Page 13 of Boyfriend From Hell

The next time I woke up, it felt like I had been hit by a bus, killed, revived… and hit by a bus again.

Everything hurt. Sounds hurt.

“I am never drinking again,” I groaned, rolling my stiff body over.

Why the hell was I on the couch? This was awful. My couch wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but it was definitely a sitting couch—not a sleeping couch.

I flung my hand out haphazardly and swiped it along the coffee table, praying my phone was somewhere on it and I wouldn’t have to move. Moving sounded terrible, I may honestly die if I had to move right now.

My fingers brushed the hard, beat-up plastic cover of my phone. Bingo! Thank God. I cracked one eye open—completely unprepared for the assault of sunlight—and peeked at the screen.

Aggressively bright white numbers punched me right in the cornea.

One twenty-three pm.

Fuck.

I swiped my thumb up, revealing several missed texts from Gracie––and even a few missed calls. My best friend and keeper.

I skim-read the most recent message, which had come in about thirty minutes ago.

“Uhm, are you alive? What happened to meeting up last night? Not cool, girl. If I don’t hear from you in the next hour I’m showing up and busting down your door!! Helloooo?!”

Begrudgingly, I sat up, full of regret from the night before, as memories from last night began to resurface.

I really had a stranger stay over, huh?

Insane of me.

Well, at least I didn’t get murdered—just the worst hangover of my life. Gracie was going to love this.

“Better just get this over with.” I sighed, swallowing back the urge to vomit, and palmed my phone. “Just rip it off like a bandage.”

The line rang for a few beats.

“D, are you okay?” Worry clung to Gracie’s words with heavy, exaggerated fists. “You didn’t answer my texts. Were you still asleep?”

“Uh, yeah-no, I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine—I have the hangover of a lifetime.

So physically, I feel like someone put my brain into a blender, but other than that, I’m fine.

I just woke up. So, if you could keep your screeches to a bare minimum that would be appreciated.

” I put her on speakerphone while I thumbed through the slew of texts, secretly hoping to see one from Felix.

“I was watching the meteor shower with Raios, then I went to bed—”

Shit, Raios. I scanned the living room, I woke up alone, on the couch, which was odd, considering I remember falling asleep in my own bed. I kind of remember getting up in the middle of the night to check on him, I think? I don’t know, everything is still a wine induced blur.

I glanced toward the door—locked. He must have left at some point, unless—I glanced toward the bathroom, which was open and clearly had no one in it. Bummer. Something about that disappointed me, part of me wanted to see him again this morning.

“Hmph,” I huffed.

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up! You watched the meteor shower with who?” she squawked, I could hear the sound of her keys jingling and Vince’s muffled voice in the background. I wonder if they stayed up all night, it was very likely their night was just now coming to an end.

“Yea.” I laughed nervously, “That’s the, uh, name of my neighbor. He’s uhm, nice? Kind of strange, but nice. He actually slept over… kind of.”

The hair on my arms stood on end again, a tingle crawling up the back of my neck. My skin turned hot and prickly, my stomach twisting into a tight knot.

For a second, I thought I might puke—but this wasn’t the aftermath of last night’s drinking. No, this was that slow, creeping feeling of being watched.

Gracie went silent on the other end, and I finally gave in to the urge to look over my shoulder.

That’s it, I’m never drinking again.

“Deer, be so damn for real right now, you seriously hung out with him? Did you guys do it?”

“This place has to be haunted, that or the side effects of a night drinking changes drastically as you get older.” I groaned and tried to shake the awful feeling.

“No, we didn’t do it, jeez, Gracie. He was locked out of his apartment and knocked on my door, what was I supposed to do? He needed to use my phone and—”

“And so, you let him sleep over, right.” She snickered.

“We didn’t!” I said quickly. “I was just being nice! I wasn’t going to make him sleep out in the hallway.”

A thud sounded from the hallway, causing me to yelp, my dehydrated brain throbbing.

“Deer? Are you good? What’s going on?”

I turned the volume down a notch on my phone and strained to listen to the hallway. Another loud thud, followed by muffled shouts.

“Do you want me to come over?” she asked, “We could get something greasy to eat, if you want?”

“No,” I sighed. “Somethings just going on in the hallway, it just caught me off guard.” I replied and begrudgingly hoisted myself off the couch to see if I could catch the drama from the peephole in my door.

No one was in the hallway, but a sudden loud slam came from the door directly across from mine, causing me to jump back.

“I think it’s coming from my neighbor’s apartment,” I whispered.

“Why are you whispering? It’s not like anyone can hear you in your apartment.” She laughed. “Is it coming from Mr. Hottie’s apartment?”

“I don’t know,” I hissed. “Maybe? It sounds like a fight or something, should I knock and see if he’s, okay?”

“He’s probably banging some chick.” Gracie snickered.

“Oh, shut up,” I hissed through clenched teeth. Whether or not he was banging some chick—which was none of my business and frankly, I had no reason to care—still opened a small wound next to the heartbreak Felix left behind. “Should I go knock?” I asked again.

I didn’t need to ask, I already knew I was going to walk my dehydrated, hungover self over there regardless of Gracie’s answer.

Before I knew it, I had my door open and was already making my way to his. I halted in the middle of the hall; I had no idea why I thought this was a good idea. He probably has a girlfriend and maybe they were arguing or something, or maybe they were banging. There was definitely shouting.

