If she was being honest with herself, she had always been a little strange. Calling someone your "sweet Baboo" wasn't exactly something normal people did. Then again, her big brother saw a little girl at a psychiatric booth at least twice a day and their dog flew to France on the top of his dog house. She wasn't exactly raised in a "normal" environment. She supposed that when your parents worked twelve hour days and you had to raise yourself, things would get a little off track. She wondered how she would be like now if she had a mother who didn't work nights a father who liked being at home instead of his barber shop. Yet Sally knew for a fact she didn't want to be anyone than who she was right then.

It started as a friendship. In their childhood, Lucy was always going over to bother him while Sally was too busy chasing after Linus to really care what the older kids were doing. By the time she was ten, Sally had given up on her infatuation with the boy-wonder of their neighborhood. He simply was not interested and she had to accept that. Lucy, however, would not give up her pursuit. She was determined; the younger girl would give her that.

So one day after fifth grade when her brother was practicing his pitching (he had gotten a lot better after going to baseball camp) and all her friends (the handful she had anyway) were busy at dance or cooking classes, Sally grabbed her homework and trekked the half block to his house. On many occasions Charlie Brown had told her that if he and their parents were gone, she should go to Schroeder's house for company. It wasn't safe for a girl to be alone in such a big house. Or so he insisted.

When Sally knocked she was petrified. She wasn't sure how the twelve year old would take to his practice being interrupted, although really he didn't need it at all. She was fully prepared to beg if she had to. Staying at home alone was never fun, especially when it got darker earlier.

To her delight, when Schroeder opened the white washed door and saw it was not Lucy, he grinned.

"Oh good, it's just you. Come on in. Ol' Charlie Brown is practicing in the field?" He inquired. Sally nodded shyly and followed him in. She was usually a fairly confident, if not chatty person, but in the presence of Schroeder she seemed to turn into a bashful child. She wasn't sure why. That had been the case since she could remember.

"Yeah, he told me before heading over to the field. I left him a note at home so I assume he'll just come grab me," she explained, clutching the strap to her lemon backpack tightly. Schroeder hadn't changed from his school clothes. He was still dressed in his purple shirt with black slacks. The only difference was he was in sock feet instead of his Nike runners.

Sally felt awkward in such a foreign house. She usually wasn't invited over to when Charlie Brown went, that and she usually felt she had better things to do than tag along with her older brother. Now though, she was beginning to wish she had.

Instead of the tiny miniature piano, Schroeder had upgraded to a slick grand piano that occupied his neutral-coloured living room. It seemed his whole house was drained of a palette. Unless you wanted to call white, beige, and cream a palette, which Sally did not. It was nice though, simple if anything. The thing Sally was most worried about was where to sit. She felt like sitting on an off-white leather couch would be a crime, especially one as nice as Schroeder's.

The older boy nodded and made his way back to his piano. "You can put your bag on the coffee table if you want. My parents will be back at five for dinner. You can stay if you want," he offered. Sally had never been to a boy's house to dinner, not even Linus'. She eagerly nodded and thanked him for being so kind. After putting down her bag, she began to look around the living room with more intent. Schroeder's playing became the background music.

There were paintings on the wall of famous statues, ancient ruins, and other things Sally had only heard about in books. She had never realized what a cultured and. . .different environment Schroeder had grown up in. He wasn't normal by any means either, and she liked that about him.

Eventually, standing in white penny loafers became unbearable and Sally opted to sit by her brother's friend on the piano bench. She made sure to give him enough space in case he needed to reach a certain key but Schroeder didn't seem to mind her sitting there. She managed to take off her shoes with her feet and laid them underneath the bench, airing out her pinched toes. Sally hadn't had a chance to change when she got home so she was still dressed in her school girl attire of a navy blue dress and knee high stockings.

When the first piece was done, Schroeder continued on, but started a conversation with her. Sally felt guilty that she was distracting him, but was glad he wasn't ignoring her either.

"I noticed you were admiring the paintings."

"Yes, they're neat. Who painted them?"

"My mother." Schroeder never talked about his mother. Sally wasn't sure if she was still alive but didn't want to ask for fear of offending him. She would have to check with Charlie Brown that night.

Sally complimented her talent then stayed silent after that. She admired the way his skilled fingers pressed the keys delicately, like he was caressing them (yes she knew what that word meant; she had listened in English). The young girl caught him smiling at her from the corner of her eye and had to fight the urge to blush. Boys usually didn't smile at her like that unless they wanted her to go away. Sally instead closed her eyes and just appreciated the music he was making, her homework laying forgotten on the table.

That was how their friendship started. Every day after school for the next six years Sally would skip over to his house and after an hour of diligent appreciation of his talent, they would work on their homework. Although Sally had never liked school, she was good at it, especially English, unlike Schroeder. He paid attention in the sciences and maths because his father insisted those were the only ones that mattered, so when it came to English, he was lost. They made a good team in all honesty. The boy often told her that he liked having her around more than Lucy, because although Lucy was nice, she talked too much. She didn't come over to listen to the music. She only wanted to see him and ask him how many kids they would have when they got married. Schroeder didn't like the idea of having fuss budget children with Lucy and it was the main reason he locked the door once Sally came. Neither of them wanted to chance her walking in on the two friends.

Sally knew Lucy was suspicious. Often the younger girl would hear her gossiping with her friends about him.

