You Would Never Know

IV | The Girl Next Door

My best and worst mistake ever was when I laid eyes on her.

It was a beautiful morning, with orange hues veiling us, and, as usual, my mom would tag me along with her in her "she said, he said" tea parties. And in one of them, I got to meet the green-eyed menace.

I distinctly remember how Mamma pulled me to the side, pointed at the pretty girl, and said, "You remember that fairytale I read to you every night? Well, it could come to life. One day, you can make it come true."

And from then on, I've dedicated every fiber in my body to Dali, not with the intention of having her to myself but with the intention of giving her my whole being.

I might not be the man she dreamed of, but that sixteen-year-old tried to be something for her, something that could be there for her in any way she needed or wanted.

That mission to ease her mind became hard once she realized how our society functions. It's not that the two families verbally forced her to say yes, but there was a pressure there from them that me and her, especially her, couldn't control at that time.

Hinting here and there, pulling to the side for unsolicited advice, or at times blatantly talking about how good it is for business.

I was aware of everything that was happening, but I could only do so much when I still hadn't received my current position. The face she had at that moment, when I jokingly proposed with a ring pop, made me think I was doing something right for once. It was a mixture of bewilderment and, surprisingly, affection, but not the platonic kind. It seemed to be the kind I had for her.

Without a doubt, I shook off the thought, and I still do since Dali has the tendency to think and do the opposite of what you're expecting or what appears to be the case.

My joke seemed to be an icebreaker because, afterwards, the pressure of those hammering us into the depths of adulthood seemed to disappear. Our whole time was spent throwing sarcastic jabs at each other, defending each other when some snarky kids approached us, and ditching high school parties to eat street food while listening to her rant about how she smacked that one kid in English class with a textbook for sitting on her seat in fourth grade.

But now I spend my time reminiscing while I stare at the irritating neighbor who decided to move in on my day off.

Come to think of it, that long raven hair is a little too similar to Dali's...

My gaze lingered on the silhouette for a bit before I got up from my bed frantically and walked out of my house to reach her as soon as I could.

Standing right behind her, I tapped on her shoulder and wanted to start interrogating her, but I couldn't when she loudly gasped, cutting me off.

"What?"

She pointed at my half-naked form, and I realized what was wrong, but I pretended that this was intentional.

"This is not your first time seeing this, so tell me, what's up with the moving trucks and, well, all of this?" I gestured with my eyes to the people coming and going.

She laughed and gave me that irritating smile of hers and said, "Say hi to your new neighbor, Abel, dearest."

For a moment there, I hoped she'd be joking, but no, definitely not. Because for her, it's more convenient to buy a house than to move in with me.

Here's the thing: I thought she'd stay at the estate or maybe move in with me, which is what typically happens when people get married, and this whole neighbor idea is frustrating because she's too close but too far, which is not something I like.