Arlo

1.

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He's been my best friend ever since I can remember. We met when my family moved into the house next to his and he caught me outside, moping on the steps. "Hi." He greeted, a small boy with hazel green eyes and the deepest dimples sitting in his puffy cheeks. "Hi." I replied, still moping but curious nonetheless. "I'm your neighbor." He stated, his hands folded in front of him as he rocked on his heels in his scuffed-up sneakers. "Okay." "what's your name?" he asked. "Alita." "I'm Arlo." "Arlo?" "Yeah. Well, nice to meet you." He stated, stretching his small hand out for me to shake. "Yeah, you, too." "Why are you sad?" he inquired, taking a seat next to me. "I didn't want to move." I answer, watching his golden hair blow in the wind. "I'm sorry about that." "Not your fault." "Arlo!" a kind, maternal voice beckons; "Well, see you around, neighbor." He chirps, standing to skip back to his house. We were only seven-years old then and I couldn't really be bothered by him, but he was persistent. Every day, he would greet me with that bright smile of his and somewhere along the line, I gave in. "You going to the dance?" he asks me, lying upside down on my bed so that his head rests against my shoulder. I sigh, shrugging my shoulder. "I don't know, probably not." "Why?" "You know me, Arlo. I scare people." "That's only because they don't give you a chance." "Well, that's why I'm not going, because I have no one to go with." "Now, that's not true." "Isn't it?" "You have me." We were thirteen when that happened. And it went like that through our whole friendship; constantly there whenever the other needed. "What happened; are you okay? It sounded urgent." I gasp for breath, although our houses are right next to each other, when I got his message asking me to come over it felt like my feet couldn't move faster. "I did it." He whispers, his excited grin splitting his face. "Did what?" I ask, stomach clenching because I already know the answer. "I lost my virginity, Alita." His excited voice whispers. I force the smile on my face, although inside, I feel sick. "Oh! Good for you." I choke out, taking a deep breath. He nods his head, lying on his back on his bed; I frown and take a seat at his desk rather than his bed. "Yeah. I was worried that I was going to hurt her or something." He confesses. For the next 20 minutes, I struggle to compel the bile back down my esophagus. "I'm gonna go. You know, have to study or whatever." I lie, turning away from him to wipe the mistiness away. "You can study here." He mutters and I try to ignore the wounded tone of his voice. "No. I need to do my chores and shower, too." I lie through my teeth, earning a quiet, "okay." We were sixteen, then. I called him when it happened for me, too. He seemed more genuinely happy for me than I was for him and a part of me hated that. I think I always knew that I felt more than friendship for Arlo, but I always swallowed it down along with a second hard pill that is the fact that he sees me as a sister. When he went through his first real heartbreak, I was there, holding him and combing my fingers through his dark brown hair, wishing that I could hurt her more than she had hurt him. "You're the best friend that anyone could ask for." He sighed into my neck. "Back at you, Arlo." And he was there to return the favor only a few short months later. He wrapped me in his arms, unknowingly putting my pieces back together while simultaneously smashing them to bits. He left me for a little while, promising to return with ice cream and rom-coms; only when he returned it was with bloody and bruised knuckles. "Arlo, what happened?!" I gasped, taking in his busted lip. "He shouldn't have hurt you." He stated simply, shrugging a shoulder as he handed me the pint of ice cream. "You didn't need to beat him up." "You're like my sister, of course I was going to beat his ass." And with that one word, my fate was sealed. When we turned eighteen, we were more devastated to be separating from each other than to be separating from our families. "Don't be a stranger, neighbor." He sniffled into my neck. I let a watery chuckle slip out of my lips to disappear into his neck. "You, too, Smiley." I whimper, holding onto him as though my life depended on it. That was a little over three years ago. We haven't seen each other in three years, yet I am still pining for him. He's become a successful business