Page 32 of The Guy Next Door

There’s a question in my mind, a place I don’t want to let myself go to, but a vibrating sound catches my attention before Leif pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Ah, that’s my parents,” he says around a mouthful. “Probably calling to update me about Linda. Think I’m gonna head back.”

He sounds so cool, so unfazed by everything we’ve just discussed as he shoves the rest of his pizza in his mouth and hops up, starting for the door.

“Wait,” I say, and he stops and spins toward me. “You’re not gonna take some with you? I can’t eat all this.”

“I insist. You said you don’t cook much, and I have leftovers from lunch yesterday.”

But I don’t want him to stay just for pizza. I’ve enjoyed getting to know Leif beyond what I’ve learned from stalking him.

“Oh, before I go.” He approaches and hands me his phone.

Maybe since I’m in stalker mode, my first thought is, does he want me to put a tracker in it?

“Your number,” he says. “Put it in.”

I chuckle. “Oh. Right. That’s what normal people do.”

I input my number, then hand him his phone.

“See you later, creeper,” he says with a wink.

It’s disappointing that he’s going already. It’s nice to have some company, or maybe I like that he’s the company. I assume the latter. But he heads on his way, and before I know it, he’s gone.

*

Sitting at mydesk, I take another bite of the chicken Alfredo pizza. I close my eyes and savor it.

Fuck, that guy knows how to make a pizza.

I’m appreciative he insisted I keep the leftovers since, outside of what he’s brought me, the homemade meals I typically encounter come in the form of frozen dinners, sandwiches, and cans.

I just wish he’d been able to stay longer. Beyond the attraction I can’t deny, it was nice to talk to someone who knowswhat it’s like to lose control of his mind. Who knows things some people in this world won’t ever understand…at least, I hope most people don’t have to live like this.

I check the time on my computer monitor, and it’s a little past eleven. After Leif left, I got in a good bit of work, since I have to pay the bills. And if what I’ve learned in my stalking is any indication, Leif should be finishing up his shower right about now.

I set my slice on a plate on my desk, watching the surveillance footage on my monitor as a shadow moves around Leif’s bedroom, behind the blinds. Having seen him in only a towel, it’s easy for me to imagine what he looks like behind those blinds at this time of night. It’s the sort of thing that makes my dick perk right up.

I want to slap at my crotch. I shouldn’t enjoy this; although, maybe this is the way my mind tries to make the best of a shitty situation.

Or maybe I’m just creeping on him.

“Hey, Dr. Byce. I wanted to check in with you about my doses. If you could give me a call when you get a chance, that’d be great.”

Shortly after our discussion, I called my psych. I’ve had a few discussions with her since I became Leif Anderson’s neighbor. I’m not so oblivious that I don’t realize all this could be a cause for concern. Despite taking my meds, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d ever experienced symptoms and needed to have my doses adjusted. Of course, I won’t tell her how I’m spending my days. Just mention some feelings of paranoia. Make it sound less concerning than maybe I should; although shouldn’t you be honest about this shit with your goddamn psychiatrist? But if I told her the truth, I’d definitely wind up in a psych unit. Not that that would be so terrible if I needed help, but if that happens, I won’t be able to protect Leif.

It’s a struggle because I do believe I’m right, but I believed I was right about Isaac Tolle, the professor from Mike’s school. This is different, though, since I actually have evidence and rational reasons for thinking Leif’s in danger. But what if it’s all a lie I’m telling myself? Part of this delusion I’m suffering from?

I didn’t tell Leif, but when he said he wasn’t sure what to think…well, I’m not sure either.

I take another bite, practically sucking too much of my slice into my mouth.

As I set it back on the plate, the blinds at Leif’s window pull up.

What is he doing? Doesn’t he know someone other than me could be watching right now?

But the blinds steadily reveal sweatpants, then his nude torso. He stands at the window, looking out, searching. Has he heard something outside?

I check the other cameras, wondering if there’s something I’m missing, when I see him texting on his phone. As a text comes through on mine, I snatch it quickly to check.

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