Chapter 4 - Alyssa.

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Chapter 4 - Alyssa

I'm doing and English Lit essay when the doorbell rings. My heart starts to pound painfully fast for no reason at all. I know it's stupid how, when I'm home alone, one noise can make me terrified. But it always happens.

My dad is visiting my grandma and my mum's taken Phillip to his friend's house. I was glad, because they'd all been noisily getting on my nerves, but now, I'm scared to open the door.

It's not even like it's a dark, haunted night. It's a lovely spring day, full of light and tweeting birds. Yet I'm still tiptoeing as I make my way down the stairs.

Of course I look through the little spy hole first, to make sure who is there, holding my breath. My sensible half expects it to be a postman, and my drama maniac half expects it to be a crazy man with a chainsaw ready to kill me.

But it's neither - it's . . . A boy.

I haven't seen him before. From what I can see through the spy hole he keeps glancing at the door then behind him and then turning back round with a smile. I grab my keys as silently as possible then shakily open up.

He's tall, is the first thing I notice. And surprised-looking, as he looks down at me. I just stare at him, taking in his rather nice appearance - pale skin and grey-blue eyes contrasted with very dark hair. Some heated blotches of colour on his cheeks. A couple of faint acne scars on his jaw. After a few seconds, I can't deny it - he's extremely good-looking, in a kind of unexpected way.

"Hi," he begins, raising a hand with a chilled smile. A genuine smile. I'm half expecting him to laugh at me or something, like most people seem to do. But he doesn't.

"H-hello," I stammer stupidly. That's when it hits me, the ultimate question - what the hell is he doing here?

"I'm . . . Really sorry. But, uh, my friends and I were playing football and the ball accidentally kind of . . . Well, my friend kicked it dead high and it went into your back garden." He stops talking and for a second I feel my face burn and tingle as his cool eyes run over it entirely.

"Oh," I blurt out. "I'll just . . . I'll get it for you!"

I feel like an idiot and so on display as he just smiles politely and thanks me. So that is one of my new neighbours. Him, and Will Palmer. I really cannot understand why I am suddenly being surrounded by such . . . such attractive boys, all of a sudden!

I rush out to the back of the house and spot a new-looking football in the middle of grass. Whoever kicked that must be some footballer, alright. I sigh and pick it up, then get back to him quickly.

"Ah, thank you!" The boy's face breaks out into a huge grin when I come back, and I carefully hand it to him.

I expect him to leave, but he keeps standing there. Of course - friendly neighbours and all that; we have to introduce ourselves.

"So, you moved here a few days ago, huh?" He actually leans against the door frame, a bit closer to me. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, yes," I say cautiously, and I sound like a weak little thing. "I . . . It's really nice. So much prettier around here than where I used to live."

"Yeah? Where did you live before?"

"Just near the centre of town." I gulp as I stare at his face and then try to smile the way he is smiling at me. I feel like my face is trembling.

"Oh." He leans back and stands up straight again. "Well, glad you like it. I'm Niall, by the way. I live at number four."

Then he holds out his hand. It looks pale and slim. Taken aback at the formality, I slowly take his hand and he grins at me like he wants to laugh. I can't help but smile a little more, too.

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