Sparrows | HS |

Buckets

My arms were tired. After three hours at the climbing gym, I was just about ready to pass out right on top of my duvet. The gym was one of the only two places I really felt like myself, the other being my living space. Currently, I was at a small one-bedroom in Seattle, not close to my family but near my college friends. Starting my third year at Seattle University was starting off at a piece of cake, my classes were fascinating and my art was thriving.

My new apartment wasn't lavish, that much I can admit. My supplies were everywhere and the space was small. When it comes to housing, I'm really not that picky, there's only one thing I'm specific about. Pets. They must let me bring my pets. By pets, I really mean my dog. When you finally meet the love of your life, you're willing to do anything to keep them near you. This is exactly how I feel about Buckets. He's small, cute, and protective, I wouldn't want him any other way.

Someone on my floor did not share my enthusiasm. At least that's what I was picking up from the numerous amount of notes being slipped under my door while I'm at work. You would think after the first five notes, they would have felt as though they got their point across, right? Not according to the pile of 20 small squares stacking up on my desk.

I rolled my eyes as I picked up another paper from under the front door, not paying much attention to the "SERIOUSLY?" scribbled wildly across the front before tossing it onto the desk in the other room. My dog doesn't do anything, really. I have a theory that my neighbor solely doesn't appreciate the sad noises he makes when he misses me while I'm at work or in class. He doesn't cry, more so whine. It's the purest thing in the world.

I was not aware of who was sending the aggressive notes to me nearly every day so far this month but I assumed that it had to be someone new to the floor and close enough to hear said whining while I was away. It's not as if I know any of my neighbors enough to even contemplate a possible suspect, they stay away from me and I do the same to them. I wasn't looking for companions in them anyways so the distance never bothered me.

I rolled my eyes at the thought of the small old man down the hall sending the aggressive and sometimes threatening notes before plopping down on my couch in front of the tv. Before I could even consider comfort, I heard a knock on the door most likely from the only person that ever comes over. My best friend, Vanessa. Buckets barked at the door once, used to Vanessa coming over enough to assume it was her. Immediately after knocking, she unlocks the door and walks in. She has a key but she knocks just in case I'm "doing anything that she wouldn't do" which isn't much in the long run. There isn't anything wrong with my best friend's promiscuous ways, in fact it makes for some of the best stories I have to tell. Nights of confiscating her phone so she doesn't dial an ex or pulling her off a table at the third bar we've been to that night. Her and I balance each other out,  I've been told that I'm a little too safe. I prefer to stay in and watch a movie over hitting the clubs but Vanessa is willing to do either depending on whether or not I want to go. That is really all I'm looking for in a best friend.

"That pile seems to stacking up. Any suspects? I'm still pushing for Dr. Standred in 3G." She smirked, picking up the most recent note from my otherwise clean desk.

"Should I be concerned that you actually know the names of my neighbors that I haven't even met?"

She rolled her eyes at me before jumping over the couch and landing right next to me, "It's not my fault that you walk hoodie up to your door every time you return to your place. Speaking of hoodies, I saw your hot neighbor coming back from a run just now. Have you seen him yet? He's just over in 3A and he is so-"

"Please, Vanessa, I do not need to hear another swooning over the stranger next door. But no, I haven't met him yet. I've been here for months and I haven't really met anyone in the building. I don't particularly plan to," I added with a shrug.