Page 7 of The Single Dad Grump Next Door

What did I do to deserve an entire summer spent under the same roof with Alina Sokolov?

Chapter Three: Alina

[Ten Years Ago]

I’m running as fast as I can, the soles of my patent leather shoes smacking against the linoleum-tiled steps of the building’s stairwell.

I wasn’t supposed to be running late today. It’s my roommate’s fault, honestly. If Becca hadn’t been sobbing over the state of the frayed horsehair of her viola’s bow, I would’ve been able to leave at my usual time without pausing to comfort her.

Never mind that it’s her own fault that her equipment is in such disarray. She never stores her bow properly. My father would take one look at her side of the room and claim that she has a frightful disregard for the integrity of the instrument she endeavors to master. Or something like that.

I really can’t afford to be thinking about my father right now, though. If he saw the way I was running with my violin case, he’d be utterly horrified.

With a desperate glance at my watch, I pick up the pace.

I have to beat him.

I know for a fact that he has his private lesson with Madam Hemloc every Tuesday morning from nine to nine fifty. I know this because that was supposed to bemyspot, but I got stuck with the eleven o’clock slot with the renowned violin tutor. Whatever. At least it means that I can sneak in an extra hour or two of practice in the morning.

Unfortunately, that awful boy has learned that I like to practice in one of the northeast-facing rooms in this building. He’s also managed to figure out that my eight o’clock Music Theory class gives me just barely enough time to run to my dorm, grab my violin, and make it to the rehearsal rooms before ten.

And, ever since he’s discovered that, he’s made it his life’s mission to teleport directly from his lesson with Madam Hemloc tomybeloved practice space. Last week, he claimed it for himself with a wicked smile. I swear he exists just to spite me. I knew that Juilliard would be competitive, but I didn’t realize that fate would offer me an arch nemesis who’s determined to thwart me however and whenever he possibly can.

This week, though, he won’t be so lucky.

I dash up the last flight of stairs and throw open the metal door. It groans loudly as I hug my violin case to my chest to avoid slamming it against the threshold as I whirl around the corner and fling myself down the hall.

Almost there…

That’s when I hear it. A quiet snicker, harmonized with the tell-tale footsteps of my least favorite person alive. After just two years of dealing with him, I’ve memorized enough about his stature and general presence to be able to sense when he’s in the vicinity. It’s a survival tactic.

I glance up to find him coming down the opposite end of the hall, his violin case clutched tightly in his hand. We lock eyes.

He starts running.

I let out a frustrated snarl, throwing every ounce of strength I have into my legs, urging them to go faster. He’s taller, though. Faster. He catches up to me too easily.

And yet, with a shout of victory, I make it to the practice room door with a half-second lead, slamming my hand down on the handle and blocking the doorway with my body. I nearly collide with the door itself thanks to the sudden halt, and then he nearly collides directly into me.

Instantly, he stumbles away from me. Like standing too close to me might expose him to some kind of poison.

For a moment, all we do is glare at each other as we both try to catch our breath.

“I was here first,” I pant.

“Debatable. I was already in the hallway when you came out of the stairwell.”

“That means nothing, Gabriel,” I snarl.

“It means that I was here first, actually, Ali,” he argues back.

I fight the urge to hiss at him like a feral cat. He irks me like nobody ever has before. Gabe Sterling, with his tall and graceful physique. Golden skin and dark curls. Not to mention the twinkly green eyes that half the girls at this school audibly fawn over whenever he walks by. It’s not fair that he’s handsome.

If I were in charge of such things, I would ensure that each human only gets one major advantage in life. You can’t be talentedandpretty. You can only choose one.

I bet Gabe would choose prettiness. For all his obvious talent with the violin, he preens like a peacock whenever someone is caught sighing over his good looks.

I really can’t stand him.

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