Ah.
Nothing I love more than being alone on a Friday night, with the exception of my two boyfriends Ben and Jerry, watching Netflix and being smothered in blankets.
Aesthetically pleasing blankets, of course.
What fake Tumblr user would I be otherwise?
I mean, I'm also staring at photos of Francisco Lachowski as well, so yanno.
Gotta love Lachowski.
Ethan, my twin bro, is out, as usual. He's popular and is always out on Fridays, normally at parties. He always invites me, but being the introvert I am, kindly refuse, as I have plans.
Doing what, you may ask? Sitting here, doing what I'm doing.
I take another lick of the spoon, half watching Netflix and half looking at my phone, when I hear a loud bang.
I jump, and ice-cream falls onto my top.
I'm about to lick it off (if you say I'm gross, at least I'm not wasteful) when I hear a voice. Multiple voices actually.
I look up from my screens, take my blankets, pad across my room and peer out my window.
Dang.
Neighbours.
A woman with dark brown hair, scraped back into a ponytail climbs out the black Range Rover, with a toddler on her arm.
The toddler has similarly dark hair, but in tiny braids. She's very cute.
A boy steps out, and I catch my breath.
Ladies and gents, boys and girls, this is the finest boy I have ever seen in my sixteen years of being on this earth. And trust me, I've seen a fair few.
Perks of having a popular brother.
He has light, floppy, brown hair. It is currently in a curly fringe, covering his eyes. I presume as it's chucking it down his hair returned to it's natural texture. I love a boy with curly hair.
He has slightly olive skin, an incredible face, with cheekbones and a jawline carved like no other. His light grey shirt hints at gorgeous muscles.
This boy will go down well at school.
Trust me.
And he looks my age.
He glances round, taking in his surroundings, then his eyes stop at my window.
It's late out and my room will be lit because the fairy lights will be the main source of light.
He smirks when he sees me staring, so I blush.
What am I doing, I never blush.
He raises a hand and winks, so I spin on my heels and run to the comfort of my bed. I throw a quick text to my bestie, Tyla.
Me: HOT NEIGHBOUR ALERT AM HOME ALONE COME QUICK
Within seconds, she replies.
Tyla: coming, be there in five. eat all the ice-cream again and I will personally kill you
Me: don't worry, there's some left
Tyla: good, keep it that way
***
Five minutes later, Tyla runs upstairs to my room. She has her own key, so I never let her in. Haven't done since about seventh grade.
"What's he like?" she says, collapsing on my bed, her long brown hair flowing freely.
YOU ARE READING
Tables, Phoebe, Cute Neighbours And Other Things I Love
Novela JuvenilAoife's fed up of many things. Her name, for starters, it's Irish and nearly no-one knows how to spell or pronounce it. Ever. Secondly, her twin brother Ethan, for having a well-known name for spelling and pronouncing. Thirdly, her younger sister Ph...
