Oh Jesus, that’s kind of romantic. “How high up is your window?”

“First floor. I’ll give you a boost.”

Sounds reasonable enough. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Abe

“Do I need to call the cops?” Skylar and I both pause at the interruption coming from the house next door. The sound of another window being cracked open stops me from giving her a final boost into my bedroom, hands splayed firmly on her backside.

I slowly lower her back to the ground. Pivot.

It’s one of the neighbor girls, now hanging out their bathroom window. “Did you hear me?” she says, leaning further.

“I live here. Don’t call the cops.”

“Prove it.”

I feel around for my wallet, knowing that even if I pull out my driver’s license it will be useless since my school address isn’t listed on it. “Um…”

“What’s your name?” the girl asks, holding out a can of something I can’t make out in the dark. Raid? Hairspray? Bear spray? It’s hard to tell in the dim light.

“Abe Davis.”

The can lowers and she sets it on a hidden countertop. “You passed.”

“Thanks?” …for not spraying us both in the eyes with mace?

“What the hell are you doing climbing in through the window? Lose your key?” the voice wants to know, and rightfully so. If I saw some strange dude hanging from her window, I’d try to stop him, too.

“Uh, nope. Didn’t lose my key.”

“Front door busted?”

“Er…no.”

“What then?” She’s impatient, wanting details. “You have ten seconds to explain yourself before I call the cop shop.”

Two seconds ago she acknowledged she knew who I was!

My hands give Skylar a gentle nudge forward. “This is a girl my roommate met on LoveU. He isn’t into her—”

“Gee, thanks,” Skylar murmurs begrudgingly, giving me a bump with her elbow.

“—but I am, and if he sees her inside, he’s going to get pissed, so we have to sneak in through the window.”

The girl—whose face I still can’t see because of the backlighting—holds up her palm to stop me. “Say no more. I totally get it.” There’s a quick pause. “How many roommates do you have?”

“Just the one.”

“So it’s the guy with the sandy blond hair?”

“Uh, yeah…” What’s her point?

“My roommate Sybil has the hots for him, but she’s a big wuss.” Even though I can’t see it, I know an idea is forming in her head. “I could do you a favor and invite him over if that would help you out—but then you’d owe me.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure. You’d be helping me help you and helping my roommate grow a pair of lady balls and maybe hit on the guy once and for all.” The girl rests her elbows on the encasement, chin in her hand. “She leaves the house when he leaves every day, even when she doesn’t have classes, but she refuses to talk to him. It’s getting pathetic. Maybe if he’s in our actual living room and we give her a few shots of vodka, she’ll say hi.”

“That would be fucking awesome.”

“But then you owe me a favor,” she clarifies.

“Deal.”

She stands, fishing a phone out of her back pocket. The light illuminates her face, and I can finally see it clearly in the dark. “Give me his number and I’ll text him.”

I grab my cell, too. Pull up JB’s contact and tap for his number. “Ready?”

“Go.”

“555-1254. His name is JB.”

The girl chuckles. “Oh, I know what his name is. We know allll about this kid, down to his weight and shoe size.” Okay, that’s just weird. “Sybil has the entire 411 on him; memorized his bio on the wrestling website.” Pause. “She’s not a stalker or anything.”

“Hey, even if she was,” I joke, “I’d still be giving you his number right now.”

This gets me a laugh from Skylar, and…

“What’s your name?” I ask, walking toward her and offering my hand through her bathroom window. “Sorry we haven’t met. I’m Abe, and this is Skylar.”

“Rachel. Nice to finally meet you. We watch you a lot. Did you know we can see straight into your bedroom?”

No. I. Did. Not.

I knew I could see them, but it hadn’t occurred to me for one second that they could see me. Or that they would watch me.

“You can?”

Rachel laughs. “Ohhh yeah, we sure can. We surrre can.”

Translation: we can, and we do.

Next to me, Skylar lets out an, “Oh jeez.”

Rachel goes on. “You should probably think about getting drapes. We can’t see your bed—”

Thank God.

“—although Felicity has tried, but we can see pretty much everything else you do. Rebecca loves watching you do push-ups, and sometimes Fel will sit on the toilet to watch you sit at your desk. She totally digs your nerdy glasses. So yeah, none of us is complaining about the view.”

Christ, that’s a little creepy. Isn’t it? Am I wrong to be a bit skeeved out?

My mind reels, trying to remember what kind of other shit I do while I’m in my room alone besides sleep, eat, and jerk off—which I usually only ever do in bed…I think?

Shit. There was that one time I masturbated in the rocking chair, but that was during the day between classes and practice.

I think?

Fuck.

“We don’t mind the show.”

Skylar does not need to hear this so I steer her back toward my window, praying that when I shove her through it, she doesn’t fall onto my desk and break my laptop. Or make a shit ton of noise. “Okay, well, it was great chatting with you Rachel. Buh-bye now.”

“So good meeting you in person, Abe.” She spares Skylar a glance. “You too, new girlfriend. Don’t worry, we won’t watch you.”

Oh my god, I do not even believe her.

I have to get Skylar the hell out of here before this girl embarrasses me any further.

“Hey Abe? Love those red Valentine’s Day boxers,” Rachel teases. “Oh, come on! Don’t look so tense about it. Relax, I’m just giving you a hard time.”

But I do have red Valentine’s Day boxers—don’t ask me why my mom sent them last year for the holiday, along with a pack of red boxer briefs—and the fact that Rachel has seen them without me knowing it makes my watching their silhouettes through their sheer curtains child’s play.

Wait. Did they know I was watching them? They had to know.

Fuck my life.

“No worries, wipe that look off your face,” Rachel goes on, phone in hand, face lit up by its glowing screen. She’s tapping away. “I’ll shoot JB a text right now and make it convincing, and he’ll be out of your place in a few minutes. Guaranteed.”

I don’t know what she’s going to say to him; I can only imagine.

“Remind me to get blinds first thing in the morning,” I mutter to Skylar.

“Uh, in the morning? How about right now?” she quips, chagrined, foot already hovering above my cupped hands as I squat down, forming a step. “The stores are still open. We can run to Walmart.”