The years have passed and Wyatt Matthew Halliwell has grown into an All-American seventeen-year-old boy. Raised by a loving mother and two adoring aunts, he quickly learned to be the man of the house. He played a sport for every season, soccer in the fall, basketball in the winter and baseball in the spring. His grades were average, though Spanish and math were not his greatest subjects. Over all, his family was extremely proud of him as he finished his junior year and Wyatt had never been happier than that year, the year he met Jordan Berkley.


She never ceased to amaze him, his crazy, beautiful, smiling best friend. Best friend and maybe more. Jordan always made him blush. Now as she sat next to him in his Spanish 3 class, with her brown hair pulled back into an easy pony tail and her pale green eyes shining brightly as she made some snide comment about their "profesora" in his ear while pretending to studiously type notes onto her laptop, he couldn't imagine what life would have been like if she hadn't moved to San Francisco at the beginning of the year.

Class ended and the blond teenager known as Wyatt Halliwell closed his computer and stood next to his jean overall and white tank top clad friend Jordan Berkley.

"My mom wanted to know if you're still coming over for dinner tonight," Wyatt told Jordan as they exited the room Wyatt had dubbed "The Underworld."

"Of course, I don't have anything better to do than tutor you jock in Spanish," Jordan grinned, waving to an acquaintance of theirs in the hall as they made their way to second period, paper bag lunch and school-issued laptops in hand.

"And don't forget the trig, too. We've got that quiz tomorrow."

"I'd never forget the trig," Jordan rolled her eyes. She dodged a running freshman late for class and rejoined him as they passed through the door.

"So, do you wanna come over right after school? I can give you a ride," Wyatt offered. They reached their destination, second period AP World History, and scooted into their seats, he behind her.

"Sounds good," the non-car owner answered over her shoulder. "Remind me to thank your mom again for making me dinner so many nights a week."

"Jordan, my mom is a chef, cooking is what she does. She loves having you over. And my aunts absolutely adore you. All I hear is 'Why aren't you getting A's like Jordan?' or 'Your friend Jordan is SO sweet!' It's disgusting," Wyatt teased with a blue eyed wink as the teacher cleared his throat to begin class.

"You're lying," Jordan accused in a singsong voice, opening her computer and starting the History programs.

"I'd like to announce that junior dues are due tomorrow, all of you Class of 2021 kids better hurry up and cough up the money," their aging World History teacher announced, quieting the pair. "Now, let's get started."


"Mom! We're home!" Wyatt called as he came in the front door of the old Halliwell Manor, holding it open for Jordan behind him.

"Yeah, Mom, we're home," Jordan laughed.

"I'm in the kitchen, guys!" Piper responded.

Dropping their things by the door, the teens went to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

"What do you guys want?" Piper asked as they came in.

"Just some chips and did, nothing fancy," Wyatt smiled, dropping a brief kiss on the cheek as he got some lemonade from the fridge.

"Wyatt, I'm a chef, I don't do chips and dip," Piper grinned, slicing the carrots for that night's dinner.

"Then I'll do it," Wyatt resolved as he handed Jordan her lemonade and grabbed the chips from the cupboard and the salsa from the refrigerator.

Piper rolled her eyes. "How was school?"

"Decent," Jordan answered.

"Horrible," Wyatt responded.

Jordan hit him playfully.

"We'll be in the attic," Wyatt laughed, snaking a hand around Jordan to tickle her side.

"Have fun," Piper called as they chased each other up the stairs.