~Cassidy~

He wore black runners, black basketball shorts, and a loose white tank top. An army green bandanna pushed his sweaty hair off of his forehead. Adorning his hands were black boxing gloves, and he was punching the bag.

For a moment, I just stood there, watching him. When he went in to punch, he took two small, hopping steps, delivering a strong blow to the bag, and then took the same two steps back, his right leg resting in front of his left. When he stepped back while the bag swung wildly, he held his hands up to his face, blocking it.

I realised that I’d been staring and looked away, clearing my throat.

He froze, hearing me, and turned slowly towards me. We were twenty feet apart. He bent down and picked up a water bottle, taking a long swig of the contents, his eyes never leaving mine. I shook my head in distaste and turned away.

“What are you doing here?” his accented voice rang out from behind me.

I peeked over my shoulder, “Well,” I said, annoyed, “I was going to do a few miles on the treadmill, but seeing as you’re here, I’ll just leave. You looked pretty busy anyways.”

I rolled my eyes as I turned again to leave, storming out of the gym. Great—first he has to ruin the thing that I love most, and now I can’t even come to the gym after the God-awful sessions? Was he trying to piss me off? Did he want me to rip his head off? Because that was probably what I most felt like doing at the moment.

I walked along the hall before I heard rustling coming from the gym. A moment later, there was a squeaking noise against the floor, and someone was calling out, “Kane!”

For a split second, I just kept walking before I realised that he was addressing me, remembering that I’d told him that that was my name. I stopped in my tracks and turned to him, irritated, “What?” I asked tiredly, wishing he’d just fuck off.

He smirked at me, finally catching up. I finally got a close look at his face. A thin, glistening sheet of sweat was visible, the skin above his upper lip gleaming in the faint lights in the hallway. Small hairs managed to get under his headband, falling back onto his face, and his cheeks were red. He was panting slightly.

“Can I help you, Curly?” I questioned, continuing to walk and not to look at him. He kept pace with me, “Harry,” he explained, “My name’s Harry.”

I risked a glance at him from the corner of my eye and saw that he was still smirking, “And since I’ve told you my name,” he said, “I think it’s about time that you tell me yours.”

“I already told you my name,” I snapped, rolling my eyes.

He shook his head, chuckling lightly, “I know that’s not your real name. You didn’t turn right away when I called you.”

Fuck, he’d noticed that? Damn him and his amazingly good eyesight and ability to read so far into a situation. I gritted my teeth, hoping that this conversation would soon be over.

“Nice observation,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my words, “But I like to be addressed as Kane. So mind your own fucking business.”

He chuckled lowly again, “You’re stubborn,” he noted, and I simply rolled my eyes, wishing that he’d leave me the hell alone, “I like that.”

“I don’t give a shit about your personal preferences,” I snapped, really growing tired of him. He was so annoying—why? Was that a skill that he prided himself on? I’d only known this dude for a week, yet I was so ready to kill him.

He laughed this time, a real, full-out laugh. It actually sounded nice, but I was too annoyed to care. We walked out of the community center, and I turned one way while he turned the other. When he saw that I was walking, his brow furrowed, and he called out, “Do you need a ride?”

I didn’t answer, but simply rolled my eyes. I was starting to fear that they would get stuck there if I spent any more time around him. As if God wanted to spite me, I felt a drop of water hit my cheek. I looked up, only to be greeted with more drops falling from the sky.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said, growling. I turned back to Curly, only to find that he was wearing a smug smirk on his face. Could he just stop with that fucking smirk? I’d been actually going to accept his offer, but now anger just boiled in the pit of my stomach. I whipped back around, lifting my chin into the air and stalking away. I could practically feel him laughing silently behind me.

Flipping him the finger, I turned the corner, walking away, water raining down on me.

~*~

The following Monday, the hurricane still hadn’t hit us. Meteorologists said that it was moving ten time slower than any actual hurricane, and their theory was that when it hit, it would hit hard, having gathered up enough wind and water from the ocean to cause a giant disaster. The whole state was on high alert, people preparing for the worse.

I wished that it would just hurry the fuck up so that I could get it over with. Knowing that it would be ten times worse had my insides all twisted up inside, anxious, and waiting. I walked outside, studying the sky, which was a light shade of gray. The sun wasn’t shining, the only natural light coming from the grayness of the clouds themselves.

Just then, I heard a noise to my left, and turned, grateful when I saw someone emerging from that house rather than Curly’s house, which was on my right. A small, portly woman with frizzy gray hair stepped out. She was wearing a blue apron with pink flower print pants, and brown sandals, and holding a green watering can in her hand. I smiled.

“Hi Mrs. Jansen,” I called out, waving.

She turned to look at me, and immediately her face broke into a large smile, “Oh!” she called out, and she set down the watering can, hobbling down to the steps and across the yard. I met her halfway, smiling, and enveloped her in a hug.

“Cassidy,” she gushed, pulling back and studying my face, “How are you, dear? I was just coming out to water the plants.”

