**Chapter 3: The Evening Unfolds** "Oh my God, I’m going to pee my pants! MOVE! MOVE, DIANA! Get out of my way!" Gigi Graham charged through my door like a hurricane, sending me flailing into the closet as she bolted straight for the bathroom. We had dinner plans tonight, and while I had expected her to wait for me in the driveway outside the Sycamore building, she had opted to use her spare key to burst in, clearly experiencing a very urgent crisis of the bladder variety. Her sandals slapped against the hardwood floor in a wild dance of panic. The bathroom door swung wide open, forgotten in her haste, and moments later, I could hear the unmistakable sound of water hitting porcelain, punctuated by her relieved huffing. “Where are your manners?” I called out, half-amused, half-annoyed. "They left me after the third iced coffee," she shouted back, her voice echoing off the tiled walls. "I made the mistake of chugging another one right before I left Boston!" “Iced coffee, huh? You sure you’re not... you know…” I ventured, my voice dripping with mischief. “What?” she emerged, a loud strangled noise escaping her lips. “God, no! Just because I got married doesn’t mean I’m ready for a kid. I drank too much in the car and didn’t feel like stopping! Trust me, you would be the first person I called if I got knocked up. Because I’d be freaking the fuck out!” The toilet flushed, and she flitted back into the kitchen looking much more relaxed, a lightness in her step now that nature had been appeased. Her gaze locked onto the coffee table, and she froze, her eyes widening. “Did you get a cat?” In the chaos of Shane moving in next door, I had completely forgotten about Lucy. She was huddled under the table, her tail flicking anxiously, clearly still traumatized from my undignified tumble earlier. I had texted Priya earlier to let her know I’d bring Lucy back after dinner. "Oh, you’re annoyed at me? Really? I get caught naked in front of my fuckboy neighbor because you decide to body-check me, and I’m the bad guy?" I shot a glance at Gigi, still pondering her question. "She’s my neighbor’s cat, and trust me, she's a little demon. We need to drop her off downstairs on our way out." “Wait, were you talking about Shane?” Gigi burst into laughter, her head thrown back. “Shane saw you naked?” “I fell when Lucy bolted, and my towel slipped off just as Shane was coming up the stairs,” I grumbled, the humiliation washing over me again. “I hate giving Lindley any kind of upper hand. Now he’s got the ultimate ammunition against me! Why is this my life?” “Why are you talking to the ceiling?” “I’m not talking to the ceiling. I’m talking to the universe.” “Why’s the universe up there? It’s all around us.” “Fine, I’m talking to the gods then. All fifty of them." “You're so fucking weird.” With the casual vibe of someone mentioning the weather, she turned, half-skip in her step. “Okay, shall we head out?” Her sandals echoed against the kitchen tile, each click sounding like a thundering storm to our overly sensitive neighbor downstairs. “Keep it down!” Niall’s muffled voice called from below, a permanent sour note to our joyful chaos. “And I repeat, why is this my life?” I hollered back, stomping the ground lightly in frustration. “If you don’t like basic walking, Niall, then you’re definitely not going to enjoy all the dancing I plan to do tomorrow!” “I take it Kenji’s coming over?” Gigi asked, a grin of amusement spreading across her face. “Yup!” Kenji wasn’t just a friend; he was my dance partner, and tomorrow marked the start of our preparations for the biggest amateur ballroom dance championship in the country—the National Upper Amateur Ballroom Championships, to be precise. Not just some weekend fun, but a serious competition in Boston that we had been aiming for since we formed our partnership two years ago. The National Championship wasn’t just a name. After too many beginners treated the event like an easy outing, it got a facelift from the NABC to the NUABC, marking a dividing line between amateurs and upper amateurs. No random onlookers were allowed; only those who earned their spots through rigorous preliminary rounds. That also meant that I was fiercely training for something that might result in nothing at all. Yet, Kenji and I qualified last year, and buoyed by that