Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Day Three Why Me?
I eye the door between our rooms suspiciously. I’ve gone a whole day without seeing my neighbor. I should be relieved, but it’s only set my nerves on edge. And … just maybe I’m a little disappointed?
No. April, no! Great, I’m yelling at myself like I’m instructing my dog, Toto, not to jump up on everybody he sees. Sort of like Cal.
I snort at my own joke and am about to slide into bed when I notice a piece of paper being slipped under the connecting door.
I stare at it, debating whether or not I should collect it.
Maybe I can pretend that I didn’t see it, but I scrap that idea when I hear a fake cough from the other side of the door.
That cough was clearly calling bullshit without saying the words.
I rise from my bed and reach down to grab the note, half expecting there to be a string attached to it or some other childish prank involved.
I examine it, but it seems harmless enough.
Unfolding the ripped-out piece of spiral notebook paper, I admire his handwriting. It’s way nicer than my own childish loops, a fact that only makes me even more annoyed at him.
Lil’ Dancing Queen, it’s your turn as DJ. Play five of your current top songs before bed. I’ll be listening …
I reread the note and an unexpected thrill shoots through me at his “I’ll be listening” comment.
I can hear my pulse racing in my ears. Meanwhile, I can only assume the Dancing Queen part is in obvious reference to me playing ABBA’s Greatest Hits on occasion.
I’d seen Mamma Mia!, the musical, with my parents and went on a bender of their songs for a while.
That wasn’t too humiliating, right? Oh well.
I briefly debate whether I should play along with his DJ request or not.
Then comes an exaggerated sneeze from Cal’s side of the door, and even I chuckle at his persistence.
I snag my cell phone, which I’d just plugged in for the night, and pull up my music app, double-checking first that my Bluetooth is paired to my small, but durable, travel speaker.
Smiling to myself, I bite my bottom lip and select “I Forgot That You Existed” by Taylor Swift.
Not that it’s my favorite, I like it enough, but I am hoping he’ll get the intended insult. My turn, after all.
If he does, Cal doesn’t seem to mind because I can hear him tapping along to the beat.
For the next song, I take his challenge seriously and play a new pop song that’s my current earworm, then a classic rock ballad I think he might know and like, followed by a song that reminds me of high school and my friends, and ending with a melancholy love song that I sometimes like to play when I’m reading or on a rainy day.
I hate that I care, but I wonder what Cal thinks of my music choices. Lying down on my bed, I picture him doing the same. Now I can’t get his handsome, smirking face out of my mind. Yep. I am in so much trouble. Maybe I am like the silly girls who swoon at his feet.
After the song has stopped, I hear Cal call out, “Sleep tight.”
“Night,” I shout back, but it doesn’t come off as stern as I had intended. It’s almost wistful. Dammit!
I pound my pillow, and it takes me longer to fall asleep than usual, but when I finally do doze off, it’s with a smile on my lips and thoughts of Cal.