The Guy Next Door
---One Year Ago---
“Hi!”
The guy with the extremely messy hair blinks a couple of times, one arm sprawled across the doorway. It’s the only thing holding him up. I don’t think his legs can. He looks like he’s recovering from a hangover; he’s sporting a black shirt that’s arm holes are bigger than the shirt itself and baggy shorts. I can even smell from here the amount of poisoning alcohol he must’ve consumed last night.
I continue on anyways.
“I’m Kently Lewis, I just moved into the townhouse that’s part of yours, I know not a lot of people go around to meet their neighbors anymore, but I was thinking, why not, you know, because we all need to get along, I mean we are living next to each other, the least we can do is get on a first name basis - ”
“Shut the hell up, lady.”
I blink. Nobody’s ever said that to me before. Yes, I tend to ramble on into oblivion, and yes, I’ve had some nasty comments come my way before, but never those five words. “Excuse me?”
The guy rolls his head towards me, his lips not even forming an expression. “I’ve got a major effing headache and your voice is not soothing it.”
A tad of anger spikes through my veins. I’m not being rude to him, so there is no need to be nasty. “Listen, I’m only trying to get to know my neighbors. I thought I’d start with you.”
He rubs his forehead softly, wincing a bit. “Yeah, alright. I gotta go, cupcake, there’s a girl up in my bed that’s probably wondering where I am.”
I don’t know if he’s talking about some random girl or his girlfriend, but I kind of don’t care. Even though it’s extremely appalling to tell someone. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”
He rubs his eyebrow with his thumb, looking thoroughly annoyed with me. “Dalton. Dalton Hoffman.”
I grin widely, reaching my hand out. “Nice to meet you Dalton Hoffman.”
He fully opens his eyes now, but it takes a minute.
And then promptly slams the door in my face.
---Present Time---
I never knew how much one person could cause you so many mixed emotions at once.
Sometimes those mixed emotions are good.
Right now they’re bad, all bad.
Growling under my breath, I grab my trusty old broom that’s been through hell and back, and march over to my wall. I fully understand now why this townhouse was on the market for dirt cheap. It’s because of Dalton Hoffman.
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Itty Bitty Stories
Short StoryThese are all little itty bitty stories that are just here to make you happy. They never end; I just keep posting and posting these ideas that pop into my head or dreams that come to me in my sleep. There's never a sad ending, just a dash of humor...
