Philophobic : Tyler Galpin

1: Normie Neighbor

Friday, October 12th

[victoria's pov]

I'm finally on my own–it's just what I wanted all along.

Well, living on my own at least. At the ripe age of seventeen, I was promised privacy from my mother in exchange for excellent academic records. Though, the house isn't signed under my name. It's signed under my mother–Larissa Weems.

Technically, she's my adopted mother. When I was an infant, she adopted me from a peculiar orphanage located on a little island. She chose tediously, yet I wasn't really the outcome she desired.

Don't get me wrong–my mother may say she loves me but considering the fact that she's the principal of a school for outcasts, I'm sure I don't blend in so easily. Like a goldfish among angelfish, a star among constellations, or a waffle versus a pancake.

I couldn't be any more of a normie like your next door neighbor. My mother's tried everything to try to unlock my "abilities." But there's simply nothing peculiar about me. Maybe I was wired wrong, or everyone else wrong and I'm right.

Even though mommy Weems has never laid a hand on me–Even though I've achieved my academic achievements to the best of my ability, there was a sliver of something there. Disappointment.

I could tell (and not because of her face even though she's a shapeshifter) but because of her negligence.

My new house was a symbol of protection and security she had never been able to truly give me. I guess you can say I win there, but love isn't a competition of notions.

I was unpacking the rest of my belongings while music played from my phone. Since I moved in at the beginning of the school term, I didn't have much time to unpack–let alone even greet the neighbors. I only had to finish the kitchen and then the small foyer. There wasn't much need for a kitchen since I spent half my time at Nevermore, but I've been meaning to learn how to cook since I'm now living on my own.

A knock at the door caught my attention as I paused my music. I wondered if it was my mother, but she usually gave me a heads-up beforehand. She even suggested for me to get a security system, but it's Jericho, Vermont. Nothing happens in Jericho.

I opened my door, unsure what to expect. But I came face to face (well, face to chest) with a young man, probably my age. He had curly bronze hair and a nervous smile on his face. His eyes looked green. No- brown. It was a mix of chai tea.

Another random thing, I love tea.

"Oh- uh," the boy said, trying to remember why he was standing on my porch.

I peered my eyes slightly. He seemed familiar. I've lived in Jericho all my life, but I liked to remain invisible. I didn't quite fit in with normies either.

"I'm looking for a thin gray cat," the boy began. "My- our neighbor, Mr. Filch lost his cat again... he's kind of a loon though. His cat died two years ago... but he insisted for me to come check anyway."

I stared at him, unsure what to say.

"I'm Tyler," he said awkwardly and caressed the back of his neck.

Tyler.

Tyler Galpin, of course.

As far as I knew, he's the son of the sheriff. A very strict sheriff at that—almost the exact opposite from my mother.

I didn't know Tyler that well, but I remembered seeing him occasionally at the Harvest festival with his dad but that was years ago. He—we were no longer children.

"Does he recognize me?" I wondered. "But what of it? It's not important whether he remembers me or not."

"Is- uh, is anyone else home?"

"That's the question that starts the plot of every homicide movie," I stated plainly with suspicious eyes. But as I eyed him up and down, the less threatening he became. "I live alone. What did you really come here for?"

Tyler nodded and seemed glad about my sarcastic demeanor. "Well, you see..."

I raised a brow at his hesitation. He eventually broke and admitted the truth.

"My dad was curious about who moved in," Tyler admitted sheepishly. "You know, being sheriff and all, he thought it was suspicious how vacant the house looked."

"I assume your father already discovered the house is under someone else's name," I noted, stating the obvious.

Tyler shrugged.

"Yeah, he told me the house belongs to the principal of Nevermore," Tyler explained. "Although, you don't look anything like her... can I ask what your relationship is with her?"

I guess he didn't recognize me. Despite our silly little history.

"You're quite the detective yourself, aren't you?" I asked him, ignoring his question.

"I don't mean to be nosey," Tyler realized.

"You're pretty good at it," I said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear me.

Rather than getting upset, he grinned slightly. "I'll take it as a compliment."

"It wasn't one."

"Thanks anyway."

He stood there for a few minutes before placing his hands in his pocket with a thin smile. "Well uh- welcome to the neighborhood then, normie."

I stared at him up and down slightly, observing his every move. He was quite the casual and sarcastic one—especially considering the fact that I thought all normies were cruel. And he was horrible at reading the room. That, or he was just ignoring the signs of my lack of interest.

He turned back once but didn't wave. Only a polite smile appeared on his face as he turned back and returned to his garage.

I shut my door. Maybe mother was right.

I do need an alarm system since this neighborhood is full of odd normies.

- - - ✦ - - -