A Wall Between

Chapter 3

Sasha was slowly — or perhaps in the scheme of things actually quite rapidly — losing it. His house plant, Herbert, was dying, and he felt deeply upset and ashamed. It needed more sunlight, and it couldn't substitute it with vitamin D supplements like he did.

He woke up early, before his neighbours were usually awake, and took it outside to his small balcony.

The air smelled different out here. Not necessarily better or worse, but different. It probably wasn't good for him to stay shut up in the same small room all the time with all the doors and windows shut. Well, it definitely wasn't good for him for several reasons, but he'd heard some things about carbon dioxide build up and it being bad for mental function. Herbert definitely wouldn't have been enough to balance that out.

Sasha hadn't wanted to go out onto the balcony, but now that he was there he found himself feeling better than he had in weeks. More human. He almost wanted to go out and take a walk around the neighbourhood. He wouldn't do it because that seemed scary, but it had been a while since he'd wanted anything at all.

He'd actually thought he'd been getting sick for a while, which didn't make much sense because he'd hardly interacted with another human for weeks, but he'd been lethargic and headachy and bluh. Then someone across the hall had started playing music too loud and he'd completely fallen apart in less than a minute and he'd realised he wasn't sick at all. His anxiety had just been quietly cooking up some sensory overload and the combination of the two was kicking him hard.

He'd thought hiding himself away even more was the solution, but now that he was out here he wasn't so sure.

And then he heard the glass door slide open next door and a young man stepped out onto the balcony next to Sasha's. His short hair, bleached and dyed ash blond, was mussed from sleep and he was wearing boxers. Only boxers. He had a slender, athletic build. Maintaining eye contact had never been harder.

Sasha was wearing pyjamas. He always wore pyjamas. These ones had kitty faces on them.

Sasha had always sort of assumed he would recognise his neighbours if he saw them, but this person was a complete stranger to him. That was the reality. He assumed this was either Cooper or Abra, but he had no idea which one.

The guy smiled at him and Sasha found himself smiling back, then dipping his head because he knew his smile looked weird but then he also looked weird when he squirmed in on himself and tried to hide it, too, so there was no hope for him.

It was over. It was all over.

"Hey," the guy said, and Sasha immediately knew this was Cooper. He recognised his voice.

"Hi," Sasha said. Well, sort of said. He wasn't sure he'd actually made enough noise for Cooper to hear him.

"So you're our neighbour, huh?"

Sasha nodded.

"You've very quiet."

Sasha nodded again.

Cooper strummed his fingers against the railing. "Did you know that tortoiseshell cats and calico cats — like the ones on your top — are nearly always female?"

"I didn't know that," Sasha said, but the words came out so murmured and muddled that he wasn't sure they'd been understandable.

"It happens when cats have both orange and non-orange genes, but those genes are on the X chromosome so male cats only have one. That's the reason ginger cats are more often male, too. They only need one ginger gene to be ginger, but female cats need two or else they'll be calico or tortoiseshell instead."