victory, I held onto hope for another round. "You always have so many things going on,” Gigi marveled, shaking her head. “Cheerleading, this dance stuff…” “That’s two things.” “Fine, but you’re always throwing yourself headfirst into these side gigs. Your cheer schedule is already crazy, and somehow you give ballroom dancing equal attention. If I had to concentrate on anything besides hockey and put that amount of effort into it, I’d end up a zombie.” I shrugged, tossing my purse over my shoulder. "Life’s too short not to do everything I want to do." “Life is also exhausting,” she countered, rolling her eyes. “To everyone but you, apparently.” I did have a high-energy level. I couldn’t deny that. Grabbing Lucy from under the table, I held her squirming body close against my chest, ignoring her protests. “No,” I said firmly. “I've had enough of your attitude.” With Lucy secured, I locked up and we made our way down the flight of stairs. Lucy let out a loud yowl of rebellion as I passed her off to a very relieved Priya, who was waiting on the main floor with gratitude spilling from her expression. “Thanks for keeping her,” Priya said, her dark eyes sparkling. “I would’ve run upstairs to grab her earlier, but I couldn’t leave my client alone in my apartment.” “It’s no problem. Although I’m sure Niall didn’t enjoy hearing her meows bouncing off the walls like a vengeful ghost.” From behind his door, Niall shot back, “It was intolerable!” “Oh, get over it, Niall!” Priya called, rolling her eyes at his melodrama. As we exited into the lobby, Gigi shook her head at me. “You know, your mom might have a point about this condo. You can’t even walk into your kitchen without being yelled at. It’s ridiculous.” My mother had been pushing to sell my condo since Aunt Jennifer's estate was settled. She expected me to take the cash and run, just like my younger brother had done with his apartment. But Thomas and I were cut from very different cloth. While he was essentially a free spirit, craving adventure with a burning desire to save the world, I found solace in the familiarity of home. Me? I loved my cozy space, cherished evenings with a good book or a reality show. I felt content here, just as often as I enjoyed going out, and I was adamant about not trading my sanctuary for cash—even if it did mean awkward run-ins with Niall. “Life is exhausting,” I agreed, shaking my head as we headed toward Hastings for dinner. We settled at a local burger joint, the atmosphere heavy with chatter and the sizzling sound of the grill. As we waited for our orders, I could sense the disappointment radiating from Gigi. “No chance you can make it to Tahoe?” she asked, eyeing me with a touch of longing. Her family had a tradition of spending August in Lake Tahoe, an annual retreat that came with beautiful lakes, sun-soaked days, and family gatherings. But this year they were only going for two weeks, due to Gigi’s wedding at the end of the month. “Honestly, I can’t,” I replied regretfully. “I have to work.” Finding a job in Hastings was nearly impossible, especially during the school year. So snagging this waitressing gig at Della’s was a much-needed victory. The income wasn’t just pocket money; it paid my way to continue living here. “I’ll have free weekends and maybe some weeknights,” I assured her. “So I’ll definitely be able to help with wedding stuff. Dress fittings, all that." “Oh, don’t worry! My Aunt Summer’s handling it,” she said with a sigh. “Expect at least two emails a day from her.” I rolled my eyes at the chaos looming in our future. Planning Gigi’s bachelorette with Mya, her former roommate and co-maid of honor, had already become a whirlwind tour of frantic emails and frantic ideas, especially with Aunt Summer adding her chaotic flair into the mix without invitation. “I can’t believe I won’t have a plus-one at your wedding,” I mused, pouting slightly. “You could go with Shane,” she suggested flippantly, an all-too-casual idea that sent a zap of horror through me. “Nope!” I laughed loudly, drawing glances from other diners. “Got it. No Shane.” “Good. Just… please don’t.” Gigi grimaced at the thought. “I was just being nice when I told him I’d stay friends,” I admitted. “But now I’m regretting it. He texted me earlier asking to hang out.” “You didn’t say yes, did you?” “Nope, I