Mailbox 31 { Luke Hemmings }

t w o .

The next morning, I woke up to a banging sound on my wall, like somebody was banging something into it. Or someone.

I went downstairs and heard another noise. It was definitely someONE being banged, and I grimaced at the thought of knowing my neighbors were doing the do while I was trying to eat my cheerios. What a gross way to start the day.

After wasting half of the day watching Netflix in my pajamas, I decided to do something productive (for once in my life). I threw on a Christmas sweater with a reindeer on it and some leggings and grabbed my keys and my wallet; it was time for some decorations.

I drove to the nearest craft store and bought some Christmas lights along with a little pine tree, feeling satisfied with myself. I thought about picking up some fries from McDonalds on the way home after realizing I hadn't eaten yet, but I looked down at my stomach and reconsidered. Not eating lunch won't kill me, not today.

As I was about to pull up to my apartment, it dawned on me that I needed to check the mail. After I parked my car, I walked down to the mailboxes and searched for my number.

While trailing my finger up and down the rows in search for the number 32, I must have missed somebody standing there and I walked straight into them.
"Watch it!" the boy said, rudely and arrogantly. "I'm so sorry," I said, scrambling for an apology, "I'm sorry. Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry, again." I was talking way too much, nice going Avery. The light-haired boy scoffed at me "maybe look where you're going next time," he said. I put my head down in shame and found my mailbox, number 32.

As I was fumbling with the keys, the tall boy cleared his throat from behind me. "Move," he commanded, and I asked him quietly, "what?" He spoke loudly in return, "move out of my way, you're in front of my fucking mailbox." I was taken aback by his foul language, but moved anyway. He moved in towards mailbox 31, and I managed to stutter out, "I'm sorry."

He rolled his eyes, and, unlocking his mailbox, he told me that I "apologized way too much." "Sorry," I said, not realizing what I had said until after I did. He rolled his eyes again and walked away, but not before uttering sarcastically "oh and by the way, I love your sweater."

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Author's note: sorry it took so long to update, i had to delete wattpad for a while. there arent that many people reading this but thank you if you are!! you rock!