Right Next Door

Chapter Three

        I'm glad that he's gone. No, really, I am. He's out of my hair, probably for good. And it's a relief. If we'd started interracting again we'd probably feel obligated to become friends again. And we're just too different. One can tell how different we are just by our appearances. 

        So I go back downstairs and dump the cups of coffee down the sink and head back to my room. My head hits the pillow almost immediately. I hadn't even realized how tired I was. But now that I'm in bed, it's extremely apparent and it's all I can think about. That and the sudden uncomfort of my pillow. Something crinkles beneath my head when I move. I cringe and turn on my lamp. I look down and see a piece of paper on my pillow. There's writing on it. I pick it up and hold it up to the light to better see it. 

                        Hey Sloan, 

                                       Thanks for helping me out tonight. Just like old times, huh? 

                                        Maybe I'll see you around. 

                                                        --- Axel 

        I smile, fold up the note, and tuck it into the book on my bedside table, not knowing what else to do with it. For some reason, I can't bring myself to toss it in the trash. Yesteday, if I'd found this note on my pillow, I would've thrown it out without a thought. But tonight, something felt different. It felt like things had shifted. I'm not even sure what I mean, what I'm trying to say. But it felt like maybe, just maybe, we could be friends agan. Not back to normal or anything, but close. 

        

~ ~ ~ 

        I wake to the sound of a sea gull calling right outside my window. This is unacceptable. I'm not even that close to the beach. Two miles, at least. I groan and chuck a small pillow at my window, hoping that even the shadow of the action will frighten the bird away. I roll over and check my clock. It's eleven now. I have to be at work in two hours. So I haul my ass out of bed and trek down to the kitchen. 

        The house is quiet. And I know before I even see the note that my dad has left for work. 

                                                left for work. probably won't be back for dinner. 

                                                        love you! -dad 

        I roll my eyes. It's not that I'm peeved about the fact that my dad wasn't going to be home all day. Again. Because I wasn't either. I'd be at work until at least six. The thing that annoyed me was the fact that my father apparently had the incapability of using capital letters in the notes that he left me. Would it really be so difficult to write an capital "L" instead of a lowercase one. I snatch the note off the fridge, crumple it up, and throw it away. This is a note that doesn't matter. It doesn't tell me anyhing that I didn't already know. 

        At twenty to one, I pull out of the driveway and drive over to the bookstore where I work. Usually, I'm the only one working. The owner, Miranda, is always there but she stays locked in her office, working on her novel. Though she's been working on it for seven years, according to my coworker, Tye. 

        I push open the door to the shop and the bells goes off. Murphy, the fluffy grey cat that the owner keeps in the store, comes rushing out from the back to greet me. I scratch him behind the ear and then make my way to the counter. I don't even bother telling Miranda that I'm here. She'll figure it out soon enough. I make myself comfortable behind the counter on the very well cushioned stool that Miranda has stationed there. To pass the time, I open up my Biology text book and start in on my homework. I don't expect any costumers to come in any time soon so I'm thinking that I'll be able to get a lot done. Murphy curls up on the counter next to my book and it's hours later until either of us moves.