didn’t answer.” “Good. Don’t.” A smile crept onto my face. “You really didn’t like him much, did you?” “No.” Gigi was adamant, and her distaste was something she had shared repeatedly throughout my rocky relationship with Percy, the ex-boyfriend. The biggest issue she had was the age gap—he was five years older than me—though the appeal of dating someone older was part of the reason I had stuck around as long as I did. Percy was charming and confident in ways the boys I was used to were not. He was grounded, attentive, treating me like someone worth cherishing rather than an object. But that was before glimpses of his thin skin and possessive tendencies started creeping in. “He was so possessive when we went out that one time,” Gigi reminded me, making a face. “Oh, and he said he loved you during sex. That’s just… cringey.” “Yeah, I don’t disagree,” I replied, providing a grimace of my own. “The first time he dropped the L-bomb was mid-ejaculation. I didn’t say it back, and the look in his eyes afterward told me he wasn’t thrilled about it.” She laughed softly. “That’s awkward.” “And a few weeks later, during dinner, he said it again. Formal setting, dessert, and he insisted we share the fork. It was… yeah, just no.” “Who does that?” “Someone who needs to chill out, apparently,” I sighed. “But after hitting the six-month mark and still feeling nothing deeper than ‘I guess I like him’, I knew we weren’t meant to last.” “And then there was that time he threw a glass against the wall…” “Yes!” That was a fact I had very much kept to myself. The red-flush memory of Percy’s wrath after a minor argument with his brother had occurred right in front of me. I vividly recalled the ensuing chaos as shards of glass flew and the scream of glass splintering echoed in my ears. His temper had scared me more than anything and wasn’t something I would tolerate. Just as I was lost in thought over my ex, my phone buzzed, indicating another incoming message. "Ugh, he’s double texting," I muttered as I glanced down. “Yes! He really wants a date with you,” Gigi teased, stealing a moment to savor my cringe. “Man, he can suck a dick,” I replied after reading the message. Laughter bubbled between us as I polished off the last bite of my burger, and I could feel the weight of the evening slowly lifting. After dinner, we strolled along Main Street, popping into quaint little shops, looking for handcrafted treasures and unique clothing, before Gigi drove me home. “I wish you were in the dorms this summer,” she lamented. “You wouldn’t have to drive more than an hour to hang out with me.” “Honestly, I’m barely going to be around these next few months,” Gigi said, glancing at me, guilt flickering across her eyes. “Wedding-planning shit, Arizona next week for Ryder’s dad’s parole hearing, then Tahoe with my family, and I’ll be in Italy on our honeymoon...” “Jeez, world traveler over here!” I whistled. “And stop doing things backward! Elopement, honeymoon in Italy, then a wedding? Who taught you life?” She rolled her eyes but didn’t dig deeper, and I didn’t press either. It was an awkward touchpoint—a tragic family situation that Gigi had been dealing with regarding Ryder’s father, who had committed an unspeakable crime years ago and was now up for parole. I felt the tension radiate from her. As we pulled up to the MEADOW HILL sign, Gigi parked the car in front of the Sycamore building. “I’ll see you this weekend?” she asked, savouring every moment like it would be our last for a while. “Definitely. And if you can get away from your family before that, let me know. Come over, swim a bit.” I could use the relaxation time. “You might have to catch a dance practice if you stop by, but Kenji and I only rehearse for about an hour.” “I’ll let you know. Love you,” she said, wrapping her arm around my shoulder for a side hug. “Love you too!” As she drove off, another vehicle approached, stirring my curiosity. Peeking over, I spotted a familiar figure stepping out of the backseat. My heart rate spiked. I narrowed my eyes. It was Crystal Haller, one of my fellow cheerleaders. Oh, come on. That fucking asshole. “Diana! Hey!” Crystal approached with an awkward smile—a stranger’s friendliness surfacing from beneath the layers of cheer squad hierarchy. We weren’t particularly close, though as