Joan's POV
I see him again this morning, standing in the foyer of the apartment building we live in. His tall and imposing slightly bow-legged figure stands by the double doors, and I see he's picking up his post which has just arrived. I smile as I push my backpack further up onto my shoulder. I was hoping I hadn't missed him. Maybe today will be the day we walk to campus together.
He's a third year university student, like me, but we've hardly spoken to each other despite living in the same building. I've tried many times to startup a conversation with him, but they've always ended up being one sided. He rarely speaks to anyone. I know he likes to keep to himself, but I wish I could share more than just a simple greeting with him. We are next door neighbours too after all.
As I watch him shove the few envelopes into his backpack which hangs off his shoulder, along with his familiar, grey camera bag, I decide that today is the day that I'm going to out right ask him if he wants to walk to campus with me. I used to drop hints about us walking the short walk together, but had given up on that idea fairly quickly when I had realised he wasn't interested. It's not that I long for company, because I don't. I just want to get to know him better. I want the two of us to maybe become friends.
But before I can say a word he leaves through the front door and disappears down the steps. He hadn't even noticed me standing right in front of him in the foyer. I hurry after him and try to catch up with him, but he's a lot faster than me and has disappeared the moment I reach the bottom step. I try not to sigh in disappointment as I fiddle with the red, tinsel scrunchie which is holding back my ginger hair. I had really hoped today would be the day.
I do see him in the library later on that afternoon, but just like this morning he hardly notices me. Instead he sits at his regular table with his regular portfolio open in front of him, which he's idly flicking through while casually resting his chin on one hand. As I get closer to him I can spot earbuds in his ears, and I notice his usual cassette tape player sticking slightly out of his hoodie pocket. Despite not having spoken much to him I know he's studying for a photography degree. The camera bag he always carries around with him is a dead giveaway, though I've rarely seen him take any pictures while on campus.
Sticking to my normal routine I head over to the table he's sitting at and sit down opposite him. I happily set down the textbook I've pulled off of one of the shelves before I dump my backpack down on top of the table. Usually he never looks up when I sit down, but I must have made a lot more noise than I usually do as today he glances up at me, and for what must be the first time since I first saw him move in next door to me, he looks right at me with such captivating, brown eyes my heart skips a beat. I'm suddenly entranced and can't look away from his intense gaze. I'm not sure what to do, so I offer up an awkward smile.
'Hey, Ellis,' I say only to remember he has earbuds in his ears. He probably can't hear me. But it turns out he can.
'Hey,' he suddenly mutters. At first I think I must have imagined it. But I quickly realise I hadn't when he speaks again. 'Nice scrunchie.'
I can't help but smile as I touch the red, tinsel scrunchie in my hair. Not only is he talking to me but he's also noticed an incredibly small detail that none of my classmates have yet noticed. 'Thank you. I thought seeing as Christmas is coming up I should try looking a little more festive,' I explain. 'Are you looking forward to the Christmas holidays?' I ask him brightly as I sit down in my seat. Now he's talking to me I want to make this conversation last a little longer while I have the chance to.
He pulls out his earbuds. 'Not really,' he mutters and he reaches into his hoodie pocket for his cassette player, which he turns off. I can only watch in a stunned silence as he wraps the earbuds around it. He's never once turned off his precious cassette tape player to listen to me.
'Wh - why not?' I ask him, noticing my voice is stuttering a little.
'I don't like Christmas.'
I blink at him.'Really?' I exclaim incredulously. 'How can you not like Christmas?'
He looks at me with a neutral expression on his rugged face. He's always been very easy on the eyes and I'm sure if he didn't shut himself off from everyone, he would be pulling girls on campus left, right and centre. Aside from his strong jawline, which is covered with a light scruff, his face is all sharp angles. I've always thought that he looks far more manly than he ought to.
'I just don't,' he replies in answer to my question and goes back to flicking through his portfolio.
I want to push him for a better answer but I find my attention being drawn to the photographs in his portfolio instead. Wanting to get a better look at them I lean over a little and see they're mainly photographs of flowers and trees, but they're all perfectly lit and expertly framed. They're certainly not the kind of photographs I expected to see. I expected his portfolio to be filled with countless shots of girls posing for his camera.
