From the Window

chapter 1

I first saw him last Friday. He was helping his parents unpack the moving van in front of the house next door. I watched from my bedroom window as best as I could. My window faced one of the bedroom windows of his family's new home, but if I sat at the right angle I could catch a glimpse of the front lawn.

Instantly, I knew he was bound to fall into the 'clique'. For one, he wasn't unattractive. He had brown messy curls that seemed to fall perfectly into place and the brightest smile I had ever seen on a boy. The way he carried himself just screamed 'I know I'm hot'. Although I didn't know him, I just knew that there was something that would draw them all in. It was drawing me in, but I knew better than that.

Ever since I started high school, I was alone. All of my friends from middle school went to the neighboring school and I couldn't join because I didn't have a way of getting there. The school was across town and my older siblings were going to Liberty High School. It sucked at first not knowing anyone in my classes, but I had Rowan and Brighton and their friends. I would mind my business in class; not speak to really anyone, and then at lunch I would hang out with my older friends. By the time they graduated, I had gotten used to staying quiet in class and essentially being the loner.

Being the loner girl that sits in the back of class comes with some pros, but a lot of cons. For whatever reason, everyone just had to sit and judge. Sure, I did make some snarky remarks, but sarcasm exists for a reason. And it's not my fault if someone does something stupid and I just so happen to roll my eyes.

Charlie didn't help.

Charolette was a total blonde bimbo slut who just had to make my life a living hell. Now, I'm not judging anyone for being an airhead and sleeping around. Not everyone is the brightest when it comes to academics and it's none of my business who people decide to sleep with. When it comes to Charolette, she knows what she's doing. She puts up this facade of  'oh silly me, I didn't mean to spill my smoothie over your head'. It's fake bullshit.

When I arrived home that following Monday, I noticed that the bedroom window adjacent to my own was open. It was the first time that I could actually see into the room. The walls were painted this light gray color. I could see a desk sitting under a bulletin board which was covered with a calendar and pictures. The corner of a bed was also in view, but the one thing that intrigued me was the acoustic guitar.

This had to be his room. I hadn't learned his name yet, but there was no way that this room wasn't his. Did he play? Or was it just for show?

I really wanted to know, because maybe we could play together. I looked at my drum kit in the corner of my room. I wondered if he would be able to see it if I left my curtains pushed back. I normally did anyway. I was so used to nobody using the bedroom next to my window that I didn't see the point in keeping my curtains closed. Unless I was changing, of course.

I walked away from my window to look around my own bedroom. Because my mom was never around and I needed more space for my drum kit, she let me use the master bedroom of the house. My mom did something in business and was always traveling on the trips that no one else wanted to go on. If she was home, which was surprisingly not often, she was working late. Although I didn't see her as much as I liked, she was always there when I needed her. She wasn't a flaky parent unlike my dad. They separated when I was about 5. The twins were 7, I think.

I don't even remember the last time I saw my dad, yet he was the one to name me.

Nirvana after his favorite band.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I looked at the posters that hung near my black kit. One was a the 1975 poster, another was of the Nirvana smiley face for obvious reasons, and the last two were both Green Day. One was American Idiot and the other was Dookie. I wondered if he liked any of those bands.

Deciding that I needed to stop thinking about this boy who I had never even spoke to, I slipped off my bed and walked over to my book shelf. Staring at the books in my collection, I decided to re-read The Book Thief once again. It had to be one of my favorite books. As I slid back onto my bed, I could hear a door close in the distance. Once I had started to read, that's when I heard it.

He was playing the acoustic guitar.

I didn't recognize the song. Is it an original?

Before I realized it, the music had stopped. There was some shuffling and then the door open and closed again. Setting down my book, I moved towards my window. The bedroom was empty and the 6 string was back in its place. As I stared into the room, I was startled by a voice.

"Ana, what do you want for pizza toppings?"

Jumping a little, I looked over my shoulder. Rowan was standing in the doorway of my bedroom. He had the house phone in one hand and the Rick's Pizza menu in the other. It was always so funny to me that he still used the menu when he called in our order. Rick's already knew what we would get. This happened at least once a week. Mom would be gone and we would order a pizza.

"Uh, pepperoni and whatever else you guys want." He nodded as he turned to leave. Before he left completely, I asked, "Is it cool with you guys if I practice a bit? I don't really want to wear my headphones."

"Yeah, that's fine. Bri's not home yet and I'm just playing FIFA so you're good."

I smiled as he left. Whenever I wanted to practice, I had to either wait until I was the only one home or wear my headphones so that the sound was only in my ears. I hated wearing the headphones for too long because my ear piercings would sometimes dig into my neck.

I grabbed a pair of drumsticks from my bucket as I sit onto the stool. Making myself comfortable I start hitting my foot onto the pedal, the beat of my bass drum beginning to echo in my room. I hit the drumsticks onto my tom drum. Before I know it, I'm drumming the beat of Sugar We're goin Down.

Getting caught up in the rhythm and not being able to really hear what's going on around me, I didn't notice that he had returned to his room. I didn't notice until the echo died down and all I could hear was clapping. My hazel eyes snapped to the direction of the applause. I stared at the boy next door who watched me from his window. Although my curtains were open, I didn't realize he could hear my through the closed glass. But then again, his window was open.

He has that same bright smile on his face and for the first time I notice that he has dimples. I watch as he makes a gesture. He wants me to open the window. I peel myself off of the drum stool and walk towards the window. Once it is open, he finally speaks.

"You're really good."

"You could hear it? I thought if I closed the window you wouldn't be able to. I'm sorry if it bothered you." I felt bad. Unlike the softness of his acoustic, my drums could sometimes be a lot for people.

"No don't apologize. That was so good. Was that Sugar, We're Goin Down?"

I nod as I cross my arms over my chest. "You know Fall Out Boy?"

"Of course I know Fall Out Boy," he laughed which made me smile. He rose his hand and pointed behind me. "Nice posters by the way."

"Thanks."

"Bradley, but call me Brad. Much less formal." He smiles at me once again and holds out his hand for me to shake. At that moment, I realized how close our windows truly were.

Shaking his hand, I spoke. "Nirvana."

"Like the band?" He asks as he lets go of my hand.

My arms fall to my sides as I nod. I don't know why I always felt so awkward when this topic came up. It was probably because of my dad.

"Man, I wish my name was just as cool," he said. For some reason, it made my heart swell hearing him say that. No one had complemented my name other than people my parents' age. Looking down at his watch, Bradley looked back at me. "I hate to end it her, but I have to run. Maybe we could talk later?"

"Um, yeah, sure." I gave him a half smile. I didn't know whether to believe him or not.

He grinned once again. "Okay great, see ya later then."

And with that he was gone. I watched as he left his room. I really wanted to believe that we would continue the conversation later.