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“Not. I don’t believe it.”
She grins, shaking her phone in my direction, “I’ll hit you up, soon. We can hang out,” she smiles back at me as she rolls away, “and live our realest life.”
“Sounds good.”
We exchange curious back glances as we walk away. I’m so not her type. I can tell, and if I’m completely honest, though beautiful, she doesn’t seem like mine either.
It doesn’t matter in the least. Some part of me wants to know her, and I can tell by the way she looks back at me before she disappears behind a row of cars, she feels the same.
Theo
“Sup, Theo?” my neighbor’s son, Dante yells from his porch as I check my mail.
“Hey, Dante.”
“I’m not allowed to get off the porch.”
“What did you do this time?”
He grins over at me. “Nothing.”
The screen door rattles on its hinges as his mother pokes her head out.
“Lying,” she says, looking at me with an eye roll. “He broke his X-box in a fit and lied about it. The boy is only five years old and lies as easy as he takes a breath.”
Dante shakes his head. “This is my time to reflect on my bad decisions, Mom. I need to be alone.”
Clarissa and I share a grin. “Manipulative too. He gets that from his father.”
“I don’t have a Daddy,” Dante spouts, “he’s dead.”
“BOY! What in the world?! Your father is not dead.”
“Well, he never comes over to see us!”
Clarissa pauses, and I can see the embarrassment on her face before she steps off the porch shielding her eyes from the sun.
“This child is going to be the death of me. How are you doing, Theo?”
“No complaints,” I say, meeting her between our yards. I met Clarissa and Dante the week I moved into the rental. I made it a point to ask her that if me or my roommates made too much noise to let me know. While we aren’t a frat house, I like and play my music, loud. Clarissa is beautiful, with long auburn hair and icy blue-colored eyes. I place her somewhere in her mid-to-late twenties, as is most of the neighborhood. It’s why I chose the area. Since I’ve moved in, Troy and I do little things for her, like watch Dante so she can have an hour to herself to get her nails done. Troy mows her lawn when he does ours. We have the same landlord with the same strict rules, so I figure we’re sort of in it together. And I think Troy has a soft spot for single mothers, due to being raised by one himself.
She glances toward my house with interest. “So, what’s up with the quiet one? He’s got that serial killer vibe.”
I laugh. “Lance? He’s harmless. He’s on the team with Troy.”
“Oh? I might have to bring Dante to a game soon. He needs to be involved in something. Maybe I can get him excited about football.”
“I hate football,” Dante speaks up from behind her.
“Hush, Dante, you hate the air you’re breathing right now. Get your butt inside and straighten your room.”
“This house is a prison!”
I can’t help my laugh. “Someone has been watching way too much Step Brothers.”
“Tell me abo
ut it. I busted him watching it on regular TV while I was grading papers. He’s a sponge, and I was too late. He told the pastor he was going to have a ‘Boats and Hoes’ birthday cake after church on Sunday.”
