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.“You bet,” he said, sounding happier than I thought he should.If I knew Devin Kidd at all, I’d say he sounded like he had a trick up his sleeve.But that was just it, I didn’t know him and I didn’t want to.I kept reminding myself that I didn’t want to as I made my way to the kitchen and opened the cabinet door under the sink.****Chapter 3I heard a solitary bang against my door.Then, a few seconds later, another one.I looked at all three of the clocks I had in my office and sighed.Devin’s constant reappearances during different times of the day were weighing on my nerves.If he was going to bother me, I’d at least prefer he do it at the same time each day, but I’m sure he knew that and was annoying me at random times to mix up my patterns.Another loud bang against the door.I considered ignoring him and going back to work.I didn’t have much left to do for the day; I’d spent a good amount of time that morning researching the most inexpensive flights directly to Venice.Gorgeous pictures of the canals and handsome gondoliers had put me in a slump, causing me to stare at my computer screen for hours and imagine a life where I could be one of those delighted travellers venturing down the cobblestone sidewalks with a smile on my face.A fourth loud bang dragged me out of my daydream.I left my chair and stopped momentarily at the bathroom to look at my hair.I had no idea why, since I didn’t really care what Devin thought of how I looked.Moments later, I was unlocking the locks on my door and opening it only to see Devin sitting in his doorway with a big grin on his face.His hair looked messed, like he’d just woken up, and his sleeveless shirt showed off his sculpted arms and T-shirt tan lines that circled his biceps.His shorts were old, ratty-looking denim things that looked like they’d lived a previous life as a washcloth.He also had a large bouncy ball in his hands.I didn’t understand how he could be doing the most pointless things and look so proud of himself, like he’d just run a marathon and finished in first place.“Yes?” I asked him, trying to look annoyed as I held the door open with one of my hands.“Have a seat, stay a while,” Devin replied, still smiling.I made a big deal of sighing and rolling my eyes before sitting on the ground and leaning on my doorframe.I knew that he wouldn’t leave me alone unless I entertained him at least for a few minutes.“Look what I have,” he said, holding the large bouncy ball up with one hand.It was clear rubber with swirls of dark and light blue through it, reminding me of the waves I’d seen pictures of just off the beaches of Jamaica.The tendrils of color looked lovely enough that if I didn’t know it was a bouncy ball, I’d believe it to be blown glass.“And?” I tried not to fidget or bite my nails.“So, if you don’t feel comfortable with me too close to you, I can use this to knock on your door without physically coming over there.Plus, we can use it kind of like a conch shell and take turns using it to talk.”“Why are you so intent on talking to me? Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”Devin laughed.“Well, I guess.But none of them are quite as charming as you.Or polite.”He rolled the bouncy ball over to me and sat there, staring at me with big eyes, waiting expectantly.“So, uh, what am I supposed to say?” I asked.“Tell me something about yourself.And make it good.”“You certainly are demanding,” I said.He just kept smiling at me.I glanced past him into his apartment.Mountains of cardboard boxes were lined against his walls with a few of them open and junk spewing out of the tops like a broken-down wood chipper.His apartment looked very similar to mine in layout, but that’s where the similarities ended.He had clothes thrown over furniture and a stand-up mirror, and junk laying everywhere on the Berber carpet floor.He had an old calendar up on the wall that had expired last year and a jar of spinach dip open on the counter with the lid off.I swallowed hard.Just seeing Devin’s apartment in such disarray was making my skin itch.I wanted to leave.I wanted to go back into my apartment to clean and clean and wash everything twice as badly as I normally did.But something in his crooked smile and the way his eyes crinkled when he watched me made me want to stay, just this one time.“Well,” I said swallowing hard, “I like cleanliness.I think like is an understatement.Things need to be clean for me to feel comfortable.Very clean.I clean my apartment at least once a day, sometimes three times a day.I go through more bleach than I go through food, and nothing ever feels clean enough for me.”“Do germs make you uncomfortable?” Devin asked.“No,” I replied.“Not really.It’s not that; it’s just the overall cleanliness.I’m not afraid of contamination or germs like some other people with OCD.I think it’s just a ritual I have that somehow is linked to cleaning.”“Have you always needed things clean? Even when you were a kid?”I thought about it for a moment, looking at a water-damaged spot on the ceiling in the hallway.“No, maybe when I was in middle school it started.Although, growing up, I remember our house being remarkably clean.My dad liked things that way.”“And does your dad still like things that way?” he asked.I rolled the bouncy ball over to him, and it hit him in the knee.“Your turn,” I said.He paused for a moment to look at me with an odd expression on his face, then picked up the ball and started bouncing it in front of him.“Well, I’m a swimming instructor for kids, usually around the ages of three to twelve.I love kids; I blame it on growing up the oldest in a very active, loving family [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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