Neighbor Calum

Chapter 1

I watch from my porch as the moving truck pulls up to the house next door. I've already decided beforehand when the big sold sign went up that I'd hate the new neighbors. No matter how nice they were nothing could possibly beat having your best friend just one house down from you. Obviously I knew someone was bound to move in and maybe it wasn't necessarily the new peoples fault that my best friend's dad had gotten a better job in the next state over but it sure was a lot easier to blame them.

I try not to watch. Distracting myself with my dog, throwing him his favorite toy. Every time he brings it back in a continuous game of fetch until he seems to get distracted himself then I have to look. My dog running over to an over-excited teenage boy.

The boy clad in a ripped t-shirt and black skinny jeans immediately sits on the ground, my dog happily licking his face as he pets him. And because I promised myself I wasn't going to like these peope, even if the teenage boy petting my dog looks absolutely adorable right now, I stand to my feet calling my dog over and only briefly catching the new boy's eye.

-

I wake to the sound of music blaring from across the way. I'm almost ready to shout about the stupid neighbors and why the hell they were playing music so goddamn loud so goddamn early - late? as the time says a little past 3am - but something stops me in my tracks. I know the song. It's my song. One I've heard so many times my best friend once jokingly said it's probably running through my veins now.

And that's not fair because now how are I supposed to be mad when it's my song?

I get up, wrapping my blanket tightly around me and go over to sit at my window seat. His shades are open, giving me a view of the boy sprawled out across the floor in no better state than me. Meaning he's in sweats and a tee, hair an absolute mess with his window wide open, music flowing freely through the chilly early morning.

I opt on opening up my window as well to get a better listen, my curtains managing to block me from sight. However he happens to glance my way the exact moment my window decides to be unnecessarily loud with a creak for the first time ever. I'm quick to shut the curtains back up, his eyes darting back toward the door when a woman - probably his mother, calls out what I assume is his name.

The music stops shortly after and I can just barely make out his under-the-breath grumbling in the quiet before his windows being closed and the shades are being drawn.

I just pray that he hadn't seen me or is too sleepy to piece together what I was doing.

-

I go about my life, learning my lesson and ignoring a few of my favorite bands blasting from the neighbor's house and the absolutely rowdy bunch of boys that always seem to be out in the yard. I don't even bother to come down to meet the family once they've settled and want to introduce themselves as polite neighbors do.

Somewhere in me, I know I'm being incredibly rude and unfair and I'm sure if I'd just talk to the boy that was my age, according to my mom, that we'd get along quite nicely. Still, I swore I was going to hate these people so that's exactly what I was going to do. No matter how many times I hear the boy in the bedroom across from mine singing along to one of my favorite songs.

-

I don't actually talk to the boy until nearly two months after they've moved in. I'm just getting home from being out all day, he and his friends making their way into his own house. Because I've been trying my hardest to ignore them all, I've only ever heard them and though it's a bit dark out I can see the tall lot and god-of course they were all attractive because one just wasn't enough.

The only brown eyed boy in the group smiles at me and sends me a wave with a polite hi and because I'm me and all four cute boys are stood staring, I panic a bit and just end up grumbling an annoyed, "Can you not play your music so loud?"

Even if I secretly kind of liked it being loud. It was almost like he knew I liked the same music and in a way we were listening to it together. I especially liked the days he'd play something new because those days it'd play louder as he familiarized himself with the song and I could just picture him sprawled across his flo-

"Sorry, we'll keep it down," he replies sweetly even if the other boys are in a cross between snickering and giggling.

I nod and hurry inside cursing myself because that was my first impression and now he thinks I don't like hearing his music - not that I care - and they'll all probably have a laugh at the loser neighbor girl who asks people to keep it down like some sort of annoying old person.

-

The next time I see my neighbor is when I'm out in my backyard for no particular reason other than it being a nice day out and being completely bored. I'm laid out on the grass, earphones in and shades on when my dog gets up, tail already wagging like crazy as he starts barking toward the little fence separating our yard from the neighbor's.

I peek over and catch sight of the dark haired boy whose name I now know is Calum with all the times I've heard various people calling or talking to him but still, I refuse to even call him by his name; he took my best friend's house after all.

From what I can see he's got a tank top on and a soccer ball in his hand which he drops to pet my dog, settling him down a bit. Shaking my head, I look back up at the sky. I was out here first, he should have to be the one to go back outside is what I tell myself is the reasoning for me staying laid out on the grass.

After a few restless minutes I can't help it, I have to look. My musics been on pause since he's been out, playing his own music that I'm sure would have eventually played through my headphones.

He's not wearing a shirt anymore, his tan skin glistening with a single coat of sweat and wow I should have never looked because now I can't seem to look away. He's kicking the ball around and doing various tricks and crannies you'd see from a professional soccer player.

The staring isn't really a problem except for when the ball goes over the fence and he inevitably catches me, a small smirk playing at his lips. I'm not really sure what to do so I just sort of sit there, staring between the ball and the boy.

"Could you uh.." he trails off gesturing to the soccer ball a few inches to my right.

"Right," I shake my head, getting to my feet and tossing the ball back over to him.

"Thanks," he sends me a nod and smile with wary eyes. I nod in acknowledgement and go back over to my spot on the grass. Not even a few minutes later the music is gone and his back door is sliding shut.

And - great, now I've added creep to my ongoing list of impressions...not that it mattered.