I sighed, my brain tight and throbbing as if my indecisiveness was amplifying the effects of my hangover. It’s not my business and it wasn’t like we were friends or anything. It would be weird of me, wouldn’t it?

“Uh, I wouldn’t?” She quipped, then yelled something to Vince.

Another thud echoed through the thin walls of the apartment building, this time sounding like something hard and large had been thrown or dropped.

My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out Gracie's words.

The only thing breaking through the haze was the urgent need to check on Raios.

The floorboards above groaned, as if someone was walking slowly.

The pit that had begun to form in my stomach swelled. What should I do?

I didn’t want to call the landlord and say anything, for fear they would just take it as a noise complaint or something and then I would be pegged as the noise police.

No thanks. That wasn’t the impression I wanted to give.

I already felt like I started off on the wrong foot with him last night and didn’t want to make it worse with a complaint.

Between the muffled shouts and sounds, it was hard to not wonder if everything was okay in there.

From the creak of the floorboards, someone above me was moving down their own hallway—I assumed.

Maybe they would call it in, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about it or be known as the bitchy, nosy, whining neighbor.

I moved slowly, my bones begging me to crawl back to my apartment.

Making it to his door—against my better judgment and with zero shame—I stretched onto my tiptoes and peered through the peep hole.

Creep of the year.

I held my breath as I pressed into the door, praying no one would walk out of their apartment to find me in full blown weirdo-mode. I was met with complete darkness, which, in hindsight made sense—after all someone looking in from the outside shouldn’t be able to see into someone’s home.

My calves burned, and I respected their cries, lowering my heels back to the floor.

“Stupid,” I muttered to myself.

“Did you go back to your apartment?”

“No,” I said quietly.

This was so strange, it didn’t make sense.

What was I even seeing? Obviously, nothing, which made sense to me. But something didn’t feel right.

I was fairly positive the fighting sounded like it was coming from his apartment, but then again...I was very hungover. Leave it to me to take the first attention a guy paid me after the breakup and turn it into a full-blown crisis.

He probably had a bad hangover too and was sleeping, someone else in the building must be fighting or something.

I should just call the landlord and let them know about the shouting. It wasn’t my place to play police officer or building manager.

“Ugh, okay. Shit—” It sounded like Gracie dropped her phone.

“Ugh, Deer, you should really go back to your apartment. You hardly know the guy. Who cares if he’s got whatever drama going on across the hall?” Gracie said, her voice distant and clearly bored. Static briefly overtook the receiver.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” I groaned. My stomach still felt tight with worry. For some reason I had a nagging feeling that something was wrong behind his door.

“I think I’m going to see if he’s okay.”

“Ugh, Deer—” Gracie began

“Oh, hush. I’m sure it’s nothing, I’m just going to check on him, then I’ll get ready, and you can come over. Okay?”

“Keep me on the line in case you walk into a shit show—I want to hear the drama. Oh! And let’s go to that new diner that opened up!” She paused. “Actually, FaceTime me! You know how much I love other people’s drama!”

“Shut up, I’m not going to FaceTime you!”

Gracie whined on the other line.

I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Since when did I care about someone—some complete stranger? Not that I didn’t care before, but I’d been so wrapped up in my own misery that I barely noticed anything around me. A one-night-sleepover-stand… was that even a thing?

Stepping back, I took a slow breath in and let it out, hoping to calm the annoying jumble of emotions swirling inside me.

Another crash reverberated through the building and I gasped; this time it was very obvious it had come from inside his apartment. Another thud rang out—this time, it sounded like something heavy had been thrown against the door. I didn’t wait. I turned and ran back to my apartment.

Out of breath, my brain feeling like it was caught between two crashing cymbals, I glanced around my kitchen.

Thankfully, the open concept made grabbing a knife swift and easy.

Better safe than sorry, I didn’t know what I was going to be confronted with but I’d be damned if I was caught empty handed.

I may be hungover beyond all belief (or naive) but who knows what’s going on over there? !

I clutched the handle of the blade so hard my fingernails bit into the flesh of my palm. With my wine fogged brain and best friends annoying comments for fuel, I made my way back over to his apartment.

I slid my feet along the dingy hallway carpet, silently begging them to not contract some kind of disease.

Nerves twisted in my stomach as the reality of how foolish this was sunk in—standing in the middle of the hallway in nothing but an over-sized T-shirt and—

I looked down.

A fucking butter knife.

Crazy neighbor of the year award goes to me!

“Deer?” Gracie chirped. For a moment I’d completely forgotten I was on the phone.

“I’m at his door!” I hissed.

“You’re insane! You’re actually doing this? I didn’t think you were actually serious!” She exclaimed, "Just call the landlord and complain, or the police. Either way, speed it up, because I’m getting hungry.”

Standing in front of the door, I slowly crouched down, pulling the phone away from my ear. I quickly slid away the call screen and opened my text thread with Gracie.

“Don’t hang up.” Send.

I pressed the buttons on the side of the phone, lowering the volume as much as possible, until Gracie’s frantic voice became nothing more than a faint whisper.

Laying the phone just outside the door, I exhaled slowly and rose to my feet.

I knocked on the door, silently praying it was just the hangover making me overthink everything.