I cocked an eyebrow, “Mrs. Jansen, you do know that there’s a hurricane coming, right?”

She chuckled, slapping my arm lightly, “Of course I do, honey. But that’s no excuse to let the plants die, is it?” I shrugged, not wanting to tell her that the plants would get wrecked by the upcoming storm anyways.

Mrs. Jansen had been my next-door neighbor ever since I moved into this house. She and her husband, Mr. Jansen—a tall, lanky man with a bald spot and soft blue eyes—had been living in their house for thirty years. When I’d moved in, they’d welcomed me with open arms, and I now considered them as my parents.

“Well,” she clapped her hands, “Come in, dear. We live right next-door, yet I haven’t seen you in a month.” I chuckled lightly, following her as she turned away, making her way back over to her house.

We entered the house, and the scent of lavender immediately filled my nostrils. It was familiar, and reminded me of a sense of safety and security, and I subconsciously smiled.

“James!” Mrs. Jansen called out, “Cassidy’s here, darling!”

“In here!” a sweet voice answered. I walked towards the living room and peeked through the threshold of the door. Mr. Jansen sat on his recliner, watching the television with a concentrated expression on his face. When he saw me, he beamed, reached for the remote, shutting the device, and sat up from his chair.

“Cassidy,” he said, hugging me, which I returned, “Nice to see you again, dear.”

I giggled, “And you, Mr. Jansen.”

“Would you like some tea, Cassidy?” Mrs. Jansen asked sweetly, and I nodded, knowing that she’d feel bad if I declined.

She led me into their kitchen, and I took a seat at the table while she rummaged through the cupboards, looking for a tea bag.

“So how are things, dear?” Mr. Jansen asked, sitting with me at the table, while his wife filled pot with water and set it on the stove to boil. I nodded, fiddling with my fingers, “They’re alright, I guess.”

“How’s swim?” he questioned, his eyes gleaming proudly. Mr. Jansen was so proud that I was following my dream and pursuing it, and he often told me how I’d make a good role model. I tried not to snort; yeah, right.

“It’s going really well,” I said sincerely, smiling, “I’m so close, Mr. Jansen. The board wants to see if I have the proper leadership qualities, so Matt organized sessions with a pupil. If the pupil gives me a good review, I’m in.”

Mr. Jansen smiled, “They will give you a good review, honey. You are one of the nicest people I know.”

I tried not to burst out laughing, clenching my hands in my lap to stop myself from snorting.

“Thanks,” I told him sweetly, while Mrs. Jansen pulled the pot containing the hot water off of the stove and pouring half of it into a mug, setting a teabag in. I thanked her as she wobbled over and handed me the mug. I blew on the tea lightly and took a small sip, careful not to burn my tongue.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and Mrs. Jansen’s eyes widened. She clapped her hands, beginning to make her way out of the kitchen, “Oh, James, he’s here!”

“I can see that, my dear,” Mr. Jansen answered, chuckling quietly, and I smiled. Even after more than thirty years of marriage, they were still so in love. I hoped to be like that someday, always smiling at someone.

While Mrs. Jansen went to answer the door, I turned to her husband, a confused expression clearly visible on my face. “Who’s here?” I asked, and Mr. Jansen smiled at me.

“Our new neighbor,” he explained, and I froze, my grip on the mug tightening, turning my hands white, “You know, the young fellow that just moved in. I think his name was Harry?”

I heard Mrs. Jansen greet someone excitedly, followed by low murmuring, and soon, I heard footsteps. Finally, they both entered. Harry wore a black t-shirt with black jeans—again, and his hair was styled in a messy quiff, pushed up off of his forehead. Mrs. Jansen was smiling widely, looking from Harry to me and then back again.

“Cassidy,” she gushed, and I cringed—now he knew my name, “You know Harry, right?”

I simply nodded silently and took a calm sip of my tea, my eyes focussing intently on Harry. He smirked lightly, and Mrs. Jansen ushered him towards a seat. Sure enough, it was the one next to me. I tightened my shoulders, hunching them, and tried to make myself as compact at possible.

“Harry!” Mrs. Jansen said, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Um,” Harry chewed on his lip, looking uncomfortable, and I took another sip of my tea, smiling into the cup, “Sure, thank you, love.”

Mrs. Jansen blushed when he called her that, and I rolled my eyes. “James,” she said, “Isn’t he polite?”

“Very,” Mr. Jansen agreed, and he stood up, going over to grab another teabag from the cupboard while she poured hot water into a second mug. Harry leaned over to me, and I froze, not used to being this close to someone.

“Cassidy, eh?” he asked, and I could hear the smirk in his voice, “Nice.”

I looked away, taking another calm sip of my drink, my knuckles white from gripping the porcelain mug so hard. Really Mrs. Jansen? Of all times to use my name, you have to say it right now? I cringed when I thought about it. He’d probably start called me Cassidy now, just to piss me off. And I had to see him every week, maybe even more often, due to the fact that we were neighbors.