"I don't know what he does all day in that house. The doors are locked and the curtains shut and it's so dark I can't see a thing! It's like he's hiding from me!" She would exclaim. Sally did feel guilty for causing someone she considered a great friend pain, but she just wanted to keep her friendship with Schroeder a secret for a little bit longer.

Linus didn't seem to care one way or another, and that bothered her more than she cared to admit. Although she had given up her pursuit of the boy, she still cared a great deal for him. She would have given anything to be able to confide in him, or at least know that he was concerned. Sally knew that would never happen though. Linus didn't value her any longer, not like when they were kids and could at least say they were friends. He was with a new crowd now and didn't have time for her.

Charlie Brown was the only one who really knew anything at all about what was going on. He trusted Schroeder immensely with his sister and even went so far as to say he was happy the two were such good friends. He believed they both needed each other greatly and had told both of them that individually and when they were together. Schroeder so often isolated himself with his music. Sally was able to remind him of a life with more than melodies and Beethoven. In turn, the pianist exposed her to a cultured world, where talent and creativity were valued instead of shunned. He had been the one to get her started with her writing. She had written her first poem about him. Mind you it was awful compared to her more recent work, but it was her first work and meant a lot to him. He still had a copy of it in his file folder.

Now at sixteen, Sally was sprawled out on Schroeder's floor, her one leg propping up the other while a dangling foot held her black ballerina flat in the mid-air. Her halo of flaxen curls embedded themselves in his beige carpet, becoming full of static. Her style had changed from dresses to form fitting skirts with men's button up shirts and multi-coloured tights, but her personality hadn't changed much from when she was ten.

Schroeder sat at his piano, absentmindedly running through his scales. Honestly, he could do it in his sleep by now and Sally had heard them so often, she believed she could too. Yet she still enjoyed hearing him play. In the fall he was going to attend Julliard and Sally knew she would miss this time with him. Summer didn't seem long enough to fit in all the things she wanted to do with him before he disappeared from their neighborhood.

"Will you forget me once you go?" Sally asked, louder than she had originally wanted to. The music stopped almost instantly. She needed to know her biggest nightmare would not come true. She had to know if he would find another girl to write pretty songs for or someone else to help him write his English papers. Because Sally honestly didn't think she could find someone else who would inspire her to write as much as he did. She didn't believe she could love anyone more than she did him.

Sally heard his padded footsteps come closer and spotted his socked feet come up from behind the piano. She heard him sit beside her, making himself comfortable in his black slacks and button up violet shirt, before answering.

"That's a stupid question."

She narrowed her eyes. "That's a stupid answer. It's not even a real answer," she retorted.

Schroeder laughed. He seemed to always laugh around her. She wasn't sure if that was such a good thing.

"It's a stupid question because you shouldn't even need to ask it. I'm not gonna forget you Sally. That's like asking me if I'll forget who Beethoven is." Sally's cheeks were ablaze and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling.

The young lady rolled onto her stomach, her curls dangling in front of her eyes as she stared seriously up at her secret love (a secret because she had yet to tell him).

"Don't be so sure. One day you could meet this really cultured woman who knows all about Beethoven and plays piano or maybe the violin and while playing music one night you could be overwhelmed with desire and make love to her on your piano."

Schroeder stared wide-eyed at Sally. She shrugged passively. "I read a lot of romance novels. And write them. Anyway, it could happen! The fact that I'm just Charlie Brown's little sister doesn't hold much weight compared to a classy lady like that."

The musician shook his head and ruffled her hair affectionately. "While I must admit the picture you painted is tempting, I can't say I'd like to "make love" on my piano. The symbolism is there, but I cherish it too much to desecrate it like that. And if you honestly think all you are to me after six years is Charlie Brown's sister, then you are seriously misinformed."

Sally was glad to hear she held a better place in Schroeder's heart, but she wondered what he really felt. Soon he would be gone and she wouldn't have the change to ask. She would miss her best friend so much and all she wanted to do some days was hold him tight and pretend he wasn't leaving. But he was and she needed to straighten things out. If he just wanted to be friends, she could do that. She just had to know.

The teenager sat up and crossed her legs underneath her, resting most of her weight on the hand that rested on the carpet.

"Then what am I to you?" She asked seriously, her doe eyes convening what she hoped were something akin to love, but had a feeling it wasn't coming across. 'Please just tell me that you won't forget us, even if you don't love me.'

The blonde senior cleared his throat awkwardly, his shyness becoming apparent. Schroeder's soft hand reached out and clasped her propping hand tightly.

"I. . .I'm in love with you. I can't say it any other way," he replied simply, avoiding her blueberry gaze. Sally's face broke out in a grin and without hesitation she cupped Schroeder's heart-shaped face in her hands and kissed him. He was caught off guard and she nearly fell backward at his unsteadiness. Thankfully he caught himself and laced his arms around her back, pressing her closer to him.

Sally wasn't sure how long it was until they separated (she lost count after the fifth kiss) but when they broke apart for air, she couldn't resist the urge to giggle. She nudged his nose with hers, moving her hands from his chest, where they had been resting, to around his neck.

"So. . .wanna do it on your piano?" She asked teasingly once she caught her breathe. Schroeder laughed loudly, giving her a squeeze as he moved his legs so they were spread out in front of him.

"Maybe after you come to New York after graduation. I hear there are some great writing programs out there," he whispered in her ear before tilting his head to kiss her again.