Across the Hall

Chapter 8: Bachelor Pad

I walked inside Harry's apartment and my jaw dropped.

His apartment was the polar opposite of the one I was living in at the moment. It looked like he knocked down the walls except for one closed off room, which I assumed was the bathroom.

The style of his apartment was very modern. He had black wooden flooring which was partially covered by the cleanest white rug I have ever seen. His kitchen was to the left when you stepped in and had a long dining table with two chairs at each end. Straight ahead, I noticed the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the farthest wall. In front of those was a gigantic flat-screen TV with an even bigger white couch in front of it. To the left of the TV was a large bookcase and a chair for reading and looking out at the beautiful view of New York City which the windows provided.

The closed off room was to the right, and closer to the windows was another wall which served as a divider to the living room and his bedroom. On the partition there was a painting of a naked woman. Her back was to the painter and she appeared to be walking away, her hair flowing freely down her back. I looked at it one more time to confirm my suspicion and then burst out in laughter.

Harry's head snapped over to me and confusion overtook his expression. "What are you laughing at?" He started chuckling at the sight of me doubling over in hysterics.

I couldn't form the words so I just pointed to the painting and he stopped laughing and looked at me like I was crazy. "You're so immature Annabelle," he scoffed.

I eventually found my voice again and asked him if he knew who the artist was. He shook his head, which only caused me to laugh again at the irony.

"Her name is Lily Robinson and she's my mom," I informed him.

"Oh, well she's a talented painter," he complimented.

"I remember the day she painted that. She had a model and everything. Even though this was about a year ago, it was awkward to watch as my mom painted a nude scene," I laughed, smiling at the memory.

"You think you can set me up with that model?" Harry inquired, joking around.

I was laughing so hard at this point, it caused me stomach pains.

"Stop laughing," Harry demanded.

I stopped immediately, seeing that he was dead serious.

"I don't care about the painting or the model in it. I just want to go to bed so I'll go get you some clothes to change in to since you've been in those all day," he said gesturing to my outfit. Talk about a mood change.

Harry disappeared behind the wall and left me to myself. If he understood the irony of this situation he would be laughing to.

He came back moments later with a stack of blankets, sweats and a t-shirt, and two pillows tucked under his arm. He handed me the clothes, his clothes. He instructed me to go behind the partition and through the doors into his bathroom to change. I nodded and made my way across his massive living room.

I was revealed to Harry's bedroom when I walked behind the wall. His bed looked as though someone combined two California King mattresses and formed a super mattress. I guess having big things was Harry's specialty. Furniture, that is.

I changed into his clothes, which smelled strongly of coffee and cologne. I rolled the sweats about ten times since Harry's legs were much longer than mine. I stepped back out into his bedroom and something caught my eye.

On this side of the partition the wall was covered with pictures of Harry and what I assumed to be his family. I walked over to the wall to look at some of the photos. In nearly all of them Harry was laughing with two girls that looked just like him. I finally spotted a family picture where I was shown what I guessed was Harry's mom, and his two sisters. Damn, that family had good genes. I couldn't find any pictures where Harry was photographed with his dad which made me question whether they were on good terms, or any terms at all.