When he catches me looking at them he quickly shuts the folder, and casts an unimpressed scowl in my direction.
'I'm sorry,' I quickly apologise. 'I didn't mean to look. But I really like your photographs. They're really good. . . and so incredibly beautiful.' I give him another small smile before he looks back down at his closed portfolio.
'Thanks,' he mutters. 'I thought they were pretty boring myself.'
'Nature can never be boring,' I point out. 'I'm sure there's always so much to capture. .. like flowers which are starting to bloom. . . or woodland animals. And you seem to be an expert at it.'
He looks at me intensely for several long moments, as if weighing up whether to trust my words or not, until he offers up a nod of acknowledgement.
It's the first time we've shared more than just a greeting and I'm not about to give up now. I'm about to ask him how he became such a talented photographer, but before I can he shoves his portfolio into his backpack and gets up from the table. I try to stop him but he goes back to ignoring me, and all I can do is watch him leave with a heavy and disappointed heart. Did I say something wrong? Did I go a bit overboard with the compliments? I don't think I had been too forward, but maybe I had praised his work a little too much. Though why this would make him leave I don't know. I would understand him leaving if I had criticised his photographs, but I hadn't.
I watch as he shoulders his open backpack when he's near the library doors, along with his camera bag, and I see him zip it up only to notice something fall out onto the floor as he does. I quickly get up from my chair and hurry over to pick it up, but before I can tell him that he's dropped his portfolio he's already left the library.
I stand up with the dog-eared folder in my hands and take it back over to the table. I can easily return it to him when I get home. It'll give me another chance to speak to him, and maybe I can apologise for almost acting like a fan-girl over his photography.
Despite the longing I suddenly have to look through his portfolio and see what else he's photographed, I hurriedly slip it into my backpack before my hands can betray me. I shouldn't look through something that's not mine, no matter how much I want to.
I put the textbook back on its shelf, no longer having any enthusiasm for studying, and leave the library while shouldering my backpack. I've only just stepped through the doors when I hear a familiar voice call my name.
'Joan!'
I turn around and see Rebecca has appeared next to me. 'Hey, Rebecca,' I say with a smile. 'I thought you were heading home.'
'I was, but I just heard about this house party tonight.' She flicks back her long, chestnut hair while my smile falters. 'It's off campus and I've heard it's going to be the party to end all parties!' she continues, her hazel eyes bright with excitement. 'You have to come, Joan. You can even bring another friend if you want.'
I feign a smile as I assure Rebecca that I'll be there, when in reality I know I was only invited because she and her friends didn't want me to feel left out. I really don't want to go. I've never been a fan of house parties, but I know Rebecca will only invite me to more off campus parties if I don't go with her. According to her you can't be a university student and not attend at least one house party.
As I start the short walk home my mind is filled with thoughts of what kind of outfit I'm going to have to try and find in my wardrobe, which I can wear to this house party tonight. I have a few fancy dresses I could wear, but many of them are looking tired and worn, and some are far too short for me. But would it really matter? It's not as if anyone will notice. Rebecca has dragged me to a few house parties in the past and I've always been left standing by myself in a corner of the room, while she dances and drinks with her other friends. Dressing up, partying and drinking just aren't my kind of things.
I'm so lost in thought when I arrive back at my flat that I almost forget all about Ellis' portfolio, which is still in my backpack. I unzip it and take out the old and cheap looking folder when I reach the door to my flat. I then look at the door next to mine and suddenly wonder if Ellis will perhaps come to the house party with me if I ask him. I know it's along shot but there's no harm in asking him. I would feel far more comfortable if I turned up at the party with another person, aside from Rebecca.
While holding his portfolio in one hand I knock on the door to his flat. I'm not sure if he's in, but I've rarely seen him leave his flat in the evenings or even on weekends. I stand and wait patiently outside his door for a few moments, while feeling the cover of the portfolio in my hands, until the door finally opens and he's suddenly standing in front of me, wearing one of his usual hoodies and a pair of blue jeans. His collar length, honey blonde hair looks to have been recently washed and I catch a whiff of what smells like mint, which must be the scent of his shower gel.
