Synonyms For Better

Chapter V - Life of a Professional Hermit

NOT-NEEL LOOKED stunned, but quickly recovered. His dark eyes met mine as he stepped onto the doorstep, fully framing the doorway. "I could ask you the same thing, actually." He smirked. "Were you so offended by me forgetting your whipped cream that you showed up to where I live? Are you stalking me, Miss Almond Baba?"

I stared at him for a second, wondering if he was being serious, and then I said the first thing that came to mind. "Stalking? Oh no, that would require way too much effort. I prefer the coincidental appearances method. Um, surprise?"

It wasn't rational, it didn't deny his accusation of me being disturbed by his whipped cream offense, but it seemed to be a decent answer because Not-Neel's eyebrows raised like he was curious, but he didn't comment on it.

"What's your name? I blurted, and Not-Neel chuckled. He straightened himself up, all proper gentleman-like, and held out a hand for me to shake.

"Hi, my name is Finneas Ryder. But everyone calls me Finn."

Finn.

Suddenly I could place a real name to the face that was becoming so familiar to me. Not 'Mr Not Neel', but Finn. It worked; between his messy dark hair, sinfully dark eyes, the mischievous twinkle behind them, and the teasing curve of his lips, something just worked, and a name like Finn just perfectly fit this delinquent.

And I recognized the name from when Jolene had mentioned her two friends: Renzo and Finn. I had yet to meet the other person.

I realized I was staring when he cleared his throat amusedly. I took his hand hastily, hoping I shook it firmly enough to show my position as a (totally not) confident woman in society, and then he looked at me expectantly.

I stared back.

"And your name is..."

"Oh!" I felt my face heat up. Right then, I just wanted to dream up a rocketship and launch myself out into space, because I totally deserved to be isolated from the rest of mannered civilization.

"Hi, my name is Cora Turwal. And, um, everyone calls me Cora. I guess."

"Well, hello, Cora." My name on his lips felt so...strange to listen to, and I realized it was because I was getting used to the stupid 'Miss Almond Baba'. Finn let go of my hand, resting his arm on the door frame instead. "Nice to meet you. Alright, Cora, what are you doing here?"

"I- Um, Aunt Cheryl- I mean, Cheryl is my aunt, and...I just got here today and I'm going to be staying here for a while," I responded. "What about you?"

"I've been living here for a while for rent. Cheryl is the best though, treats us like her friends. Amazing woman. I feel like I can confidently say this is my place."

My cheeks flushed slightly. "Oh, I see. I didn't know..."

Finn chuckled. "Yeah, I don't recall your aunt mentioning specifically that she had such a lovely surprise package moving in."

I laughed (read: giggled like a toddler) nervously. "Um, thanks?"

He nodded, then paused. "Well, I should get going, Cora." He raised his eyebrows. "If you'll let me in, that is?"

I realized I was still standing in the way and quickly stepped away. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. I don't know who died and made me the porch police."

What?

"Right, the porch police." Finn hid a laugh, his tongue in his cheek, and I wanted to cartwheel to the nearest police station so I could surrender myself for such unlawful, unlicensed blabbering.

"Yup."

Finn stepped into the house, and I went to close the door. But I must have been worriedly thinking about if there were any diets for people who yap when nervous, because I absently pushed the door when he wasn't even all the way in, almost squishing him like Play-Doh in a toddler's hand. I gasped, my eyes widening in horror, and I quickly caught the door.