The Girl Next Door

2. The Party

It's one of those nights you know will go down in the books—Geoff's house party after we won again, and it's been like that for weeks. We've been on fire, and Geoff's riding the high. He invited half of the school, probably just to flex, but it was a good call. The music's loud, the drinks are flowing, smoke hangs in the air, and people are all over the place—dancing, playing beer pong, just letting loose. The vibe is electric.

My boys and I are chilling in the living room, talking about the game, some random stuff, and just kicking back. Geoff's over by the kitchen, holding court, while Matt and Blaine are in the corner talking strategy (because that's what they do). There's a group of freshmen dancing by the speakers, the usual crew, and the whole house is buzzing.

I'm not exactly looking for trouble tonight. I'm just here to relax. I've got the team, my friends, and this—this moment that feels like everything's in place. But then, of course, she shows up.

Melanie Hawkens. The cheerleader. Blonde, perfect smile, the type of girl you've seen a thousand times but can't help but notice every time. She's got a way of moving through a crowd that makes people stop and stare. Everyone thinks she's the girl to be seen with.

And of course, she's coming straight for me.

"Alex," she says with that smile, the one that's warm but not exactly friendly. "Can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?"

Now, don't get me wrong, I always show respect to everyone, especially girls. I'm captain of the team, so I've got a reputation to uphold. I try to be cool, keep things respectful, and avoid any drama.

But Melanie? She's asking a little too much. She leans in, her eyes locking onto mine, and the way she looks at me, I can tell this is more than just a "let's chat" kind of thing. I know what she wants, and I'm not sure I'm up for it tonight.

"Sure," I say, trying to keep it casual, like I'm not already thinking about how this is going to be awkward. We walk a little to the side, away from the crowd.

She starts with small talk, but I can tell she's not here for that. I brace myself. This conversation isn't going to be as simple as she's making it out to be.

"It's been a while since we had this moment," Melanie says, flashing that signature smile of hers.

Oh no. I feel it in my gut. I should've known this wasn't just a casual chat. This is the kind of conversation I've been avoiding, but here we are, alone in the corner of Geoff's living room, with the music thumping just loud enough that it almost drowns out everything else.

I don't say a word. I don't know what to say. I wasn't expecting this tonight—not after the game, not after everything that's been going on. I'm not looking for drama, and this definitely feels like drama.

She steps a little closer, her eyes locking onto mine, like she's trying to figure me out, reading me, maybe trying to figure out if I'll give in. But I don't move. I keep my stance neutral, not giving anything away.

"What are we, Alex? I need to know."

I don't blink, don't even let my expression change. I've been in situations like this before, but for some reason, with her, it feels different. Maybe it's the way she's looking at me, like she's trying to peel away the layers of who I am, what I'm doing here, and who I'm really into.

I shrug, trying to play it off, but inside I'm already regretting this. I'm not the guy for this kind of thing.

"We're teammates, Melanie. That's what we are," I say, hoping it comes off casual, like it's no big deal.

Her smile falters, just for a second, but she's quick to fix it. "Teammates, huh?" she repeats, as if testing the word on her tongue, trying to decide if it fits. "I mean, I get that, but... you know, I'm not just talking about the team."

And there it is. She's pushing for more, and I'm not sure I'm ready to give it to her. Maybe I should've seen this coming, but honestly, I didn't. Not from her.

I don't answer right away. I let the silence hang in the air for a moment. "Look, Melanie," I finally say, my voice low, "I'm just not in the market for anything serious right now. I've got football, school, and all this other stuff to focus on."

She nods, but there's something in her eyes that says she's not convinced. "Is that really it, Alex? Or is there something else? Someone else?"

I can feel the weight of the question. It's the kind of question that forces you to pick a side, and I'm not sure I'm ready to do that yet. Especially with her.

I let out a breath, running my hand through my hair. I knew where this was going. It was the classic "It's not you, it's me" situation, the one I'd hoped to avoid, but here we were.

"I think you get what I'm saying, Melanie," I say, trying to soften the blow but still keeping my distance. "It's not you, it's me. I'm just not in the place for... whatever this is."

For a second, she doesn't say anything. She just stands there, looking at me with those piercing eyes, probably weighing her options, deciding if she's going to be pissed or if she'll just let it slide. It's quiet for a moment, and I can practically feel the weight of the silence between us.

Finally, she gives a small nod, as if she's accepting the words but not entirely happy about it. "Well, if you're ready," she says, her voice softer than before but still full of that signature confidence, "I'll always be here. Waiting."

I feel the pit in my stomach drop. It's not that I don't get where she's coming from—it's just that I know what this is. I've been in situations like this before, and I don't want to get tangled up in something I can't control. She's too much for me—too intense, too... everything.

I don't respond right away. I just give her a tight, polite smile. "Thanks, but that's not what I need right now."

She gives me a final look, almost like she's trying to figure out if I'm serious or not. But then, just like that, she turns away and walks back toward the crowd, blending into the party again.

Too bad. She's not the one for me, and I'm not ready for the kind of mess she's offering. Some things are better left alone, and that's exactly what this is.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me as Melanie walked away. That was the kind of conversation I dreaded, but somehow, I got through it. I was about to turn back to the group, to get lost in the noise of the party and forget all about that awkwardness, when I saw her.

The girl next door.

She was standing there, a few feet away, laughing to herself—quietly, almost like she was amused by something. But what caught me off guard was the way she was looking at me. It was like she was watching me, not with judgment or pity, but with this strange mix of curiosity and... something else.

Okay.

I didn't know how to feel about it. But before I could even process it, she walked past me without a word, her presence almost like a breeze brushing by. She didn't even glance at me directly, just moved through the crowd with that same confident, unbothered air. No acknowledgment, no tease, no nothing. She just kept going, straight to the kitchen.

I stood there for a second, trying to figure out what had just happened. Why did she watch me like that? What was her deal?

It wasn't the kind of look that should've left me thinking, but it did. For the rest of the night, I couldn't shake it. Every time I caught a glimpse of her, I kept wondering what was going through her head. Maybe she was just messing with me, or maybe—just maybe—she knew something I didn't.

But one thing was for sure: she had my mind spinning, and I couldn't get rid of the thought of her.