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The Boy Next Door

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I’m getting a new neighbor.

            I have no idea if I should be enthusiastic about the idea or not. I mean, my last neighbor was this old grumpy man who shouts “Stay off my lawn!” to kids and people. Not like, I’m the friendly kind of neighbor either. But still…

            My best friend, Sarah Delia who lives across the street is the one who gets super excited about it.

            “I hope they have a really cute guy. Maybe, you can finally date him,” Sarah was sprawled on my bed, keeping her feet and hands carefully apart as she waited for the nail polish to dry.

            I rolled my eyes. “Is that all you ever think about? Getting me a new date?”

            “Duh. You’re like, the only person I know who doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

            I lift my left eyebrows.

            “Okay, maybe not the only one. But still…”

            Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one of those girls who’s anti-guys. But I’m a hopeless romantic. And most guys are jerks.

            Sarah jumped on my bed suddenly, ignoring her nails and feet. Uh-oh. This must not be good.

            “What?” I asked.

            “Want to see who moved in?” Unfortunately, I speak Sarah’s language, which translates, “Wanna spy on the next door neighbor?”

            “No.”

            She pouted. “Aww… C’mon. You’re no fun at all.”

            I walked to my window and saw my neighbor’s putting stuff in their house. “Or we could help them moving their stuff in their house. They look like they need some extra hands.”

            Sarah move to the window next to me and peered outside. She shrugged. “Or we could do that.”

            I know my mom’s in the kitchen, so I went there to tell her we’re going out. When I entered the kitchen I was greeted with a warm scent of pie. The kitchen always smells that way. It would when your mom make pies and cookies for a living. “Hey mom, we’re gonna help the next door neighbor. They looked like they need a hand.”

            “Wait, I made a pie for them. Would you help me and hand it to them too?” Mom said as she pulled out a pie out of the oven.

            “Yeah.”

            She wrapped it up and hand it to me. “Careful. It’s hot. And say hi to them for me. I wish I could help but I have to make another 3 dozen of those.”

            My neighbor’s a married couple. They were carrying a lamp each when Sarah and I arrived with the pie.

            “Hi. I’m your neighbor. My mom made a pie for you,” I said to the woman, her husband already went inside the house.

            “Why don’t you come on in and put the pie inside. We’re got our hands full in the moment,” the woman smiled at me.

            Sarah stepped forward. “Need a hand? I could carry that.”

            The woman waved her off. “Nah… I got this. There’s more in the truck if you want to help.”

            “Come on in,” the woman said and I followed behind her.

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