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I walked back to my apartment, resting the towel on my shoulder.

"Do you need me to take that?" A voice rang from the end of the hall.

I swiftly turned around to be eye to eye to Dan.

"Oh hey, Dan. Um, I mean you don't need to. I don't want you to go all the way back to the pool to put it away." I said flinging my black brown hair over my shoulder.

"No, no. I can just put it in my laundry." He pointed down the hall, towards the apartment doors.

I sighed, "Sure." I took the towel off my body and handed it to him.

"Thank you. See you later, wait. What is your name?"

"Francesca Adams."

"Ok," he thought for a second,"Frankie. I'll talk to you later." He smiled shyly.

"Frankie? Really?"

"Yep." He giggled, smiling.

"Okay, fine. Dan Towel."

"Good God. Bye." He laughed and walked past me, heading for his room.

I turned away, heading to my room when my thoughts were interrupted by his British accent.

"Oh and um, Frankie?"

"Yeah?" I said, my eyes set on the key of my door since I was having trouble opening it.

"I would appreciate you to not bang on my walls."

My eyes went wide as I saw his foot slip through the door frame of Apartment Thirty-Nine.

Apartment Thirty-Nine ~d.j.h~Where stories live. Discover now