'Hey,' I say with one of my friendly smiles, before I hold up his portfolio. 'You dropped this in the library.'
He doesn't look as relieved as I had expected him to as he takes it from me. 'Thank you,' he mutters in a small voice.
'No problem,' I tell him brightly as I push my heavy backpack further up onto my shoulder, and before I can miss my chance I mention the off campus house party that's happening tonight. But just like I had somewhat expected he quickly tells me how he doesn't do house parties.
'Oh. . . well, that's fair enough,' I say while tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, which has come lose from my ponytail, managing to hide my disappointment from him. 'I just thought I would ask as I didn't want you to feel left out.'
He continues to look at me with those deep, brown eyes of his, and I flash him a smile only to then awkwardly clear my throat, while looking away from his intense gaze.
'Maybe we could walk to campus together one morning,' I suggest hopefully. Though I had given up on dropping hints weeks ago I still feel like it's worth a try, especially after the short conversation we had in the campus library.
'I drive,' he tells me bluntly and his answer stuns me. I had no idea he drove to campus. I didn't even know he owned a car. But as the car park is at the back of the apartment building there isn't really a chance of me ever seeing his car.
'Oh. . . of course,' I mutter while feeling my heart sink even more. 'Then I guess I'll see you around campus instead.'
I turn around and head back to my flat, but I feels his eyes on me as I walk away and disappear through my own front door.
Despite toying with the idea of not attending the house party at all I somehow work up the courage to attend it, but like at every other house party I've been to I spend a lot of the party awkwardly standing alone in a quiet corner. I've never felt so out of place and I end up leaving early. I try to tell Rebecca that I'm leaving but she's too busy having fun with her other friends to even care about me.
'So. . . how did you enjoy the party last night?' she asks me the next afternoon as she follows me to the classroom where our art lesson is taking place.
She asks me this question after every house party she drags me to, and I force a fake smile onto my face every time. 'It was. . . fun,' I lie.
'It was, wasn't it?'she agrees happily, once again not being able to see through my false facade. 'I told you Charlene throws great parties. You didn't bring a friend though,' she quickly points out.
'No,' I mutter. 'I did ask my neighbour if he wanted to go with me.'
'You mean the good looking guy you keep seeing in the library?' she prompts and I nod, suddenly remembering that I had accidentally told her about Ellis a while ago.
'I asked him if he wanted to come with me,' I find myself telling her.
'You mean you actually spoke to him?' she exclaims.
'I returned his portfolio,' I explain. 'And I thought I would ask him. . . but he said he doesn't do parties.'
'A lot like you then,' she points out to me and I immediately fall silent. I can't disagree with her words. 'Is he lonely too?'
'I don't know,' I admit in a small, almost thoughtful voice before I pick up on the tone of her innocuous words. 'I'm not lonely, Rebecca,' I tell her. 'I never have been.'
She just nods at me. 'If you say so,' she says and I can tell she doesn't believe me. I knew she wouldn't. It's true I feel pretty lonely sometimes in my one bedroom flat. I wonder if Ellis feels the same. I've never seen him invite anyone over and his flat is pretty quiet most of the time, except for the soft rock music that I can sometimes hear through the thin walls. But none of this means he's lonely. He probably just likes to keep to himself. Still, I think back to the hopeful look I had seen in his eyes when he had answered the door yesterday afternoon. It had quickly disappeared when he had seen me standing on the other side. It was as if he had been expecting someone and they hadn't shown up. Almost as if he had been stood up; something I can definitely relate to. I have a strong feeling Ellis and I are not very different.
'So, that's your good deed done for the year then,' Rebecca points out to me as we find our seats in the partly filled lecture hall.
'What? Giving him back his portfolio?' I question as I set my backpack down on the floor. 'I wouldn't call it a good deed.'
'Why not?'
'Because it's what anyone else would have done if they lived next door to him,' I tell her as we both start taking our sketchbooks out of our backpacks for our art class.
'Perhaps you should give him an Christmas card,' she suddenly suggests and I quickly point out that I'm already planning on giving him one. I know he had said he doesn't like Christmas, but I believe everyone should receive at least one Christmas card. But at the same time I find myself wondering if I should try and up my good deed and do something more, just to try and instill some Christmas spirit in him.