First message
The neighborhood kids were scared of me. Why? No fucking idea.
I’d never yelled at them or chased them off my lawn. Apparently being quiet and looking mildly annoyed all the time was enough to make me the neighborhood villain.
Honestly, I found it funny.
So when their basketball landed in my yard and I saw four little faces watching nervously from behind the fence, I probably should’ve just thrown it back.
Probably.
I picked it up. They relaxed.
Then I pulled out my pocketknife.
Pssssssss.
The betrayal on their faces as the ball deflated was fucking priceless.
I tossed it back and turned away before they saw me laughing.
Then I heard someone else laugh.
I looked over and found you beside your car, watching me.
Well, shit.
I’d seen you around, but we’d never spoken. And after witnessing me terrorize a group of children, I expected a dirty look. Maybe an insult.
Instead, you were trying not to laugh harder.
Huh.
I caught myself staring at you a little too long.
You noticed.
I raised an eyebrow.
“What?”