Next Door

Chapter 2

Caelyn

Sitting on the couch, I thought about my first interaction with our new neighbor. My mind kept flashing between two thoughts, cheesy as it sounds.

One second, He's an ass.

The next, He's kind of cute; and so it went, until keys in the door roused Dozer, sending his old legs into a flurry and my thoughts retreating back into my mind. Mom would never let me hear the end of it if she knew either of the things I'd just thought.

If she knew my first conversation with our new neighbor's son went the way it did, she'd send me over there immediately to apologize.

If she knew that I thought he was even remotely attractive, she'd send me over there immediately to apologize - and ask for his number.

"Hey, Pal." Mom said as she walked in, calling me the nickname she'd coined when I was five. A hand fell on the head of the large yellow mass beside her to calm him down.

"Hey, mom. Where's dad?" I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen. One of the chairs on the living room side fell over, clattering onto the linoleum. Mom's eyes rolled back into her skull.

"I thought you grew out of the clumsiness."

I bent to pick up the spinning chair. "Let's not forget who gave birth to me." She raised an eyebrow. Our clumsiness was a running joke between us. Her favorite story to tell was of the time in first grade when I'd tripped over a stick in the back yard running to see my grandmother when she came to visit. I broke my arm.

"He's outside talking to the neighbors."

My heart sank. Bedroom neighbor was going to sleep, wasn't he? What was his name? Robbie. Please God, I silently prayed, please don't let it be Robbie.

"Apparently they have a son they homeschool too." She said, putting away some groceries from a reusable bag on the counter. Wasn't I supposed to put those away when they left? Whoops.

"Really." I feigned interest. Robbie said he was an actor right? Could he be homeschooled? No, he looked older than me. I mean, I am eighteen and going into my senior year, but that was only because my mom and dad started me in school late. Maybe that's why I'm an only child; they were too overprotective to put me into kindergarten at five, when everyone else started, maybe they want to spare any hypothetical children the tortures of the helicopter parents they once were. They'd since calmed down, knowing that homeschooling and moving constantly would keep me away from parties, boys and bad decisions, all staples of a successful high school career. I didn't care about those things though. I wasn't much of a party person and I never cared about having a boyfriend much. Of course, it wasn't just a boyfriend that they were scared of; it was the things I would do with a boyfriend. But I was never interested in that either, leading most people I talked to believe that there was something wrong with me. The few parties I'd been to were with old friends from elementary school and everyone was always making out or sneaking off to do worse.

"Caelyn!" Mom said, snapping her fingers near my face. I startled out of my thoughts.

"Yes, sorry." She hated it when I zoned out, but sometimes I just couldn't help it, like now.

"I was telling you that I thought we could get you and him together."

"Who?"