Page 19 of Faking it with my Off Limits Neighbor

“Thank you again, Troy. You saved my life today,” Charlie says.

“Well, not quite,” I laugh. “Anyway, you paid me back with a delicious cup of caffeinated coffee.” I smirk.

She bursts into laughter.

Milly gives us both a confused look, and then I grab my sister by the arm and practically drag her out of the house.

9

Charlie

Weird would not quite be the right word for the feeling I’m experiencing after Milly and Troy leave. I’m not really sure what the feeling is called. All I know is, that for at least fifteen minutes after I hear the front door close, all I can do is stand in the kitchen and stare at the breakfast bar.

I invited Troy in for coffee as a thank you for going out of his way this morning. If I’m honest, it was guilt that motivated the decision. Once he was here, though, I realized that I didn’t want him to go. We talked like he had never left me all those years ago. Well, nearly. There was a little awkwardness, which I suppose is only to be expected. But it didn’t take long for us to fall into the same easiness we had always shared when we were together.

In fact, Milly’s intrusion irritated me a little.

Snap out of it, Charlie. This is the guy you said you wanted nothing to do with.

It’s true. Finding out he was moving in next door did worry me, but my resistance to his presence is waning. Maybe it’s because he’s a little different. A difference I’m struggling to define.

He’s still the same old Troy in many ways, but he’s calmer; he feels more grounded. Maybe it’s just an age thing. Maybe he’s just matured. It happens, right?

Yes, Charlie. It’s called growing up.

I smile as I recall him asking about my eyeglasses. It’s probably the most significant change in me—for him, at least. In fact, it was Troy who gave me the confidence all those years ago to wear them and not feel so self-conscious. It was also the first time I really knew that he liked me.

* * *

After school, I’d gone to the Heatons’ house with Milly. I went there whenever I got the opportunity. It sure beat going home to a cold house and finding my dad lying on the sofa, semi-conscious and drunk. We lived off state benefits then, and while there never seemed to be enough money to heat the house, there always seemed to be enough money for his booze.

Of course, Milly knew all about my home life. She was my only friend, and with that, my confidant. We had just started our senior year, and having to deal with the pressures of school as well as the situation at home, was all a bit overwhelming for me. The Heatons kind of adopted me, in some ways.

“I’m going to get some snacks,” Milly announced, jumping off her bed.

We were doing homework in her room, and snacks and drinks were an everyday occurrence. I lifted my head, smiled, and nodded.

When Milly left the room, I scooted off the bed to grab something from my bag. After retrieving my textbook, I spun around and jumped with fright when I saw Troy standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said, with that beautiful, full-lipped smile.

I remember croaking out some noise that I felt wholly embarrassed about for days while simultaneously pushing my thick-framed eyeglasses up my nose as my heart thumped in my chest.

You see, I was already head over heels in love with Troy Heaton. I had been for at least a year. After Mom died, I was too busy grieving the great hole her absence had left for me to really notice him. A year and a half later, it was like I was seeing my best friend’s brother for the first time.

Of course, he paid no attention to me. He was far too busy playing football and being a typical jock, hanging around with all the beautiful, popular people. But every time I came to Milly’s house, I would catch glimpses of him, and every time, my heart would thump in my chest.

He was leaning against the door frame, the sports vest hugging his muscular body. He looked relaxed and smiled at me, while I felt the exact opposite of relaxed.

“What are you studying?” he asked, nodding at the textbook I was gripping and taking a step into Milly’s Bedroom.

“Oh, er…” I looked down at the textbook to get my answer while my brain swirled with figuring out how words worked. “Er… math,” I said eventually.

He screwed up his face playfully. “I hate math.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Really? Why?”

He lifted his hand and swirled it near his temple. “All those numbers give me a headache.”

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