captain, I made an effort to get to know all squad members. But there was a snooty element about her that had never quite clicked with me. "I forgot you lived here," she continued, obliviously, as we paused at the main entrance. “I’m here to see—” “Yeah, I know. Lindley.” She flinched, clearly taken aback. “How did you know that?” “Simple deduction. He’s my new neighbor,” I said, crossing my arms. “I assumed it was only a matter of time before the girl parade started.” That earned me a deep frown from her. “Sorry,” I hedged, attempting to backtrack. “I didn’t mean it like that… Actually, I did. You do know he’s a player, right?” “Of course I know that, Di,” she rolled her eyes, a defensive edge creeping in. I relaxed a little at her use of my nickname; it indicated some level of comfort. “Okay. Good. Just, you know, temper your expectations. Audrey sprained her ankle because of the guy.” "That’s unfair. He didn’t sprain her ankle,” she countered, folding her arms. “No, he didn’t personally. But she fell because she got so distracted by her will-he-or-won’t-he obsession with him. And spoiler alert—he didn’t call,” I said, firm in my warning. “Actually, he did call. But that was to tell her he wouldn’t be calling anymore.” I leveled a determined look at Crystal. “He is a very dangerous man.” “It’s all right,” she said, amusement creeping back into her tone. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big girl.” “Consider this your warning.” I brushed past her the lobby and up to the security desk, waving at Richard, the night guard, who looked like he had permanently adopted the sunburned-green aesthetic. “Evening, Diana!” he greeted warmly. “Hey, Richard,” I replied, gesturing to Crystal. “This is Crystal. She’s here to see Shane Lindley, in unit 2B." He nodded, writing it down. I turned to Crystal, guiding her through the double doors out into the winding, paved path that led to their part of the complex. We passed Cherry Blossom and Silver Pine before reaching our own building lobby. “We’re up here,” I said, making my way towards the stairs, noting Crystal’s surprise. “Oh wow, you weren’t kidding. You really are neighbors,” she said, sheer disbelief coloring her words. “Ugh, yeah,” I replied, the irritation surfacing again. “Don’t sound so thrilled about it,” she teased. “I don’t like hockey players,” I muttered under my breath. Well, that was a smidgen untrue. Gigi was my best friend, and her fiancé Ryder played hockey. But something about Shane rubbed me the wrong way; he seemed more trouble than he was worth. When we reached the top of the stairs, I pointed out my door, marked 2A. "His apartment is over there." “Thanks,” she called, stepping toward 2B. I slipped into my apartment and clicked the lock behind me. Immersed in the soft chatter of voices drifting from the neighboring door, I caught the familiar rumble of laughter—it sounded like Shane’s. Then another sound—a door closing, signifying the chaos on the other side. In the kitchen, I tapped out a quick message to Gigi. Me: What’s Shane’s number? I need it. As I waited for a response, I ambled over to Skip’s tank, making small talk with my fish who was awkwardly swimming laps. My plans for the evening involved a cozy session of TRN, my beloved guilty-pleasure reality show, which was airing a meet-the-cast special. I had been waiting for this all week! Just settling down on the couch, my phone buzzed again; Percy was texting me once more. PERCY: I only ask because I thought it would be nice to see each other and catch up. I totally get it if you don’t want to, but we agreed to be friends, so… *shrug emoji* I stifled a sigh, recalling the conversation I had drawn up in my head about what 'being friends' could look like. I had meant it when I said it, but now I felt like a total jerk if I turned him down. Me: Hey, sorry for not getting back sooner. I was out with Gigi. If you want to watch some reality TV with me, you can come by for a bit, but I plan to go to bed early since I have the breakfast shift tomorrow. PERCY: I’ll stay an hour, tops. See you soon. He texted back with an eagerness that made my heart sink, reminiscent of the excitement we once shared. I opened the door less than twenty minutes later as he stood there, sporting that same boyish grin that used to make me weak in the