The Girl Next Door - Ellenor Percival

CHAPTER ONE

PROLOGUE: HEY STRANGER

Is there a guide on how to react when a stranger tells you they don't know whether you're going to live or not? Or at least a step-by-step guide. Because I'm not convinced my reaction by laughing is normal? I don't know. I mean, only me. How else was I supposed to react. . . don't answer that, there are thousands of other sane reactions I could have performed. Performed? Oh, here we go again.

About two years ago, I was sent to hospital with food poisoning and left with a brain tumour which has bled multiple times. It wasn't a nice outing, to say the least, I understand my easy breezy way of going around the situation isn't exactly ideal or the prescribed way to heal. But it works, making this situation this one huge prank on me is so much nicer than the reality. This isn't some life lesson the universe spun up to develop me as a person. All I've learnt is that a past version of me must have done something fucked up for me to have deserved this.

"Have you met the Fowler's yet?" My mum speaks with a mouth full of calzone. Oh and look we are back to the present. We've been getting better at communicating recently so in an attempt to peek into my brain she started binge-watching parks and recreation, forming a crush on Ben Wyatt, hence the calzones. Today, It's been exactly two years since I had my first encounter with Brian. Both my enemy and sometimes my friend. The tumour that is thankfully benign and stable yet the bane of my very existence. It's not as raw as it used to be but admittedly only my inner circle knows what went on in those months. I would choose ignorance and hatred to be passed in my direction rather than pity every single time.

"Nope not yet, I was planning on going over later with a cake or something."

"Very formal of you Flo."

"It feels right, our street is the place where everyone's close-knit, I don't want them to feel on the outskirts."

I'll do a quick summary of the chaos which is the brambles, mainly the 4 families which are practically one at this point. The Brambles was the lot's original name, now it goes by Red Harbour Avenue. We have the Spencers, my mum and dad, Claire and David and me, Fleur.

"Something smells lovely" my dad greets us with a bright smile and kisses my mum on the cheek.

"Mums made calzones."

"Because of Wyatt?" my dad says dramatically.

"Because of Ben Wyatt." I smirk.

My mum and dad have been together since they were sixteen, which definitely doesn't make me feel inferior when I've been painfully single for my entire 18 years of existence.

At 28 married with a baby on the way they moved onto the beloved Red Harbour, a new lot with 30 new builds, that's when they met The Parkers. Victoria and Paul moved in with their 3-year-old daughter Naomi with another baby on the way, Dylan. Dylan and I are the type of friends where there's never been a time where we haven't been each-other main confidant. Don't get excited, this isn't a girl next door type of love story, Dylan and I are strictly platonic and his sister Naomi is practically my older sister too. Naomi came out when she was 15, she's 21 now making her three years older than me. She was the first I confided in about having crushes on both girls and boys. The conversation topic was intimidating, I was only 14 and she was the first person I ever told. I was crying until I mentioned how I had a crush on Amy Pond and Matt Smith as The Doctor, that's when we started laughing and the sad, scared tears became tears of joy. She understood me and I understood her.

Moving on, So we have me at number 18 and the Parkers at number 20 to our right. Then we met the kemp's at number 35, they live directly across from us. Maya and Elliott Kemp again with a baby on the way Tyler. 8 years later Maya had Lowen who's only 10 but wise beyond her years. Last week I caught her hanging around my bookshelf browsing, which is scary because it's mostly smut and I don't want to be responsible for corrupting the next generation.

Finally, we have the Barlows who live opposite Tyler at number 37. Ruby and Sophie Barlow moved in with a year-old baby boy named Oliver, he is not a baby anymore, he practically towers over all of us after his growth spurt in year 10. After a couple of years of struggling to conceive again, Sophie finally got pregnant with twins the same year Maya got pregnant with Lowen so it felt like fate. That's when twins Ivy and Tom completed our crazy dysfunctional family. Despite not being tied by blood, we all practically live together and are burned into each other's DNA, we spend every Christmas together, on rotation and always go on a big summer trip at the end of the school year. Yes, we are the annoying hoard of chatty people you despise on planes, and unfortunately, I can't do anything to rectify the fact I love my friends even though they always clap when the plane lands. They piss me off but I think sometimes my love for them could end me, I would arguably do anything for my family. You name it, I'll do it. We haven't had any new people to add to our clan, Well up until today.

The Fowler's purchased number 16, the house to our left early this week and I haven't got a chance to meet any of them yet. Truthfully I'm nervous, my friends and I had the luxury of never having to introduce ourselves to each other. We have always been us and our alliance. But despite my fear I walked towards the door of my new neighbours later that evening. I'm not sure how the new neighbour scenario is supposed to go, my only experience is on Sims 4 when the neighbours come round with cake, but I opted out of gifting my new neighbour's subpar fruit cake. Thanks to Dylan who conventionally works at the local Tesco, the staff discount landed me with a free vegan victoria sponge. It goes out of date today and they may not even be vegan, but it's the thought that counts. After knocking, the owner comes to the door surprisingly quick. I can see the tint of short strawberry red hair through the window. Sponge in my hands and a bright smile on my face. I get ready to greet my new neighbour. Though I am wearing a "reading is sexy" oversized white top that my mum got me for christmas and short dungarees hanging from my shoulders. my hair is tied loosely on top of my head, but some of it has already fallen out because of the new length of my hair. My smile drops quickly as I'm greeted with a set of familiar piercing blue and green eyes and freckled nose, Lottie Simmons.

And from the way she's looking at me she isn't excited to see me. My outfit choice and appearance is something I'm now extremely aware of. Her eyes are currently shooting daggers, whilst she's assessing every inch of me to conclude whether I am actually in front of her. I began to grieve the old version of myself a long time ago, and now I'm standing in front of another reminder of the person I used to be. Then she pounced on me, we've never been violent, more often ruining the other with insults. As with any friendly rivalry ours was equipped with a mutual understanding we would do anything to crush the other. Yeah, no I'm lying again, I'll clarify. Our rivalry was far from friendly. No lying can take place in this space. I can't help it, I figured if I can't lie about going to parties or mysterious love interests, plural, on rotation, then I might as well use my unearned skill of being able to lie my way out of anything for some use. I have nothing to prove, and nobody to protect. Let's try this again, Our rivalry is what was my primal motivation to do well in school for the 3 years of classes we spent going throat to throat. And possibly scarring and scaring our amazing English teacher in the process. I think if we were the last remaining people on earth, the possibility of Earth's revival would be completely screwed. I've never met anyone as stubborn as me until I met the monster, Lottie Simmons. Although the last time I was eye level with this spawn of satan there was a tiny, when I mean minuscule, hint of a possible future civil companionship. Yeah, no I'm lying again. She was nice to me on one occasion and My brain got all excited and I technically bore my soul to her that day, well except by giving her the whole "medically I'm fucked" talk. So being face to face with that very person after a year of radio silence, it's overstimulating, to say the least. She does something unexpected. She wraps her hands tightly around my back and presses her right cheek into my chest. What has happened since I saw her a year ago, and what happened to Lottie Simmons.

Oh hell, this isn't good.