I watched him from afar, hidden in his neatly trimmed bushes as he worked in the hot, afternoon sun. The drool collecting in my mouth threatened to spill as his glistening muscles, slickened with sweat, flexed while pushing the lawn mower back and forth on his already lush green lawn. I sighed as I sat back on my heels; my neighbor was going to be the death of me. He had just moved in a few months ago and already the run down house that was ready to collapse, due to neglect, was back on its feet and ready to take on the title of this year's curb appeal. Somehow this man who was barely in his twenties was able to bring this house back alive, and that was the reason why I was first drawn to him.
The fourth house of Connolly Street was the famed 'Stone House'. Annual high school Halloween parties would be held here despite the obvious 'Keep Out', 'Trespassing' signs staked in the front of the dead and overgrown lawn. During the rest of the year, kids would sneak into the abandoned stone home to drink one or two beers and gossip about school and life. It was the known hang out spot for teens in the area, loads of virginities were lost in that building, legends were created in that building, dramas were started in that building, basically everything began or was done in that building. That building, Stone House, has been sitting there, abandoned, for as long as I could remember and now some youngster, who probably just got out of college, bought the house – much to the disappointment of the teen community – and now barely anyone can recognize this place.
When I first heard the news that the house was finally bought and that the owner had moved in, I was quite disappointed. I was one of those kids who took advantage of the house situation. My friends and I have gotten drunk in that stone rubble ever since we first got our hands on beer, and now, our spot of memories can no longer be a spot of memories. Afterwards I laid low and kept away from the house just because of that sense of paranoia that the owner would know what I had taken apart of in that place. The only reason why I actually did finally check it out was because of the rumors that were beginning to spread in school, mostly it was the girls who talked about it but rumors are rumors and they find their way to everybody. One of my friends told me that apparently the person who bought the house wasn't some crony old lady who yelled at kids whilst waving her cane in the air for fun. Instead it was a super young guy who looks fresh out of college and was supposedly looking for a job as a teacher. I was psyched, are you kidding me? A young guy, most likely hot, who was looking for a job as a teacher? My dream! And so one-day after school I threw on a jacket and took out my skateboard for a long needed ride after the painful withdrawal from the Stone House.
The place was unrecognizable; the stone was cleaned up and actually visible from the curb. All the weeds have been pulled and the vines that were hiding the house were gone, windows were put in and the door was freshly painted a bright red. The house just got a makeover, that's what, and I was breathless. For some reason I felt proud, don't get me wrong, I have some sort of attachment to this thing. I got drunk for the first time in that stone pile for goodness sake! And there I was, just standing there, dumbstruck on the sidewalk, skateboard propped in one hand, my phone in the other. Taking in this unfamiliar view that somehow was very pleasing to the eyes, more so than the get away it used to be. Then I saw him, and I dashed behind a bush just because; I don't really know why, I just did. He was beautiful, even though he was wearing a jacket like me, and a pair of loose fitting jeans, I could tell he was breathtaking. His hair was covered with a baseball cap but his face I could see perfectly well. His sharp jawline and cut cheekbones, those wonderful shaded eyes under perfectly sculpted brow bones. I mean, damn, he'd better interview for a job as a teacher, I wanted to get more of that! That, that's just some eye candy right there and I could use some of that in school. After that one incident, I found myself visiting the Stone House more often as summer came on and the kids were unleashed into the hot weather. And so that is why I am sitting here now, watching my neighbor mow his lawn shirtless hiding behind the very same bushes I first dove behind when I first saw him. I think that's called dedication.
