do you do?"
"I read. A lot. Mostly history, physics, anything about Earth I can get my hands on." I said, unsure of how to exactly answer.
There was a beat. She glanced at my clothes—clean but a little faded, the kind of hoodie that had been washed one too many times.
"You live in Beach City?" she asked.
"Sort of. I stay where I'm needed."
Her brow ticked up. "That's vague."
I shrugged. "Yeah. I guess I'm still figuring it out." Then, more direct: "But I like books. And Connie said she had shelves full of them."
There was a pause. Her posture softened, only slightly, but I caught it.
"You spend your time reading?"
I nodded. "Mostly. I mean, I've seen a lot, and it helps to understand things. Stories explain stuff even when people won't."
She looked at me for another long second, then at Connie, then back at me. "You look like you could use a meal."
I blinked. "Sorry?"
She gestured to the kitchen. "Stay for dinner. I assume you're not allergic to lentils."
I shook my head. "Not at all."
"Good. Wash your hands."
With that, she disappeared down the hallway, still radiating that no-nonsense energy but not nearly as sharp.
Connie let out a breath like she'd just been underwater. "Okay. That... could've gone worse."
"She's cool," I said, nudging my sketchbook back into place. "stern. But cool."
"You're like, the first person she's ever invited to dinner without call someone first."
"Guess I passed the vibe check."
"Thanks," she whispered.
I smiled faintly. "For what?"
"For not panicking."
"I didn't think I had the option," I said, then picked up the next book. Still a little shooken by her arrival.
We continued working in a more muted mood, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, there was a strange sense of victory in the air, like we'd passed some secret test.
Later that evening, as Connie's mom washed dishes with the low murmur of the radio playing behind her, I sat on the couch with a sketchpad resting on my knee. The scene I was working on blurred out as my thoughts wandered.
I wasn't from here. Not really. I wasn't even of here. But I was in it now, this world, this life.
The Diamonds weren't my only concern anymore. They were just the start the biggest of my problems. Once they were gone... what then?
College? That was a joke, I didn't even have a birth certificate. But it wasn't impossible though. I could get creative creative. Maybe someone at the library could help me forge a student ID. Or maybe... I could make a business. Something lowkey. I'd seen what Beach City folks liked and didn't have. Maybe a boat shop, or a vintage tech repair stand. People always needed those here.
What did I want? That was the real question.
"Ethan?"
I blinked. Connie was standing beside the couch, eyebrows raised.
"Sorry," I muttered. "Got a little... lost."
She bumped my arm with her elbow, gentle but grounding. "You spaced out for like a whole minute."
"Only a minute?" I grinned. "New record."
She rolled her eyes, but the smile betrayed her amusement.
I tapped the book beside us. "Now where were we? I think this chapter had the underground rebellion, right?"
Her face lit up again as she pulled the book into her lap. "Exactly. And this time, I'm sketching the crystal chamber. No arguing."
"Wouldn't dream of it."