knees. “How’ve you been?” I asked, my voice trying to sound casual. “Good. I was just at Malone’s meeting with a realtor,” he said, excitement spilling over. “Tell me you remember my landlords are selling the townhouse, right? This agent was supposed to help me track down another place, but nothing’s available!” “Oh my gosh! Will you have to live in the graduate dorms?” My heart sank for him. He groaned, shaking his head. “Definitely don’t want to live in those. Some of the singles are nice, but the only ones left have a communal bathroom. Christ. I’m a total germaphobe. You know I need my own bathroom.” “I don’t blame you. Same here,” I said, the empathy building. As I made tea for us, we caught up on each other’s lives, exchanging stories and savoring the moments. Just as we finally sank onto opposite ends of the couch, the inevitable question surfaced. “So, how are you doing?” he asked, shifting awkwardly as if treading lightly. “I’m good. Busy summer ahead,” I replied, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “With two jobs, I might just find myself drowning in chaos at some point.” “I love your work ethic. Kind of reminds me of myself. I used to work three jobs during my undergrad,” he reminisced, taking a sip. “Right, I remember you telling me that,” I replied, warmth blooming from the memories of him excitedly talking about his struggles back then. A silence settled, an unspoken tension weaving between us. His gaze lingered on me, as if he desperately wanted to know whether or not I was seeing anyone. Thankfully, he held back, pushing us back into the light banter with a new subject. “So, are you ready for this?” I held up the remote, my eyes sparkling with the thrill of it all. “The new season of *Fling or Forever* starts next week!” He grimaced, the corners of his mouth twisting in amusement. “Can’t believe you made me watch a whole season of that junk.” “Three episodes, Percival! Only three!” “That’s three too many,” he laughed, the humor dancing in his green eyes. This wasn't too bad, I thought; perhaps we could make this friendship work. Settling down further into the couch, I began flipping through the channels until I landed on TRN, where the reality show was gearing up to introduce the cast for the new season. I was delighted to see some familiar faces on screen and settled in for low-key gossip fodder with Percy. “Holy shit, that’s Steven Price,” I exclaimed as a contestant strutted across the screen—an NFL player freshly retired after a series of injuries. “Who?” Percy asked, confusion passing over his features. “The guy was injured a few seasons ago and now he’s retired,” I explained while watching with gusto. “Christ. Here I am grinding my way to earn my master’s while this guy has an NFL career behind him,” he muttered, disbelief scratching his voice. “And this girl, Zoey, is a cellist!” I exclaimed, delighting in the unfolding drama of the cast. “Poor girl. What the hell is she doing on a show like this?” Percy laughed. “Oh—okay, hold on. This guy! That’s my guy!” I beamed at the screen as another contestant entered. “That’s ‘The Connor’,” Percy deadpanned. “And he talks like a douchebag.” “Don’t judge a radio DJ by his cover!” I admonished playfully. “I bet he’s a secret softie.” As my phone buzzed again, I glanced at the screen. Gigi had sent me Shane’s contact info. GIGI: Please be nice to him. He’s basically my brother-in-law now. I rolled my eyes before starting to message Shane, but embarrassment gripped me. Apparently, he was cocky enough to expect a rise out of me. I decided for a little fun at his expense, sending my texts one line at a time, building the suspense as I went. Crystal’s name danced back into my mind, and I couldn’t help but entertain the idea of how it would feel to say my full-blown disdain straight to Shane's face. My phone vibrated, effectively snapping me back into the moment. SHANE: Aww, sounds like someone’s feeling left out. Come join us. The glare on my face must have been spectacular as anticipation built within me. ME: Never. The night rolled on, filled with laughter around the TV screen, but somewhere beneath the surface, the complexity of friendships and rivalries intertwined. I could only hope that this summer would shape up to be a wild ride—filled with unexpected twists and dynamic turns.