he walked, clearly getting far too much satisfaction out of the situation.
I grumbled under my breath as I went to follow him.
The next few days were going to be agony.
2
Clary
One highway and a handful of streets separated Aiden’s house from mine, and even though it was walking distance away, it felt like I was moving to the other side of the country. No, worse than that, it was like being sent straight to the depths of hell for the next few days without any chance of escape.
I let out a sigh as my house disappeared and leaned my head against the window of Aiden’s truck as I watched the streets whiz by. It was strange how quickly things had changed since the lockdown restrictions were announced. Nothing ever happened in our sleepy little town, but even Harford was feeling the burden of the pandemic.
Shops had gradually been shutting this week, and stricter rules were being announced daily. Only a few days ago, I’d been hanging out with my friends, but now you could only spend time with those people in your household. Unfortunately for me, that small circle of people now included Aiden Moore.
There was almost nobody on the streets as Aiden drove us to his house. We only passed a handful of cars, and there were barely any pedestrians on the sidewalks. The few people who had decided to leave their houses appeared to be out exercising, and some had surgical masks covering their faces. It felt like the world had pressed the pause button. None of this felt real.
The truck slowed as we reached Aiden’s house, and with a mixture of dread and frustration, I stepped from the vehicle. Aiden’s home was gorgeous and looked like something out of a magazine. The front yard had a lush green lawn, which was bordered by perfectly trimmed hedges. The house was freshly painted in a dark navy color with white trim on the windows. It even had a white picket fence, like many other houses on the street.
My family’s house was simple in comparison. We lived in a small two-bedroom cottage that was cute and filled with character. Most of our furniture came from garage sales, and thanks to Mom’s good taste, she somehow made the eclectic pieces work together. It wasn’t like my parents were poor, but their priorities were very different from a lot of people in town. They spent most of their money on travel. It was one of the things I loved most about them.
I must have been admiring Aiden’s house for too long because a deep chuckle came from behind me. I turned to find him walking around the back of the truck, my duffel bag in hand. “Are we going inside or are you just going to stare at the house all day?”
“Just sizing up my prison for the next few days,” I replied.
“Well, I can’t promise the slop they feed in there is up to your high standards, but I can almost guarantee you’re going to love your fellow inmates.” He winked at me and started off down the path toward the front door.
“I’m pretty sure I won’t,” I grumbled before going after him. Aiden had been bugging me at school for years, and if he hadn’t grown on me yet, I was fairly certain being confined with the guy wasn’t going to make me like him any better.
Aiden showed me into the house, and as soon as we entered the corridor, a door creaked open and his brother poked his head out of one of the rooms. I didn’t know Aiden’s brother well, but I recognized him from around town. He must have been about twelve years old now, and he’d grown a lot since I’d last seen him. He had the same green-blue eyes as Aiden and practically looked like a miniature version of his brother.
“This is my brother, Elliot,” Aiden said, waving a hand in his direction. “Elliot, this is Clary, the girl Mom told you about this morning.”
Elliot’s eyes widened slightly as he turned his gaze on me. He slowly ran his eyes over me before a smile crept onto his face. It was freakishly similar to the smirk Aiden always wore.
“Hey there, hot stuff,” Elliot said, opening the door wider so he could lean against the door frame. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Hot stuff?” It seemed that terrible flirting was a family trait. Also, why was a twelve-year-old asking me about a