The boy who lived next door

      It was not the right time to lose that damn book.

     About to leave my apartment to go to university and join Ian, my boyfriend, in front of the library, I realized that my history book was missing, and I really needed it on Tuesdays. Swearing about a hundred times, I dug the couch, my desk, my shelves, my bedside table... Nothing. I stopped at the middle of the room, hands on hips, my eyes fleeing to every corner of the room. I also realized at that moment that the walls of the apartment were as yellow as the corridors of the building and the staircase.

      I was pulled from my reverie by the doorbell ringing behind me. Grumbling, I trudged to the front door and opened it, hoping that it was not Ian. To my relief, it was someone else I saw on the doorstep. A young man with neither too long nor too short dark hair, stood before me, smiling uneasily.

“Good morning, sorry for bothering you, but I've just moved to this floor and I'm afraid I have shorted the current. Do you mind if I check that it doesn't affect your apartment?”

      I could distinguish his features a little more clearly. The dominant feature of his face was his long nose. His nose was not very wide, but long and slightly curved. His stunning blue eyes made me look away from his prominent nose. He looked almost ridiculous, because under the latter there was his small mouth, all thin.

     I stepped aside, muttering only “No, no, come in.” He thanked me and slipped inside my apartment. He played with several switches and unplugged my turntable before reconnecting.

“Damn, I cut everything... I'm sorry, I will go and see the caretaker, and I will call the owner and the electrician afterwards.”

“Oh, it's not worth it, it happens quite often. The electricity likes playing tricks on us here.”

“I still will. By the way, I'm Pete. Pete Townshend.”

“Nice to meet you, I'm Michelle.”

“The feeling is mutual. Are you French? It sounds like your accent is too.”

“I lived in France until I was eighteen. I arrived two years ago.”

“Is your last name French too?”

“Plzen. Very French, indeed!”

“Oh, you disappoint me.”

      I giggled and did not say a word. Pete broke the silence, a serious expression on his face.

“Do you know who I am?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you know anything about my... 'job'?”

“No..?”

“Good. Very good.”

      He gave a nervous laugh before the silence settled again. He scratched his head and then, as if an insect had stung him, he said:

“I'm... I'm leaving you alone.”

“I have to go out, anyway. Bu I need my History book first, I can't find it.”

      He nodded and instinctively had a look on his right. He stepped towards the table and took out something from it before handing it to me. My History book. I shyly looked up and thanked him in a hushed voice. He smiled at me, he had to laugh at myself internally. I picked up my stuff lying on the worn wooden floor, took my keys and went with Pete on the doorstep. I closed the door behind me before I turned to my new neighbour.

“Well, it was nice meeting you Pete. Welcome to the rabbit hole! If you need anything, just ask, I'll try my best to help you.”

“Thank you, Michelle. It's nice from you. I will soon be celebrating my arrival, this weekend normally, so if you want to come and have a drink or simply to party, you're welcome. I live at 221.”