“So, Cassidy,” Mrs. Jansen began, hurrying over and handing Harry his tea, at which he thanked her, making me grit my teeth quietly, “Are you dreading the hurricane?”

I nodded curtly, really not enjoying this. Mrs. Jansen was probably telling Harry everything there was to know about me! What the actual fuck!

Harry must’ve looked confused, because Mrs. Jansen was quick to explain, and I wanted to scream at her to stop, but I couldn’t.

“Oh, Harry,” she said, “Cassidy has quite the fear of storms, you know. She simply cannot stand them.”

“Yeah?” he said, shooting me a look, “And why has Cassidy never told me this?” he smiled cheekily, and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed in my body not to throw my mug aside and pounce on him, ripping him to shreds. Just the sound of my name rolling off of his tongue made me want to vomit.

I finally shrugged, saying something since Harry had arrived. “You never asked,” I mumbled, turning towards him slightly, but not meeting his eyes.

He smirked at me, “I would’ve,” he said simply, and I almost gagged.

The whole time, Mrs. Jansen watched us with a sweet smile on her face. When I didn’t respond to Harry, she butted in immediately, “So,” she began, smiling widely at me, and for a moment, I feared what she said, but I took a sip of my tea nonetheless, hoping to have something to distract me, “Are you two dating?”

I choked, sputtering and trying to get a grip. Harry himself coughed awkwardly, and finally, when didn’t have hot liquid caught in my throat, I shook my head furiously, still emitting soft coughs and trying to rid myself of the barf that just welled up in my throat.

“No!” I said, clearing my throat, the occasional cough still slipping through, “God, no, Mrs. Jansen. Definitely not.”

Harry didn’t say anything, but rather just smiled up apologetically at her, and her face fell slightly, “Oh,” she said softly, “I mean—I just assumed that—”

I cut her off before she could say anything else, feeling bad, but she needed to get her shit straight. “No,” I said sternly, not looking at Harry, hoping that my face didn’t look as hot as it felt, “Definitely not.”

She nodded, “Okay.”

I looked away, still gripping my mug, but not taking a sip; I’d just about had it with tea now. The tension in the air was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Mr. Jansen cleared his throat, looking at his wife, “Poppy, I’m going to go check downstairs if we have any pasta for dinner tonight.” Without another word, he hurried out of the kitchen.

Take me with you.

I stood, my chair squeaking against the floor, and set my mug down, looking away from Mrs. Jansen and Harry, staring at the threshold of the door, “Um,” I bit my lip, “I should probably get going. It was nice seeing you again Mrs. Jansen.”

“Oh, alright, dear,” Mrs. Jansen even looked relieved to be on another topic. Harry cleared his throat and stood as well, “I’ll walk her home, Mrs. Jansen, don’t worry.”

The elderly lady beamed at Harry, resulting in me turning away and rolling my eyes, “How sweet of you Harry!”

She ushered us towards the door. I walked down the hall, and opened the front entrance, stepping out, Harry following behind me. Mrs. Jansen stood behind the door, waving, “Have a nice day, darlings!” she called, and I smiled at her as she closed the door.

Without another word, I whipped around, running down the steps and storming away, over the lawn, and towards my house. Harry called out to me, and I moment later, he appeared next to me, slightly breathless. I rolled my eyes but climbed the steps leading to my door anyways.

“Hey,” he said accusingly, raking his fingers through his hair. I opened my door, not having locked it before, and rolled my eyes stepping in. I made a move to close it in his face, but his foot came out and stopped it, and I gritted my teeth. He shoved his way into my house, so that he stood just inside, and I put my hands on my hips.

“You know I can have you arrested for trespassing, right?” I asked angrily, wanting him to get the fuck out of my house. There were no elderly people around, so I didn’t feel the need to be civil around him.

I tried shoving him out, but he stood his ground, chuckling, “You won’t have me arrested,” he stated simply, and I hated how he was so sure of himself.

“The fuck I will,” I snapped, once again trying to push him out, but he wouldn’t have it.

“I didn’t know you were afraid of storms,” he said innocently, and I rolled my eyes, “Seriously dude? Just get out of my house!”

“Not until you tell me something about yourself,” he bargained, smiling cheekily at me.

I frowned, “I really don’t like you. There. Now get the fuck out.” He held up his hands, chuckling lowly.

“Fine, fine, I guess that counts,” he admitted, and then he shot me a devilish grin, “I’ll see you around…Cassidy.”

“Out!” I yelled, pointing to the door, getting really fed up with him. He laughed loudly, stepping out of my house and walking down the steps slowly. I wished more than anything that I could run out there and push him down.

I slammed the door, his laughs ringing in my ears.

Notes

I hoped you liked this chapter. Updates may be a bit slow now, but that's only because I'm working super hard to perfect the ending of my other story. Once it's finished, I will update regularly on this story.

Thank you for everything guys, I really appreciate it. Could we maybe get some more comments on this story? I'd really love to hear your feedback. COMMENT, VOTE and SUBSCRIBE!

Random fact: Cats have 32 muscles in each ear.

~I adore each and every one of you~