The Boy Next Door

I could never understand why he was so close but so far from me.

My name is Sabrina and this is the boy next door…

Every summer, my family and I would travel to Paris and visit my grandfather who lived in Versailles. I never really knew why he lived here if all of his family lived in Sydney, Australia. Mom told me I shouldn’t ask him, so I never did. Instead, I just did what I always did every boring summer. Visit the tower a few times, meet up with Abri, and tutor a few students as a summer job. Paris is the city of love, however, for a 17-year-old girl it was the complete opposite. I couldn’t go out unless I was chaperoned by my crummy parents. But somehow, somewhere, in this godforsaken life of mine, this summer was different. When we arrived at my grandfather's house, we were welcomed by a couple. My grandfather then came downstairs and expressed that they would be staying with us over the summer due to losing their house to a fire that was started by their son Max. They described Max as a bratty teenage boy who never followed the rules. So tell me, why was I forced to live with this demon? I tried to express to my mother that I could go stay with my friend Abri because I didn’t want to have another horrific summer due to a boy I didn’t even know. Of course, she told me no, and tried to defend Max’s honor. I haven’t even seen him yet and he was still the talk of the hour. I decided now would be a good time to visit the tower. I gathered my things and went. It was still the same, time changed but nothing here did. Finally reaching the top, just taking the sight in. I didn’t want to leave but I had to make it back for dinner. I start to make my way down the stairs and I bump into someone and drop my things. I feel a hand over mine and I look up and see him. I see the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen in my life. It could’ve been just the moonlight stepping across his eyes but it couldn’t have been just that. There was something behind those eyes. He then asks me if I'm okay and I express my apologies. He then tells me that I shouldn’t be apologizing, that he was glad I bumped into him. We exchanged smiles, but I stopped and looked at my watch. I was late for dinner. I tell him I have to go and he tries to stop me but I rush downstairs and head back to the house. On the bus home, I was distraught. I would never see this boy again, I would never get the chance to know him. I was back to my boring summer. I finally get home open the door and sit at the table. They hadn’t even started dinner yet. We were waiting for Max to get home as well. He finally walks into the door and is yelled at by his mother for being late. I'm so happy I was excused for being late because he was too. As soon as I start to pick up my cup, Max walks into the dining room. I was shocked. It was him. It was the boy from the tower. How could someone act so gentle and seem so elegant and be the boy they call destructive? This couldn’t have been Max, he wasn’t what they described.

But he wasn’t just the boy from the tower, he was the boy literally next door.