Hate Thy Neighbor - S.M. Soto Page 0,4

figure out who’s under there or get any closer, the garage opens. The bike quickly revs in, and the door shuts, all within a few seconds.

Still with a frown pasted on my face, I glance around at all the houses in the cul-de-sac. Someone who owns a motorcycle was not what I was expecting when I moved in here. Not at all.

This should be interesting. Right?

“Gives You Hell”—The All-American Rejects

My first official day in the neighborhood, without my family, is spent baking. Much to my chagrin, my family stayed and helped me get settled here for a few days, before they had to head back home. Brandon had football practice, and apparently, his coach is a fat dick. My dad called him a chode, something the incomparable Dr. Ethan Hales doesn’t do often.

Of course, before they left, my parents had to know I was okay and made me promise to take care of myself. They obviously couldn’t tell me that, in their own words, because they discerned it’d somehow lead to the next world war. Oh, no. They used my brother for their dirty work instead. It was one thing for them to ask and question me about my health, but to sic my brother on me? That was a new low.

The first night sleeping alone in my new house felt…surreal. It was the first time I was truly on my own. I wasn’t sharing my space with roommates, or a boyfriend, or even a fiancé; I was officially on my own. It was the highest I’d felt in a long time. But with all highs came the lows, and the low in this case was my fear. Though small, my fear was still there, itching to be heard. I feared my ex’s words—I feared all his doubts were warranted.

Maybe I couldn’t do this.

Maybe I really wouldn’t be anything without him.

All that fear did was make me want to prove him wrong. Once I worked through the doubts, I embraced my new chapter with open arms and not one ounce of trepidation.

If I was truly going to prove everyone wrong, I needed to have faith in myself first.

When I roll out of bed the next morning, a fresh wave of excitement slams into me. I’m feeling refreshed and determined to enjoy the rest of my weekend, before I start my new job Monday. Back in Long Beach, I was a veterinary assistant for three years. It wasn’t easy to find an open position here in Campbell, so quickly, but I managed. Of about twenty clinics to choose from, I had my heart set on only a few, and I was fortunate enough that one of those clinics took a chance on me as a new hire.

My plan for today is to knock off as much as I can on my to-do list for the house. Even with all my furniture and most of my boxes unpacked, the house still looks barren and unorganized. I figure I’ll find some throw pillows and other odds and ends, before looking into paint colors and other necessities.

Last night, I saw a quick and easy recipe on Pinterest and decided I’d try it out after I went grocery shopping. I thought it would be an admirable introduction to the neighbors. I made two batches of chocolate Bundt cakes. One for the neighbor on the left, and the other for the neighbor on my right. I set the delicious smelling desserts on my good china that I had to dig through my boxes to find and wrap each with foil.

I decide to start with the house to the right of mine. Personally, I like to call them the contradictors. I still can’t, for the life of me, understand why they’d have a Hummer and a Prius. It certainly defeats the whole purpose, doesn’t it?

Despite that, Mona, the owner of said Prius, turns out to be a really sweet woman. She’s a mother of four, and I learn her husband owns the Hummer that isn’t in the driveway this morning. We chat for a while, and I can’t contain my burst of pride when she fawns over the cake I made.

From her house, I make the trek back to my place and grab the other cake from the counter, before I head to the neighbor’s house on the opposite side. Once again, there are no cars outside, but as I noticed yesterday, motorcycle guy keeps his vehicles in the garage.

A smile tips the corners of my lips,

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