Out of all the houses in Lion’s Ridge, Ava’s was one of the only two easily distinguishable from the rest. All thanks to Ava.
	Located in one of many roundabouts, her house stood out beside its plain. earth-toned neighbors. Flags hung from either side of the porch, one of the Irish flag and the other of a rainbow peace symbol. Various chimes hung on hooks from the porch’s awning, each jingling with their own tunes in the light summer breeze. Colorful metal wind spinners stuck out from the lawn and lined the sidewalk, swirling lazily.
	Ava sat on a porch swing. Celtic knotwork she had painted decorated the wooden swing, forming various types of wildlife. It creaked as it swung, Ava keeping it moving with her bare feet. She hummed softly to herself, finishing up a level of Candy Crush on her phone as she waited for Lydia to arrive.
	She glanced up from her game, checking to see if her best friend was anywhere nearby. A couple houses from hers, Mr. Higgens—a balding man in his late sixties—irritably pulled up weeds from a garden filled with herbs Ava could scarcely begin to pronounce. Her gaze lingered on him for only a moment before her greenish gray eyes settled on movement further down the street. Even from the distance, she recognized Lydia making her way toward the house.
	A smile spread over her orange-painted lips. She offered a vigorous wave, then shoved her phone in a pocket of her tattered-looking jean shorts. Quickly slipping on a pair of flipflops near the swing, she hurried to the sidewalk.
	The mid-morning sun set her fiery hair ablaze as she strolled toward Lydia. Her flipflops clopped unhurriedly against the pavement, closing the distance between her and Lydia.
	“Lidy!” she called as she neared, ready to greet her friend with her customary ‘hello hug.’