The Boy Next Door

Chapter Seven

"Mum, where are you?" I shouted as I entered the house.

"Upstairs, Ashley."

I threw my bag down and ran upstairs, and as soon as I saw her, my eyes welled up, and the tears started to fall.

All day I had pretended to be strong. To be okay. But that was far from what I was. I had just become incredibly good at being something I wasn't. And the more time alone I had, and the truths I faced, the more I realised my entire life had been a lie.

A big fat game of being someone else.

I wasn't Lauren, Sophie, or any of the others. And I sure as hell wasn't cut out for the glitter, the pop music and the skimpy skirts that came along with them. But at the same time, I wasn't Ashley. I had become this stupid plastic wannabe, Ash.

I don't know why I thought I could get away with it.

If I were a Matryoshka doll, even the smallest one would be a form of someone else; that's as bad as my identity was. No Ashley was there; if she were, she was clinging on by a thread screaming inside a locked box to let her out. To let her breathe. To let her be free.

"What's happened?" Mum said, concerned, putting the pile of washing down on her bed before wrapping her arms around me.

I cried into her shoulder before I managed any words, embracing her hug, which didn't often happen. I never really confided in her much, not like I should have, but she never asked and was always too busy nagging at me.

"My friends are shit," I mumbled. "I slipped over this morning and became the joke of the day. Lauren, Katie, Hannah, and Sophie all stood there, laughing at me with everyone else."

Her arms tightened, and her hand slid up and down my hair. "Oh, sweetie, I have told you numerous times you should make better friends. You have never really fitted in with them."

"I know." I sniffled. "But I don't have anyone else."

Mum tutted, stepped back, kept her grip on my arms and looked at me. "You have the new football girls, and they seem nice. You can put today behind you and enjoy your sleepover with them; that's something new and exciting."

When I asked Mum and Dad about Alex's sleepover, I didn't think they would let me go, and when they said yes, I didn't know whether to believe them or slap myself around the face to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I couldn't remember the last time I was allowed out socially. It had been years, and I didn't ask why the sudden change in heart or risk them changing their minds.

"I guess so," I muttered.

"Before you know it, high school will be over. You have the prom to look forward to and then the summer away from them," Mum said, reassuring me as she tucked my hair behind my ears.

"I'm not going to prom. I told you that." There was no way I was going. For one, I wouldn't have a date, and no one would ask me. Two, I would look horrid in a dress, and three, I had no reason to celebrate my years at high school.

"Oh, well, there is always time to change your mind," she tried. "Anyway, have you met the boy next door yet? His mum said she had got him in for some activity days before summer."

"Erm, why?" I said, wiping my eyes dry.

"Well, your dad and I are going out tonight with his parents."

"Oh, Mum, not more babysitting," I huffed. "I'm not in the mood."

"This time will be different," she paused as I furrowed my eyebrows. "Olly is coming round with his younger brother Nate so he can play with Zoe."

"Oh, god, no," I blurted out, horrified.

"What? We thought you could babysit together."

"I doubt that's how Olly would want to spend his Friday night; he has a life," I said.

"Well, his mum said he was okay with it."

I swallowed my surprise discreetly and peered out the window to his house. "It doesn't sound like I have much say in the matter," I said, mulling over ways the evening could go in my head. "I suppose it won't be too bad. Olly is alright."

"So you have met him?"

I looked up at Mum with a small smile and said, "Yes, I have," then left the room, leaving her pondering.

Despite Mum's constant efforts to rid me of social life and banish my chance of ever having a boyfriend, I was to spend the night with Olly. If she knew how the boy next door had me utterly smitten, she might have been more cautious about the idea. But since I had a non-existent love life, I think Dad was the only one who worried about that, and with the way my body trembled around Olly, he had every right.

I walked straight to my window and peered into his garden, where he often practised his football skills, but he wasn't there. I didn't know if he knew how much I stood watching, but if he did, he had never said anything about it, so I wasn't going to stop. He had become my new favourite programme, and I could watch him all day. He was that addictive.

My eyes roamed to his bedroom window, and there he was. My heart burst and my face warmed. "No way," I gasped, planting my hand on my mouth as I watched him strip his shirt off before glancing away. My body, however, had the opposite idea as my stare drew right back to him. My glance widened, and I was suddenly the new curtain twitcher of the street, unable to break away from the perfect image of the boy next door just a few yards away.

The sight of a semi-naked boy was something I had never seen before. His trim, athletic, sun-kissed body took my breath away and had my knees weakening beneath me.

Olly was perfect, even much more so than I imagined, and there were no words better to describe him.