I detested him the first time I met him. He was a very hard person not to hate. Of course, he wasn't doing it on purpose but that somehow only made him the more hateable. I consider myself a good judge of character -for the career I had in mind, it was crucial- yet I was completely stumped. The second time we'd met, he had somehow gotten even more infuriating. And the third time I met him, absolutely nothing had changed.
It was a Wednesday, the most boring day in my less than fulfilling schedule, also known as grocery day. I had gone out a few hours prior and it was raining by the time I started back and honestly, I should not have been surprised. In Weston, the weather was known to be at best fickle and at worst bipolar. When I got to the apartment, I was positively soaked through and the harsh autumn wind wasn't helping my case. As I fumbled around for my keys while cursing the inventor of paper grocery bags, a passing figure caught my eye. Since the door to the apartment was situated on the side of the building, the person was easy to spot. He was dressed in a black tuxedo topped with a long beige overcoat. The only thing that made him stand out from the hundreds of businessman that worked at the company a few blocks down was his top hat. It was tipped down so that it covered part of his face, shrouding it in darkness. From across the street, I noticed his brown eyes, so dark that they almost seemed black, staring at me. The man was leaning on a light pole, feet crossed and hands in his pockets, seemingly unperturbed by the pouring rain. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties but no older than thirty. Not exactly sure why I'd noticed him, I shook my head and slipped into the apartment building. I felt a bit bad about the track of water that I was sure to leave on the newly mopped marble floors. As I made my way to the elevator I couldn't shake the man's dark gaze, that seemed so familiar. Where had I seen it before? Maybe I'd crossed him back at Merrider. I shook my head, trying to clear the flood of thoughts that came with memories of the Academy.
Don't go there.
Slipping out of the elevator, I adjusted my grip on the grocery bag and glancing down at my watch. It's 8:30 and I desperately hoped that he got retarded by the rain because I didn't have the patience to deal with Jackson Smith, the most obnoxiously talkative neighbor I have ever had. Hope shimmer in me as I reach my apartment door. Yes, he wasn't there yet, all I had to do was unlock the door and I would be s-
"Hey, Lieve!"
"Ahh!" I yelped. I was so close. Jack had his hand on my shoulder and I had to force myself not to grab it and snap his wrist backwards. Not bothering to turn around I unlocked my door, wanting nothing more than to slither into the warmth of my home but I knew Jack would take that as an invitation to come in. Turning to him, I didn't quite smile but I managed not to scowl up at him. Jack was the kind of person that reeked of privilege. I suppose I was not much different. He didn't seem older than me and if so not by much but he had a naiveté to him that I had lost long ago. His overexcited yet bashful way of speaking might have been charming if I'd been a different person. Maybe if I'd met him at an earlier time in my life.
"Um, how are you?" He leaned back scratching at the back of his neck. A habit he exercised so often I was surprised the back of his neck wasn't irritated by now. The wet, shivering, tired part of me who was being weighed by a bag full of groceries felt like telling him "soaked to the bone" and slamming the door in his face. In the end, though, the civil part of me won out. Giving him an indulgent smile, I slipped a hand on the doorknob.
"I'm fine, why do you ask?" my eyes narrowed at him, suddenly suspicious, "Mrs. Wiltson sent you didn't she?" when he didn't answer immediately I knew I'd nailed it. With a sigh, I opened the door, turning to him as I backed into the apartment. "Let her know I'm not starving to death and I'm completely fine. This week is just a bad week. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to put these groceries away and I'm expecting a call." Surprisingly, Jack didn't press me or object all he did was cock his head as I turned away.
