The Girl Nextdoor

I was never particularly interested in girls as a boy. It wasn't that I had anything against them, but I just didn't feel the same spark that my friends were experiencing. They'd often joke that there must be something wrong with me, but I would laugh it off, undisturbed by their childish beliefs. My lack of interest continued as I got admission into the university, where, despite my indifference, I somehow managed to attract a good number of attention from the girls. Many of them tried to get close to me, while some went as far as confessing their feelings outrightly. This only made things worse with my male friends, especially when their crushes turned their affections toward me instead. I became a target of their resentment, even though I was never interested in their girls. It sometimes got me worried. I focused on my studies, trying to ignore the drama that was swirling around me.

By the time I was in my final year, I got desperate for a change. I decided to move off-campus to a quieter environment,, hoping to escape the endless turmoil. I finally found a place on the outskirts of town, a more secluded neighborhood with mostly locals rather than students. It seemed like the perfect refuge I wanted.

I had just finished moving my things into the new apartment, when I heard a knock on the door. At first, I thought it was the landlady. But I found a young woman standing there, smiling when I opened the door. She introduced herself as Jane, my next-door neighbor. There was something immediately disarming about her. She was in her final year too, but in a different faculty. Jane offered to help me settle in, and I was quick to accept her assistance. We spent the afternoon arranging my things and cleaning everywhere, and by evening, my new place felt like a little bit like home. I couldn't imagine how I'd have faired if she hadn't come to help. Her kindness left a lasting impression on me, and I couldn't help but feel a warmth I hadn't experienced before.

Over the next few weeks, Jane and I grew closer than usual. We quickly became best of friends, spending a lot of time together and doing almost everything together. I started noticing her beauty in a way I hadn't before. She was kind, funny, and incredibly supportive – something every man would appreciate in a woman. However, she mentioned that she had a boyfriend and it only made me feel at ease around her. Howver, with time, she started giving me signals that made me question her feelings. I knew she was starting to fall in love with me. One fateful evening, while we were alone, she held my hands and looked at me with an intensity that made my heart race. I had never felt that way before. I lost control and kissed her. When she tried to take it further, I stopped her, admitting that I had no experience. She offered to guide me, but I pulled away, feeling guilty. She left my room that evening, looking disappointed, but hugged me tightly before going. I was relieved that I had stopped myself, especially since she had a boyfriend. I promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again.

Our friendship continued to wax stronger, so to say, and soon she was accompanying me to my department, sparking rumors that we were a couple. This increased the animosity from the other girls who had crushes on me. Despite this, some were determined to win me over, adding to the chaos I had hoped to leave behind.

One night, Jane knocked on my door. She looked distressed. She told me her window had been tampered with and that rats were getting into her room. I went over to check and saw the problem. I tried all I could but all to no avail. She suggested spending the night in my room, and I couldn't say no. I had a large bed and didn't see the need to tell her to bring hers over. We went back to my room, and she immediately made herself comfortable on my bed. My heart raced as I lay down beside her, trying to calm my thoughts. The event of the last time kept coming back. In the darkness, she called my name softly, "Tony, are you awake?" I could hear the tension in her voice, matching my own. She turned on her phone and showed me a tutorial on intimacy. The atmosphere grew even more tensed, as we kissed again. This time, we didn't stop. She guided me through the night, and we crossed a line I had vowed never to cross while still in school. It felt exhilarating, yet a part of me couldn't shake the guilt.

We started spending most nights together, growing closer with each passing day. It felt so natural, almost like we had been together forever. However, I couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that what we had going was wrong, especially since she was still in a relationship.

Then, one day, a knock came on my door. I opened it to find her boyfriend standing there. I recognized him immediately and knew I was in trouble. He was much larger in person than in the pictures Jane had shown me. Without a word, he punched me, and his friends followed him inside. They beat me up so badly that I couldn't go out for two weeks. When I finally got better and made my way out, people kept asking what had happened to my face. Jane's room was now empty, and I couldn't reach her. I feared what he might have done to her, but I didn't have the courage to go to her department and ask, knowing she and her boyfriend were in the same department.

Our paths finally crossed one fateful day after I had written my final paper. I saw her leaving the bank just as I was about to enter. Excitement enveloped me immediately. I was so happy to see her again.

"Jane!" I called out, my heart leaping after my legs at the sight of her. But she kept walking, pretending not to hear me. I wasn't sure if she was trying to protect me or if she just wanted to avoid me. I never saw her again.