New Neighbors

Him

  You left his house with his number, his socks, and a goofy smile plastered to your face.

He kissed me.

We kissed.

To be honest, that was your first kiss.

A second kiss from someone else would have a damn lot to compete with.

   Your mom is now home to let you in, and once she does she showers you with questions.

"What were you doing outside?"

"Were you cold?"

"Are you cold?"

"Honey who's socks are those?"

   "UHH," You stutter. "Our neighbors?- Uhm our neighbors," you say clearing your throat, more sure of yourself the third time through.

 "You met them already? I was planning on saying Hi. You know there's a boy your age,-"

 "OH, I KNOW." You say cutting her off - immediately regretting it.

"What?"

   "Yeah, I.. Said hey." A wash of embarrassment falling over you as you try to slowly back out of the room.

   After a few last aimless questions, you walk into your room and fall face first onto your bed.

Oh, your bed. All the wonderful things you could say about that beautiful invention to civil day society.

It was white with a delicate floral pattern on the comforter. Your pillows were dark blue and silk, and all together that bed was one of your most valued worldly possessions.

Breathing in deeply, you surrendered to your thoughts.

Was he even real

Kissing him was like breathing; something so natural and needed.

   You decided to get rid of- or at least cope with all your over emotional teenage angst by listening to music.

   Arctic Monkeys - Favourite Worst Nightmare. Yeah, the whole album.

   You spent the most of the day that way.

   Hunger bit at your stomach, and eventually you walked downstairs to the promise-land, (aka the kitchen). Nothing looked particularly good in the fridge, so you checked the freezer.

Popsicles.

Rocket popsicles.

You popped one in your mouth, tried to avoid eye contact with the rest of your family downstairs, and skittered up the stairs.

   Once in your room, you opened the window and climbed out.

I know what you're thinking. "IS SHE COMMITTING THE SUICIDE,-VAAT?!"

No.

There is a popsicle in your hand now - obviously you have a lot to live for.

   Outside your window was a small stoop created from part of the roof. There was a mirroring stoop connected to the window of your neighboring house too - what would happen there was still out of mind. 

You sat there sometimes, daydreamed, and just escaped your own mind.

 A flash of boxer shorts and open back muscles shocked you to the realization that you weren't the only person on the second floor of a house. You almost choked.

His window wasn't open, but holy shit you couldn't look away.

Dylan was pacing in his room, sitting down - then back up. Something was bothering him, and you could tell.

  You didn't notice the faint sound of your phone having a seizure from where you were sitting, but it was reason enough to go back inside and check on it.

The lights hung up around the edges of your room were facinating, and distracting.

Your phone was on it's last buzz before entering the abyss of voicemails you never checked, and you tripped over yourself to pick it up.

Dylan.