owner, amassing a little over half a million over these past three years. "When are you going to let yourself move on?" my closest friend, Amy, asks as we sit across from each other in this high-class bar, sipping on our wine. "what ever do you mean?" I deflect, sipping more of my wine. "You light up any time you hear his name and any time you talk about him. Babe, don't you think it's time to let yourself fall for someone new?" I shrug my shoulders, sighing heavily before all of the air in my lungs expires. "No fucking way." I gasp, standing and making my way to the bar where I spotted those familiar mahogany colored ringlets. "Arlo?" I greet, the wind getting knocked out of me when he turns around. His hazel green eyes brighten and his dimple pops out when he sees me. "Neighbor?" he greets. I chuckle, nodding. "Fucking hell, Arlo, it's been ages!" I state, throwing my arms around his broad shoulders. I rest my hands on his shoulders, squeezing the muscles beneath his black blazer, "These are new." I jest, earning a laugh. "You look amazing, Alita." He states, looking into my eyes. I shake my head, looking back up into his eyes. You look so familiar yet so different; more chiseled than the baby-faced teen I knew all those years ago, I muse. "What are you doing here? When did you get here? Why didn't you tell me?" I spitfire, earning a chuckle. "I'm about to open up a club here; I just got in an hour ago; and I did tell you. I texted you." He answers. I check my pockets for my phone, nodding to myself. "My phone is in my purse; I'm here with a friend." I reply. He nods his head. "I've missed you, neighbor." He mutters, looking into the gold liquid of his amber ale. "I've missed you, too, Smiley." I reveal, heart squeezing at his familiar boyish smile. "We should get together and catch up. Are you free tomorrow?" he asks. I shake my head, frowning in disappointment. "I've got to work." "When?" "From noon to ten." "Damn. Let me know when you're free." He demands, looking into my eyes, silently pleading. "Yeah, I will." I tell him, my heart clenching at the feeling of the conversation coming to a close. "I'm going to head back to my room; I'm beat, but please, Alita, I want to see you, again." He begs. I nod my head. "Yeah, okay. I'll call you when I get home." I reassure. He smiles again before wrapping me in his embrace that feels a lot like home. "Good. See you when I see you, then." He states and it feels like he isn't looking forward to letting me go, either. "I've really missed you, Smiley." I say into the fabric of his pale pink button down. "Back at you, neighbor." He whispers into my hair. He presses a kiss to the top of my head before pulling back and smiling down at me. "As soon as possible, Alita." He demands. I salute him, earning a laugh and a head shake. I, mindlessly, make my way back to the table. "Okay, I get it, now." "Huh?" "You can't move on because he can't either." "What the fuck are you talking about?" "He's just as in love with you as you are with him, you're both just ridiculously oblivious." I shake my head, slipping a $20 out of my wallet and placing it on the table. "Gonna head out?" she asks. I nod my head, slinging my purse over my shoulder. "One thing before I go, you're insane." I declare, pulling a loud cackle from her as I turn my back to her and walk out. As promised, I call him as soon as I set foot inside my apartment. "Hm, hey neighbor." He mumbles. "Did I wake you?" I query, making my way around to change into pajamas. "Not really. I was falling asleep but not quite there, yet. You're home, now?" he questions. "Yeah, getting ready for bed." "Where do you work?" "I work at Lei Studios." "The photography place?" "Yeah." There's a beat of silence. "You like it?" he hums; I can see him clearly in my mind; he's probably in nothing but his snug boxer briefs, his arm resting behind his head while the other one holds his phone, his eyes are probably slipping shut. "Yeah. I love my job." "That's good, neighbor." He sighs, his words coming out slower, like syrup. "Listen, as much as I want to keep talking to you, I can tell that you're falling asleep." "I'm sorry." "Don't apologize, lovey, I get it. I'll talk to you tomorrow." "Call me when you get a chance?" "Of course." "Alright. Sweet dreams, babe." He breathes, my heart freezes at the pet name. "Yeah, you too, lovey." I reply, whispering. I fall asleep with the image of Arlo's arms wrapped around me behind my lids.