Second Chances

2. Dorothy

"How the hell am I supposed to fix this?"
I shoved a handful of popcorn into my mouth and tucked my feet under my blanket as I listened to my neighbors yell.
The walls in this building were really thin, and my new neighbors had been arguing since I'd gotten here. About half an hour after I had finished moving all of my luggage upstairs, two men had stormed into the building and slammed the door to the apartment across from mine. They had been yelling ever since. From what I could gather, one of them had broken something.... what it was I couldn't tell.
"Do you realize how old these things are? No one fixes these anymore!"
I continued listening as I paused my movie and headed into the kitchen to refill my popcorn bowl. My sock covered feet padded across the shiny tile of the kitchen, and the fabric from my dress brushed against my exposed legs.
The voices from across the hall became less muffled, and I realized that they were now in the hall, just outside my door.
What are they still going on about?
I hurried from the kitchen and pressed my ear against my front door, pulling my hair away from my neck. The two yelled at each other on the other side.
I listened intently.
"Listen, I told you I was sorry, man-"
"Sorry? My uncle is going to kill me. He entrusted me with his bike for the first time, and now I have to explain to him that someone broke the belts?"
My ears pricked at the sudden mention of a motorcycle, but a pit formed deep in the base of stomach. I felt a familiar wave of nausea wash over me, and I fought the urge to gag.
Don't think about that. You're moving on. No more tears.
"Calm down, man! Can't you just drive down to Billie's tomorrow and get a replacement?"
I scoffed into the wood.
No matter how new a bike is, a replacement on any piece would cost a fortune.
"Wow, a replacement! Why hadn't I thought of that?" Sarcasm dripped from his words like poison, and even I found myself recoiling back from his tone. "Hello! It's not exactly a new bike!" He groaned in frustration. "My uncle spent years fixing up this bike. There are pieces in it from before we were even born."
I chewed my lip. I knew I shouldn't have been eavesdropping on their conversation, but after all, it wasn't really my fault, right? Thin walls...
"Besides," he sighed in defeat and I frowned. "I'm not even entirely sure what's wrong with it. All I know is that you," he growled. "Borrowed the bike and now it doesn't run. I mean-it won't even start! And I don't have the money to fix whatever the hell you did."
I leaned my head against the door, ignoring the swelling feeling in my throat.
Of all things, my neighbors had to have a problem with a motorcycle? I moved here to get away from all of that, and now, it's practically kicking my door down!
Walk away. Go watch your movie.
"I don't even think anyone at Billie's has enough training to fix this old of a bike, anyway. I mean, they're all new employees! They don't teach them how to fix old bikes anymore-not with all of the tech crap coming out these days."
I flicked my eyes to the door. That's exactly what I thought!
No, you don't think anything anymore. Go sit down, Harley.
"I swear, I'll make it up to you."
"Don't you get it? There isn't a way to make it up to me! Not unless you know some mechanic that can fix a bike they don't even produce anymore!"
He groaned angrily, and the door was suddenly thrust sharply from the other side, making my head bounce off of it with a sharp bang.
I held my head and cursed out in surprise. "Shit, ow!"
The voices stopped and I froze.
I held my breath and silently kicked myself.
No no no no please.
Shuffling and murmurs echoed through the door followed my a steady knocking.
I clenched my teeth and facepalmed.
Shit! They were gonna know I was listening! Why did I have to be so nosy?
A second knock. "Hello?" His deep voice was closer this time, and I leaned in to peer through the peep hole on my door.
All I could see was the hallway. Neither boys were to be seen, until suddenly, the hole got dark, and I found an eye peering back at me through the door.
"Who are you?"
I jumped back, startled. My cheeks burned.
He saw me. I had to open the door now! Stupid stupid stupid....
I raised a shaky hand and grabbed the handle, slowly twisting it.
"I saw you, you know. I know you're in there."
I groaned inwardly in humiliation and pulled the door open the rest of the way.
The man standing on the other side took a step back in surprise when his eyes landed on me.
I looked up into his eyes and swallowed, clearing my throat.
Of course he had to be cute.
"Were you listening to us?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but the sound that came out was a strangled jumble of half words.
"W-I.... No-I didn-I'm..."
He raised his eyes brows and stared down at me, clearly irritated. His dark eyes looked me up and down. His friend hit him on the arm, brushing him back a step and getting closer to my open door.
"Dude, relax. Hi there," he held his hand out to me, shooting me a flirty smile. "You must be new. I'm Dax, but you can call me Big D." He winked and I glanced down at his extended hand.
"Uhm..." I hesitantly raised my hand and placed it in his, shaking it slowly.
Dax's friend looked at his friend and rolled his eyes. "Seriously? It's been less than five minutes, and you're already hitting on her?" He dragged a hand down his face, and looked back at me.
I pulled my hand away from Dax and cleared my throat. I met his friend's eyes.
"You're clearly," he gestured to my outfit vaguely. "Not from around here, so let me give you a tip. People don't eavesdrop on their neighbor's conversations."
I frowned. What was wrong with what I was wearing? I looked down, baffled. I was wearing a floral print sundress with my jean jacket. My brown cowgirl boots lay next to the door. My hair was slightly curly, and I had a single, twine bracelet on my wrist. Other than that, I wasn't wearing anything interesting.
I met his eyes again. "I'm sorry," I rested a hand on the doorframe and stood up straighter to appear taller. "There is something wrong with what I'm wearing?"
His eyes widened a fraction, and within in an instant, he was failing to suppress a laugh. Failing badly.
A bubble of irritation formed in my gut, replacing any sadness I felt prior to our conversation.
He took a deep breath, composing himself. "I-I'm sorry. You're definitely not from around here. I mean, when did the twister drop you off here, Dorothy? I haven't seen any munchkins yet..." He smiled mockingly down at me, and despite my anger, my cheeks burned.
I knew that I didn't sound like a person from New York. I didn't think I sounded that southern, but apparently I was wrong.
I stood my ground.
"Is there something you need?"
Dax jumped back in, pushing his friend back a step. "Don't mind Ben, Sweetheart. He's just mad because I broke his toy."
I grimaced at the nickname, but I didn't have time to say anything. Ben cut me off, turning to his friend with an are you kidding me look.
"My toy? Are you serious? This motorcycle is not a toy, it is a very old, very important vehicle, and you're lucky I don't rip your goddamn balls off for-"
I started inching backwards. "Well, y'all clearly have something to work through, you if you'll excuse me-"
"No, wait!" Dax pushed my door back open with his hand, keeping it their to stop me from closing the door. "I didn't even get your name. Where are you from? Let's get to know each other! Let me give you a tour of the city-"
"You know, that really won't be necessary, but thanks anyways-"
Ben took Dax's hand off my door and shoved him back a step. "Come on man, we have to go call Billie's. Don't be a stalker. Dorothy here isn't interested."
I crossed my arms. "My name isn't Dorothy."
He looked over his shoulder at me, and scoffed. "Right." He shoved Dax into their apartment, and he slammed the door, cutting off Dax's shouting.
"I never got your na-" Slam.
I stood there frozen for a second, baffled and speechless.
What the heck was his problem? It's not like I listened intentionally-at first... the walls were really thin! I can't help that my ears work.
I blink twice and close my door, the muffled sounds of shouting coming from behind their door once again.
"Why do you always have to cock block me man?"
"Shut up about her, and call Billie's. You better hope they have someone that can fix this bike..."
I chewed my lip and sank back onto my couch. My remote laid haphazard on the floor and my blanket was thrown over the arm, the corner dragging on the floor.
The fact that I now really lived here finally sunk in.
Lord help me.