Page 21 of Loathe Thy Neighbor

“Come on, pan. You know I’m starving.” I shake my head when I realize I’m talking to an inanimate object. “I might be going mad. I should get another beer.”

I grab another from the fridge and pop the top. I don’t normally drink this early in the day, but today I’m saying fuck it.

It’s probably just the heat making me feel so worn out, but this day feels like it’s about ten years long.

Or it could be talking to my sister. Or dealing with River this morning.

She always has that effect on me.

When the pan is finally ready, I slap a few slices of bacon in there and let them do their thing. The fat begins to sizzle, and the smell makes my stomach growl.

I swivel around to the sink and turn the water on to start rinsing off the knife and wiping down the sink. I learned early on when I started living on my own that if I don’t clean as I go when in the kitchen, it’ll never get done.

I’m not a slob, but I could use improvement in a few areas. I try to keep a clean apartment in case my mother decides to do one of her surprise visits—like she did last week when she ripped into me for having a pizza box on the living room table.

“…soothes my soul,” I sing quietly as I clean. “I reminisce—Man, Leo, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this song. It’s a damn classic, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t respond.

Not because he isn’t listening, but because he’s a turtle.

If there’s one thing I can count on Leo for, it’s listening.

Or at least that’s what I tell myself when I’m talking to him alone inside my apartment like a nutjob.

Being alone doesn’t bother me. I prefer it, really. That’s why I did everything I could to get away as fast as possible. Well, that and the people—the rich pricks who run the place and coast on Mommy and Daddy’s money.

The private school my parents sent us to after we hit the jackpot wasn’t my thing. The students were all elitist assholes, and all the teachers did was kiss their asses.

At the end of it all, I suppose I should thank them. They’re a big reason I wanted to become a teacher. If I can save a couple kids from feeling as misplaced as I did, I’ll be happy.

And that’s what I am: happy.

I crank up my smart device, letting the tunes wash over me, and take a healthy pull from my beer.

“Ahh, much better.”

I smack my lips together, then check the bacon. It’s almost done. Just a few minutes and then I can put the rest of my lunch together and be on my way to sandwich heaven.

I grab the dishtowel to busy myself and start wiping away the breadcrumbs from next to the stove.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

Several harsh blows land on my front door.

“What the…”

I toss the cloth toward the counter and pad to the entryway.

I put my eye up to the peephole, but whoever is out there is covering it.

That can only mean one thing…

“What the fuck, River?” I yank the door open. “Why are you banging on my door like you’re the cops. I’m—”

My words die on my tongue when I get a look at her.

River White is standing before me in nothing but a towel.

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